Page 51 of Alpha Varsity

Part of me wanted to turn around and tell her to give me an A, or I’d tell the whole school we’re fucking, but I couldn’t. And the reason isn’t all based on honor.

It also seems to have something to do with this little painting of us.

The canvas does something to me. It produces a sense offullness in my chest. A yearning. Maybe that’s the effect of art.

I can’t believe Lotta’s parents told her there’s no place for art in a pack. What are we, heathens? We can’t appreciate beauty or art? We just run around and eat, fuck, and reproduce and stay in our tightly-knit pack full of assholes? I don’t get it.

But I never did understand this life we lead here. I’ve always chafed against authority, against what they want me to do, against everything Wolf Ridge stands for.

I study all the detail she worked into such a tiny canvas. The background is familiar. She didn’t make it up. She must’ve painted by memory.

I realize I know the meadow in the painting. It’s an incredible hollow up in the mountains. Surrounded in all directions by tree-lined mountainsides, it’s a gorgeous open field that fills with wildflowers in the spring. It’s the perfect place to pitch a tent and camp. Or to paint. If I remember right, it’s far–a solid hour and a half run on four legs. And the only road that goes to it is an old bumpy Jeep trail–not fit for a car. I could get there on my motorcycle, though.

Something about this homage to me, or to our wolves, makes me actually want to do the assignment. Despite the fact that I shut down all communication, I still have this desire to express myself to her. To show what I am.

And it’s not the person I pretend to be. I’m not just the hell-raiser who will probably turn out to be a criminal like his father. The man who stole from the pack. But I did steal this necklace from the beautiful girl up the road.

I am also the guy who kept it all these years, bitter over her betrayal yet still obsessed. Still hoping there was some explanation for why she hurt me the way she did. Why sheused what I told her in confidence against me and my family when she promised she wouldn’t.

My mom taps on my door and comes in. “Hey, honey.” There’s a frown between her brows. “I heard something today.”

I groan and sit up. This is the drawback of small towns and wolf packs. Moms hear things. Nothing is ever private.

I brace, instinctively knowing it’s going to be about Lotta.

She folds her arms over her chest. “I heard the fight you were in happened in Lotta James’ classroom. That she’s teaching art at the school now.”

Fuck. I rub my face. Guilt twists in my gut. My mom doesn’t know I’m the one who told Lotta about Dad stealing money from the pack, but she knows Lotta’s mom is on the council and was responsible for getting him banished.

I know my mom feels ashamed of Dad and avoids the council members or ducks her head in submission when she sees them. I fucking hate it.

“Yeah,” I admit.

“You didn’t even tell me you had her as a teacher, and now I find out she’s the reason you got suspended?”

Fuck.

“She’s…” My brain goes blank. I can’t trust myself to say anything about Lotta that won’t reveal too much. I settle for, “I got myself suspended. It was just in her class, Mom.”

She continues to consider me with concern. “You should be careful around her, Asher. You know her mom’s on the council. If she thinks for one second that you’re a danger to her daughter, you’ll be out of here.”

“I’m not a danger to her daughter,” I grumble. Guilt seeps from my pores.

“Well, I know that, but you just got suspended forbreaking a kid’s wrist in her class. That doesn’t look good, does it?”

“I know. I–” I sigh and stand. “I’ll be more careful, Mom.” I lean down to kiss her forehead. “I’m sorry, Mom.”

She gives me a hug and leaves, and I drop my head to the door. Dammit. This is a prime reason why I can never claim Lotta James.

It would break my poor mother’s heart.

Lotta

A text comes in from Andy between classes. He sent flowers to my house yesterday. I promptly brought them over to my mom’s house and opened the windows at my place to air out the smell. The last thing I need is for Asher’s wolf to get triggered thinking some other male is sniffing in his territory.

I also texted Andy last night to say,

I told you I’m seeing someone. If the gallery intro is hinging on us hooking up, then I don’t want your intro.

---