Chapter 2Mature

Chapter 2




“And why do you just happen to have these knives?” Sarah, my other best friend, asks.

After doing more research over the night, I found that the most likely things to hurt werewolves is going to be either silver or Aconitum, also known as wolfsbane. I could only get my hands on the silver–silver knives, that is–so before we leave next weekend I want to make sure everyone who will take one, has one. Logan refuses to accept one, though I wish she would. At least Sarah and Parker believe me. Or, at least they value me enough to go along with it like they do.

“My dad had a collection of silver knives and some other things when he was alive and we just kept them. I found them in a box in his office.”

The one I gave to Parker is a long, silver dagger, with a small symbol at the bottom near the handle. I gave Sarah the same, except it’s a bit smaller. I question giving her one at all considering her expression, but I want her to have something to protect herself with. I’m not sure what the one I have is called, but it folds shut and has a sharp, curved blade that looks like it could be quite deadly if used correctly. I hand them both cases for their daggers so they have a place to store them.

“And your dad had a collection of silver knives because….?” Sarah asks.

“I don’t know. He just liked knives, I guess.” I shrug. “Why does your dad have a picture of himself posing with a goat in your living room?”

“Touche,” she relents, giving a small nod.

“What’s with the symbols on them?” Parker speaks up. The lighting in the room makes his hazel eyes appear green as he looks down at the knife. “I don’t think I’ve seen any like them before.” He points at the symbol I noticed earlier: a circle with several marks surrounding the outer edges and a small line inside of it as well. It reminds me of those random Chinese tattoos people get on their bodies, even though I’m quite sure that it’s not actually Chinese.

“I’m not sure,” I answer. “It’s on all of them back at my house. A brand symbol or something, I guess.”

“Huh,” Parker says. He slides the dagger into its brown leather case. “They’re strange.”

“Yeah. And please don’t just be waving these around like idiots; only pull them out if you have to. Like if something attacks you.”

"Yeah, yeah," Sarah says, waving me away. "We got this. Right, Parker?" She nudges him a bit too hard, causing the hand holding the knife to slice the skin between his thumb and forefinger. It leaves a tiny slit with blood oozing out. I close my eyes, sighing and wondering why I chose to put weapons into these two's hands.

"Seriously, guys? Already? Hold on, Parker," I say, stretching across the floor for my backpack. "I got a band-aid in my bag." I dig around in my backpack, searching for my miniature first-aid kit that I carry with me, which I find at the very bottom after a moment.

"Okay, that was a one-time thing," Sarah says, pointing a finger at me. I fight the urge to roll my eyes and hand Parker the bandage--a small butterfly one to keep the cut from gaping open.

"Thanks, Jules," Parker says as he takes the bandage from me. He gets to his feet, continuing to hold onto the cut with his other hand to keep blood from dripping onto the white carpet. He glares at Sarah.

"I'm gonna go wash my hands," he tells her, his voice laced with poison.

"Sorry, hun," she calls to him as he heads towards her door. Even though he’s faced the opposite direction, I can practically see him rolling his eyes at her now.

I finish cleaning off Parker's dagger with a tissue before sheathing it for him, as Sarah does with hers.

Thank God.

"Okay, what you said earlier true?" Sarah asks."That that person in the alley was...was a werewolf?" She pushes the frame of her glasses up on her nose when it droops down a bit.

"Yes. Or at least, I’m, like, ninety percent sure that they were. I know it sounds crazy, but I'm really not messing with you guys. Do you believe me? Logan didn't, but then again I don't really blame her. I'm not sure I would believe it either without seeing it."

Sarah lets out a breath, blowing her long black hair out of her face. "I mean, I feel kind of idiotic saying that I believe in werewolves, but...I believe you. And if you say you saw one, then you probably saw one. Although, I'm not gonna admit that to anyone else until I see one with my own eyes."

"Thanks," I say, a warm feeling flooding my chest at the sound of those words coming from Sarah.

“You bet. But I have another question. Do you know whether or not that person you saw is the only one? Couldn’t there be more?”

My mouth hangs open.

Fuck. Fuck, fuck, fuck. Why didn’t I think of that? I’m an idiot. A complete idiot. There could be tens, hundreds for all I know. My god, what is wrong with me? I’m putting them in much bigger danger than I realized.

“I guess so,” I manage to get out. “Hopefully not, would make sense if there were.”

“Yeah. Wolves travel in packs, right? What’s stopping werewolves from doing the same thing?”

I nod my head slowly, taking that in. “You’re right….Are you sure you still wanna go?”

Please change your mind, please change your mind.

“Of course I do.”


A moment of silence passes by before I ask Sarah to help me into my wheelchair. She rolls it over from her bed, leaving a short trail on the carpet. It takes work, but she manages to lift my upper body enough to get me in the chair, dragging my limp legs across the floor like a doll. Then, she helps get my legs adjusted so they're resting on the pedals and I thank her when she's done.

Parker comes waltzing back in, his right hand now freshly bandaged and a smile on his face. "I just thought of something funny. What do you get when you cross a snowman and a vampire?”

I doubt this is actually going to be funny.

"A vampire with pneumonia," Sarah says, so fast to answer that Parker barely gets the question out.

"An inbred," I guess immediately after. Parker shakes his head at both our answers.


"Ugh," Sarah groans, while I grab a pillow from the end of her bed and throw it at him. He deflects it with his arm while laughing.

"Get that out of here," I say.

"Do--" Sarah starts, but the sound of a duck call interrupts her. We make eye contact, squinting at each other in confusion before looking to Parker. He seems to realize that the sound is coming from him and pulls his phone out of his jeans’ pocket.

"Hello?" he answers.

Of course his fucking ringtone is a duck call.

Parker continues his conversation on the phone while Sarah lays face-down on her bed beside me, her body splayed out like a starfish.

"Uh-huh," Parker says, pausing between words while he listens to the other speaker. "Okay.....alright. I'll be there in a second....Yeah....Bye." He taps the screen, sliding his phone back into his pocket. "I gotta go. My mom needs me to watch Lizzy."

Lizzy, Parker's younger sister, is around nine years old. I'm guessing something came up with his mom so he has to go keep an eye on her. Though young, that girl has more sarcasm than all the angsty teenagers at my school. And I find her hilarious.

"Alright," I say. I almost wish I could go just to see his sister and hear some of the comments she’s probably going to make. "And hey, I already mentioned this to Sarah, but are you sure you want to go to the cabin next weekend? I don't know what's gonna happen and I might be putting you in danger by asking. So, if you don't want to go, that's fine."

"Oh, of course I’m going,” he says. “There's no way we're just gonna stay at home while all this stuff is happening. If anything happens anyway. We got yo back."

I smile, warmth and frustration flooding through me. It makes me happy that they’re so willing to go and risk their lives simply because I asked them to, but at the same time I wish they wouldn’t because they’re risking their lives.

Parker picks up his large gym bag from the floor and pulls the strap over his shoulder, getting ready to leave. “Anyway, I have to leave. See you guys later." He gives a small wave with the flick of his wrist.

"Au revoir," Sarah says, at the same time as I tell him goodbye. I watch his broad figure as he exits the room, shutting Sarah's white door behind him.

"You still staying at my house tonight?" Sarah asks me. She rolls off of her bed and walks over to her TV, getting the remote to turn it on.

"Yeah,” I answer, though my mind is more focused on the mistake I’ve made here. I shouldn’t have given them the knives, and I sure shouldn’t have brought them into what would’ve only been about Logan and me. The cabin could turn into a complete massacre for all I know, and I just dragged them into it.

What a fool I am.

The End

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