Waindale

When I was young, I always wanted to climb the clothesline in Grandma’s backyard. She had a dryer and never used the thing. The lines strung across drooped and were worn down by the weather, and the two white poles stood like a playground. There was a flat part on top of the poles. I wanted to climb up and sit on top and stare out at the trees. So, one day, when grandma and my mom were busy inside, I went out and dragged a lawn chair to the pole and set it against it. I got up and reached to the horizontal bit. Managing to grasp it, I jumped and struggled to pull my body up. It was a balancing act, but I didn’t fall. When I actually did it, when I sat up there like a perched bird, I watched the trees as I hoped to.

The high branches swayed in the wind. The sound of the leaves reminded me of waves. If I wasn’t afraid of slipping off, I would have shut my eyes and imagined myself on the beach.

After a good while of watching the world, I saw something in the woods. Maybe a bear. Maybe a wolf. Maybe nothing at all. I saw something and it scared me. It caused me to rush down to safety, but moving so desperately took away the precision I climbed up with. I fell off the clothesline and landed hard on the rocky grass below. Bits of gravel burrowed in my skin. I screamed so loud that my mom and grandma came running out. They cleaned me up, but I couldn’t go in the water. The water felt strange against my scrapes.

Knocking sounds freeze my body.

“Wrenley. It’s me.”

I kick the covers off and run to the doors. Unlocking them as quickly as possible, I yank both open and am relieved to see him standing there unharmed. I look up at him with my red face and puffy eyes. I want to yell at him for leaving me here, for going outside into the unknown, but I don’t.

“I’m mad at you,” I breath out.

Adam says, “I know. I’m sorry.”

“Y-You can’t just do that.”

“It’s gone. It ran far north. Rogues don’t come around here. There hasn’t been one near Waindale in years. Most know that there’s a pack based here, so they stay away. But this one was right outside the house, too close to be oblivious.”

I stare at him, no longer scared of the rogue. The rogue was wiped from my mind right when I heard him knock. Upset, I drop my hands from the doors and saunter back into the room. “I don’t care about the rogue, Adam. You freaked me out and then left me only to go put yourself in danger.”

“I can handle myself,” he says, walking in. “You don’t understand how serious this situation is.”

“Serious enough to have me lock myself in a room? Serious enough to go out after it?”

“Yes. I didn’t want to scare you, but you needed to know that you weren’t safe. If there’s a rogue in the area, you aren’t safe. The town isn’t safe. I don’t know what their purpose is here. I don’t know why it came so close to the house.”

“Wasn’t it just being a rogue wolf? Wandering?”

Adam shakes his head. “It’s not very often that a rogue has good intentions. They can attack humans. They steal. They aren’t something we want to have around the town. They usually avoid large packs, so I don’t know why there was one so close. My family’s pack has been here for generations.”

I swallow and look up at him. “You said it ran off. So it’s gone, right?”

Suddenly, the doorbell rings and I jump. My eyes shoot to Adam, but he isn’t spooked. The pizza—right.

We go downstairs to get the food. He got me an entire pizza all for myself, but I can hardly take a bite. I sit and stare at it. My eyes might be on the pizza, but my mind is conjuring ideas of grandma or my mom being attacked by the rogue. They’re home alone. What if it wanders their way? What if it gets Vivianne or Imogen or Eli or Elara?

“What is it?”

I peer up at Adam. “I just—I can’t stop thinking about the rogue. What about my family?”

“Your family is south, the rogue went north. They’ll be fine. They’re inside and safe,” he assures me.

“What about other people?”

Adam sets down his pizza. “It ran toward the mountains. The town should be safe tonight. I’m going to make sure it’s gone tomorrow, but right now you shouldn’t worry about it so much.”

After dinner, I get ready for bed and text my mom goodnight. I get into bed as Adam finishes up in the bathroom. It still smells like the soap that I used earlier to make my bubble bath.

With my knees nearly to my chin, I text Vivianne about what happened. I’m sure she was expecting something juicier and less worrying, but I want to make sure she’s on the lookout. After we say goodnight, I set my phone on the bedside table. Adam turns off the bathroom light then the bedroom light. The lamp beside me warms the room like a fire, and I watch as he gets into bed beside me. It’s a large bed with plenty of room, but my heart still speeds up. This is different than last night. I’m not coaxing him to lay down with me; I’m not going to wake up alone. He’s staying here the entire night beside me, and I won’t hear him sneaking out the window, hopefully.

Adam takes somewhat of a deep breath.

I look at him and think back to what Imogen said at school. He may just be sitting there, but who knows where his mind is at. I wish I knew.

“I don’t know if I can fall asleep,” I say.

“You will.”

As I move down and rest my head on the pillow, I ask, “How do you know?”

Adam looks at me. “Because I’m here.”

“Well, what if I don’t want to go to bed?” Adam’s eyes close and he says nothing. I watch his chest rise and fall. “Can we talk for a bit?”

“What do you want to talk about?”

I wish I could lay against him, on his chest. It’s not every day that we’re so close, and the reality of it is making me want to push my luck further. He says all I feel is mutual, and if that’s true, he’s better at hiding his feelings than I am. I wish I didn’t have to act calm and collected when I’m not. “I don’t know,” I murmur. “M-Maybe we can talk about what’s going on here.”

I grab his attention again.

I elaborate the best I can without tossing the blanket over my head. “Sometimes I’m just a little confused. I mean, I know we’re mates and all. I know that you want me to live here with you—which is still a little insane—but I don’t understand us. I don’t get what we are. We’re sleeping in the same bed, yet we haven’t even...”

“Haven’t even what?” He asks, pushing me.

I look at him as he looks at me. I can’t say it. It’s too hard. It was easy that night in the forest when I was ready to lay all cards on the table, but I’m not in that state of mind. How did I speak those words with no worries? Kiss me. How was I so brave? I feel stupid now. I feel like a silly little girl.

Reaching to the lamp, I turn it off and the room flashes to blackness. Moonlight causes a glow around us, but it’s not until my eyes adjust that I can see him. “I’m tired,” I say bluntly. It’s true. I am tired. The constant contemplation on whether I should say something or not, do something or not, think something or not—it’s exhausting. Right now it’s easier to just turn off the light and my mind as well. I’m tired of the anxiety that comes when I try to speak my truth.

“Come on,” he says. “Tell me what’s going on.”

Moving on my side and facing away from him, I lay as close to the edge as possible. “Never mind it. Let’s just go to bed.”

“Wrenley?” I stay quiet and hear him sigh. “A lot has happened today, I know. It’s overwhelming. The last thing I want is for you to go quiet on me now.”

“I don’t want to, but you make it hard.”

I hear him move around, but I stay facing away. “Talk to me,” he says, his voice clearer, deeper.

“I don’t understand you. We’re supposed to be connected. Our bodies and souls are all tangled up together, and everyone keeps telling me how it’s supposed to be. Everyone says how mates act. We aren’t like that. I was fine taking it slow. I didn’t want everything to happen all at once, but at this point I’m just confused,” I spill, forcing myself with everything in my being because the words wouldn’t leave me otherwise. “Why won’t you kiss me? I look at you with my stupid little faces. I inch closer. I even practically begged, and now I’m just left feeling ridiculous.”

My hands grip the covers as hard as possible as I wait for him to say something.

“I don’t think it’s a good idea,” Adam says.

Air clogs up my throat. Ouch. No, really, it hurts. My insides feel like they’re collapsing in on each other. I close my eyes for a few seconds, then, without thinking, I tug the covers off me and step out of bed. I rush into the bathroom and shut the door as Adam says my name. The light blinds me when I hit the switch.

I feel like crying and screaming at the same time. I can’t help but handle this like a rejection. He’s hurt me. I’ve never felt this way before. I don’t think it’s a good idea. What’s wrong with me? What did I do? Is it something I said? Is it the way I look?

Peering into the mirror now, I lean toward my reflection and question what I see. He knocks on the door and my eyes shoot over. “Wrenley,” he says. “Open up.”

As if! My reflection and I both glare just thinking about him. Adam thinks he can embarrass me like that then nurse my bruised ego back to health—it makes me want to break something. Damn it! Why do I feel this way? It’s like all my dark emotions are morphing into one indescribable force inside of me. Turning to the window above the tub, I get an idea. I climb onto the edge of the bathtub and peer through the glass. There’s a roof below as I expected. Can I climb out and escape before tears burst from my eyes? It will be like climbing out Vivianne’s window. I’ve done this before.

Another knock rattles me. “I’m coming in.”

The door opens. Adam enters and sees me standing up on the tub. I hop down and walk past him before he can question me. I rather not explain even though I’m sure he got the picture.

“Won’t you just leave me alone?”

“So you can jump out a window?” He asks.

I turn around, wanting to take off his stupid shirt. “You really have to rub it in don’t you?”

My backpack is set by the door, so I grab it and take out my uniform piece by piece. My skirt comes first, so I pull it up under the shirt. Adam watches me, the bathroom light taking us out of the dark.

“What are you doing?”

“I’m leaving,” I say while determining how to change my top without exposing myself.

“You’re not leaving.”

The shirt drops from my grasp. “What? You need to humiliate me some more? Not a good idea? What does that even mean? You said all that I feel, you feel. Clearly that’s not true if you can’t even bring yourself to kiss me. I’m not some hideous monster you asshole. I’m not going to stand here and beg again like some charity case. You don’t want me like that—fine. But I’m not going to stay here and play house with you. I’ve been embarrassed enough lately. All I want is to go home, and I’m going to do just that.”

Adam grabs me and takes me back to the bed. My spare hand pries at his grip, but there’s no hope.

“You need to calm down,” he says as if he has control of the situation. “I’m not rejecting you. If you convince yourself that I am, you’re going to react like I am.”

He sits me down on the edge of the bed, his hands gripped on my shoulders. My brows furrow as I try to wiggle from his hold, but I can’t.

“Wrenley, look at me,” Adam orders. “This is not rejection. You’re overreacting. Please, try to calm down. You can’t work yourself up over this; it’s only going to get worse.”

“You’re hurting me,” I say softly, my voice high like I’m about to cry. “Let go of me, please. You’re hurting me by keeping me here.”

Conflict shows on his face.

​

“It hurts,” I tell him as if the rational part of me is trying to break through.

Adam’s hands let go of my shoulders but come to the sides of my flushed face. Suddenly he brings his lips down onto mine, the pent-up need pushing against me. I feel the encumbering fear of rejection fade as assurance floods in. The feeling of his lips against mine causes my hands to fall on his arms, my fingers squeezing as we intuitively move together. All the frustration that has been building up inside of me is lifted from my shoulders, bringing me to a new state of satisfaction.

Adam lowers to match my height as I sit on the bed. My eyes open when he kisses from my lips down to my neck. One of his hands moves to my lower back, holding me close to him while the other rests on my thigh. I look to the connection as it makes me nervous. He kisses my neck, moving to my collarbone.

Overwhelmed, I murmur, “Adam. Wait.”

The feelings igniting on my skin makes it hard to focus, but when his hand slides further up my leg, I say, ”Adam stop."

He pulls back from my skin and rests his head against my chest. A few seconds later, he swiftly stands up and brings his palms to the sides of his head as if he can’t believe what he’s done. I as I stay on the bed; my eyes fall to the ground.

“Damn it, Wrenley. I’m sorry.” He’s breathless. He gets on his knees in front of me and looks up at my rosy face. “This is what I wanted to avoid. I need control.”

Blood has filled my lips. I pout at him while digesting what had just happened.

“Please forgive me,” he says, his eyes filled with desperation.

A little out of breath myself, I tell him, “I’m fine.”

His hand cups my cheek. “I’m sorry.”

“It’s okay, really. I’m okay. Y-You just surprised me.”

Be careful what you wish for, Wrenley—I can’t tell myself that enough. This is what I wanted, right? I wanted to be close to him. I wanted to feel him kiss me. I wanted him to want me. But looking at him now, the heaviness of regret looms over me. It felt like nothing I had ever felt before, both physically and emotionally, and my immediate yearning for more is worrying.

I didn’t think I could grow more attached to Adam.

Standing up in front of him, I take my Academy skirt off and toss it onto my backpack. I get back onto the bed but this time I bring the blankets over me and rest my head on the pillow. Adam follows suit and turns off the bathroom light. When he gets settled beside me, I fearlessly move against him and cuddle up under his arm. My arm is strung across him and my hand is laid flat against his chest. Adam is stiff for a moment but soon relaxes. The arm that I am under wraps around me.

I don’t say another word and neither does he.

​