Page 35 of Raised By Wolves

“Hi,” Waylon says, holding out his hand for me to shake. “Again.Do you remember me this time?”

Just play along, I think.Try to act like a normal teenager.

Whatever that is.

I cock my head to the side and look thoughtful. It’d be too much to take his hand. “I’m not sure,” I say, squinting at him. “You seem vaguely familiar.”

His grin’s brighter than electric light. “Well, I’m part of your criminal past. So I can understand why you’d want to forget,” he says. “I’m Waylon Eugene Meloy. Nice to meet you.Again.”

“I’m Kai,” I say. “Just Kai.”

“Trust me, I remember your name,” Waylon Eugene Meloy says. He scooches closer to me. “So, what’s on your mind? Are you still trying to figure out what it was you just ate? Cafeteria food is never fantastic, but today’s lunch was especially…mysterious.”

“‘Mysterious’ is a nice way to put it. I’ve had slugs that tasted better than that.”

“You’ve hadwhat?” Waylon says.

“Never mind,” I say quickly. It’s time to change the subject. And maybe it’s time to be honest, too. “I was thinking about a girl named Julissa,” I admit. “Do you know her?”

“Yeah, she’s in my math class.”

“Have you seen her at school lately?”

Waylon ponders this for a second. “No.”

“Her mother doesn’t know where she is. And she doesn’t seem to care, either.”

“I’m jealous,” Waylon says. “If onlymymom didn’t care.”

“I don’t know a lot about parents,” I admit, “but isn’t caring a main part of their job?”

Waylon looks intently at me. He seems like he’s going to say something.Asksomething. But then he gives his head a little shake and says, “Julissa. Right. You should talk to her friends. See if she’s been in touch with them. Look, they’re right over there.”

I turn to where he’s pointing. There’s a corner table of girls looking at something on a phone and giggling. They have shiny ponytails and painted lips and they’re clustered tightly together. Apack.

“Do I just go over there and ask them?”

“Yeah,” Waylon says. “Girls love being approached by people they don’t know.”

Girls are different than wolves then, I guess.

And so I walk over and I take a deep breath, and I ask them if they’ve seen Julissa lately. They don’t seem to hear me, so I ask it again.

One by one, they lift their heads. And they just stare. They don’t say a single word. They look at me like I’m a foreign species. An invader.

“Julissa?” I repeat. “Do you know where she is?”

My answer is just dead-eyed silence.

I walk back to Waylon. “That didn’t work,” I tell him.

He laughs. “Of course it didn’t!”

“Then why did you tell me to do it?” I cry.

He brushes his bangs away from his face. “Maybe I was getting back at you for not remembering me. Or maybe I thought you should learn something important about high school, which is that a lot of people in it are assholes.”

“The Hardys already taught me that, thanks,” I say.

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