Page 26 of Raised By Wolves

I don’t move. What about my brother? Every cell in my body screamsDon’t separate the pack. As if he can hear this silent cry, Holo steps closer to me. His bony elbow pokes my ribs.

“Do you know where your classroom is?” Ms. Tillman asks him.

Holo looks blankly down at his schedule. “No,” he says.

“I think you must be upstairs with Mr. Williams. He teaches the ninth graders.”

“He’s staying with me,” I say.

Ms. Tillman blinks at me in surprise. “Well, I don’t know if that—”

“You should definitely just agree, Ms. Tillman,” says a voice right behind me. “These two get pretty mad when they don’t get what they want. They’ll definitely growl, and I think they might actuallybite.”

The voice is low and amused. It’s also familiar.

I turn around, and Waylon Eugene Meloy’s brown-gold eyes lock on mine. He gives me a lazy smile. “Hello, Kai,” he says. “Remember me?”

My cheeks flare hot. My stomach wobbles. I want to turn and run away into the woods. I want to reach out and press my palm against his chest.

Instead I shake my head. “No,” I say. “Can’t say I do.”

Then I grab Holo’s sleeve and pull him toward two empty desks in the back of Ms. Tillman’s classroom.

“Liar!” Waylon calls after me.

Laughing.

CHAPTER 20

I DON’T GET school atall.

It’s not about being stupid. I’ve got an answer for any question the teachers throw at me. What I can’t understand is why you’d shove a bunch of teenagers into a room and expect them to sit quietly while some boring old guy drones on about a subject they don’t care about.

I’m not saying that kidsshouldn’tcare about chemistry or civics. I’m just saying that theydon’t. The kids at Kokanee Creek spend half the class playing games on their laptops and the other half looking at their phones. Except, every once in a while, they take a break to stare at me and Holo.

The new freaks.

Usually I stare right back.

Usually my brother growls.

Mrs. Simon, the principal, doesn’t appreciate the animal noises. She pulls us aside right after lunch and wags her finger in my brother’s face. “If you are to be a member of the Cougarcommunity,” she says, “and I do meanif, then there will be no more growling.”

“It’s a natural response to a threat,” I say.

“It is ananimal’sresponse, and you are not an animal.”

“Actually, last time I checked, we all are.”

Mrs. Simon smiles thinly at me. “You know what I mean.” Then she takes my brother by the elbow—“Let’s have you attendyourclasses this afternoon, dear,” she says—and steers him away down the hall. As Holo looks back at me, alarmed, Mrs. Simon calls over her shoulder, “Anyway, they are nothreatsto you here at Kokanee Creek High School!”

Really? Are you sure about that?

That’s my first thought when I get to PE class and see that Hardy monster leaning against the gym wall, glaring at me.

Apparently his name is Mac. Short for MacDougal, which is an even worse name than Eugene.

I turn my back to him. I want him to know that I’m not afraid.

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