Waindale

This feels like the longest night in existence. All the lights in the house are out—my mother and grandmother had gone to bed a while ago—and I’m left to lay in the darkness of my bedroom. It’s quiet, so painfully quiet. It’s gotten too cold for the crickets and now the night is filled with unsettling, infrequent gusts of wind. I’d much rather hear the wet tapping of rain than this silence, but the one night I need noise is the one night of clear skies.

Tomorrow is my first day at the Academy. I have my uniform hanging on the back of my desk chair. Contrary to my mother’s beliefs, it fits near perfectly, which makes my mind wander to Adam. This situation that I’ve been thrown into is insane, completely unreal, but I still feel guilty for acting so cold towards him. He is clearly trying to make it work; I just can’t get my mind around the idea of it actually working. There’s no way this can end well for either of us.

I look up at my moon goddess necklace as it dangles from my bedpost. My arm reaches above my head and my fingers turn the wooden carving the right way. The charm makes my crowding thoughts disperse—like she’s shooing them off as the evil things tower over me.

Whenever I’m alone like this—so desperate to move and unwilling to sleep—is when I want him the most. He feels so far away and it’s unbearable. I close my eyes just to picture his face, to imagine him in my bedroom. His scent is nothing but a memory that I’m struggling to remember. Adam. Adam. Adam. I say his name over and over in my head until it loses meaning and sounds like nothing at all. Rolling onto my back, then side, then pushing myself to sit up, I run my hands through my hair and squeeze my head like a lemon I want to drain until it’s merely rind and pulp.

Letting out a groan of frustration, I slip from my covers and spring to the window. My palm lays flat against the glass, needing to feel warmth back but getting nothing except an empty chill.

“Come back,” I murmur against the glass, watching my breath fog it up. “Maybe you can hear me. Maybe you can’t. You did before when I was stuck. Well, I’m stuck again. Usually I get can myself down, but this time I need help.”

I’m losing it, aren’t I? Talking at a closed window as if my mumbling is going to be heard from wherever Adam is. Maybe if I run out into the cold, he’ll come. Maybe if I stand there and freeze he’ll—dam it, Wren. Stop it. You’re not like this. Turning my back to the night, I face my bedroom with utter annoyance. I don’t want to be here.

Grabbing my thickest jacket from the closet and stepping into my shoes with my warmest socks on, I head out the front door, looking back into the dark rooms, saying goodbye. I shut the door and walk slowly down the porch steps. No one would be out and about at such a time, but Waindale isn’t like other towns. For all I know, half the population is at the town center dancing naked under the full moon. Imagine that. I can. I can picture my bare body drenched in moonlight. Instead of regular townies, those surrounding me would be hungry beasts. My pale limbs flail like that of an injured animal. I’m dripping blood. The metallic stench clouds their senses. They’re ready to pounce; they’re ready to rip me apart.

As I walk down the dark, barren road, his scent comes out of nowhere. Am I going to get what I asked for? Is Adam going to come for me? Why would he—I’ve been indecisive, passionless, and just bitchy.

Hints of him litter the air and seem to grow stronger. I continue to walk towards my salvation like I have a right to. The wind is ruthless against my legs; the sheerness of my pajama pants is doing nothing to keep me warm. If I was being sensible, I would have stayed home, in my room, in my bed like a good girl.

My lips part and I dare to call out his name. The forest is dense as the road cuts through it, and suddenly I turn into the trees. My body knows where he is and my head is along for the ride. I step over monstrous roots and tangled brush, and I know that I should be feeling lost, but there’s this sense of safety deep within me. He does that. Adam makes me feel all sorts of things, and I’m still trying to accept it.

Leaves rustle, twigs crack, distance waves rush up and down, dirt collects on my shoes—the forest whispers for me to turn back. Stay safe in society, don’t venture into its secrets, things no one should ever know. Adam. Adam. Say his name again and again at it won’t make sense. Adam. Adam. Adam. I wish he would disappear. I wish he would let me go.

“Wrenley.”

My eyes trace the ground. “How did you find me?”

I ask such a stupid question, knowing that he didn’t find me. We found each other.

“It’s too cold. You need to go home,” he says, and I can’t help but look at him—not even a jacket.

“Aren’t you cold?” I ask. His handsome face isn’t red from the frigid wind like mine. Adam is perfectly fine out here.

“I don’t get cold easily,” he says.

I nod and hold myself. The silent lips of the woods give us the perfect opportunity to say things we wouldn’t want anyone else to hear. This sort of opportunity isn’t good for my insistent thoughts. I step closer to him, nearly feeling warmth radiate off of his body. I want to tell him to hold me, but I manage to keep that one in.

“What are you doing out here?” He asks, the concern in his voice feeding my insecurities.

“I don’t know. I just needed out get out of my room—out of the house. It was a little suffocating, I guess.”

Adam’s jaw clenches. “Wrenley, you have to go back.”

“I-I can’t. I can’t lay in my bed, sleepless for one more night. It’s driving me insane. I need to sleep, Adam. I just—this is wearing me down, physically. I’m unwell.”

Adam crosses his arms as if he’s holding himself back. There’s this instinct inside him. Maybe seeing me cold and exhausted is hurting him in some way. I know that if the roles were reversed, if he was struggling, it would hurt me.

“I don’t know how to help you,” he says.

Yes, you do! You do! Just do what you must, even if I can’t handle it.

I step closer again, impatient. “You’re warm. I can feel it,” I say quietly. Taking a leap, I reach up to his crossed arms and he undoes them, letting me touch his hand. I take his hand in both of mine and immediately feel the heat like he’s been holding them over a campfire. A breath escapes my lips and is visible in the air between us.

“You’ll get sick out here,” Adam warns me.

My head is too caught up in the sensation of his touch to care. If I don’t do something now, I may just burst into tears. It’s been building up inside of me, so much emotion, and if I don’t act on it, I’ll collapse in on myself. My grip on his hand tightens.

“Wrenley—”

“I know I go back and forth,” I interrupt, “but I don’t know what to do anymore. I don’t care. I don’t care if this ends terribly. I don’t care if I get hurt. Just tell me that you want me back, and I’ll believe you.”

Adams takes his hand from my grasp. My heart aches for longer than I would like before his hands are placed on my shoulders. He looks down at me, his face not giving away a thing. “You can’t be out here,” he says again like he’s trying to come up with a good excuse. “I’ll take you home.”

I bring my hands up and place them on top of his. “I don’t want to go home. I want to stay here with you.”

His eyes watch me intensely, but his expression tells me that I’m wearing him down.

“Don’t take me home, please,” I whisper. “I can’t stand it there. I can’t stand it anywhere if it’s away from you.”

Adam moves with me backward. My heart beats tirelessly in my chest as I suddenly feel a tree against my back. I look up to him and feel the rough bark against my skull, knotting my hair. His hand moves up to my cheek—seemingly against his will—and ignites my skin. I can’t help but lean against his palm as my eyes gaze longingly into his.

“Wrenley,” he says softly.

“Kiss me,” I breathe, my chest rising and falling. I watch with such euphoria as he leans closer. Everything inside of me yearns for him, and I can barely wait another second.

His hands hold my jaw and his fingers are splayed into my hair. His lips press against mine for one climactic moment before he’s pushing away. Upset, my eyes spring open only to find him far from me and lashing into a blood-curdling beast. The sight of the wolf’s canines and dagger-like claws sends me stumbling back. A cry leaps from my lungs and shoots to the tops of the trees. My heart hurdles forward, and I frantically step back, watching as its cursed yellow eyes stare hungrily. Quick breaths leave me as I turn and run toward the road. My hands grip at tree trunks to propel myself forward. The sounds of its deadly chase bring tears to my eyes; the wind dries them against my cheeks.

A protruding root brings me crashing to the forest floor. My ankle is caught up in it, and I fight for freedom, but the beast is too fast. Suddenly the ginormous thing is towering over me, stepping until it is nearly on top of me. Another cry escapes me, but there is no one to hear it.

The beast’s teeth shine under the moon and they just about reach the skin on my neck. My body shakes with anxiety. I find myself waiting for death to consume me.

The heartbreaking sound of my weeping causes the beast to halt. Its eyes study me, watching my body cower in terror. I bring myself to look at it. Suddenly it’s moving off of me, leaving me. With sweat beading at my forehead, I sit up in the dirt. My eyes follow it into the shadows. I wait there long after it has gone, too frightened to move.

What had just happened is too painful, too confusing for me to digest. I don’t understand. Why did he do that? Why would he scare me in such a sadistic way?

We were so close, and he just tore us apart.