Thank you so much @unicornsarecool47 for the AWESOME cover!
You have Astrid Baros. The teen from Wisconsin, who has had it tough.
Then you have Kleo Scafidi. The kick-butt, black belt, that is on a mission.
I'm quiet. Don't have many friends, and am usually to myself. I'm 14 and my Nana has homeschooled me my whole life. We live in a ghost town, it's called Sascee, Wisconsin. I've lived in Wisconsin my whole life, with my grandma, or as I call her, Nana. I say it like, Naw Naw. It's Greek. My father is Greek, and my mother is Swiss. Or at least they were, before they both got killed in a car crash 12 years ago when I was 2. Some stupid guy was drunk driving, and they got hit from the side. Nana tells me that we used to be pretty wealthy. We even lived in New York City! But sadly, when they died, their will was not found, and the house was sold, along with everything in it. I remember glimpses of my parents, and I remember them saying kind, nice, loving words. My parents were probably the best people I've ever known, and probably the best people in the world, I mean, besides my nana. My pahpoo, (Yeah go ahead and laugh. Get it out of your system. PahPOO. That was halarious.) or grandpa, died of lung cancer 5 years ago, so it's just me and Nana now! My mom never had any siblings, and my dad's brother, Paki, was probably the saddest person at their funeral. Him and his wife, Cate, were devastated. But they live in Rome.
I curl my dark brown, wavy hair into a bun, and cover one of my bright blue eyes, to try to see myself in a different light. I look in the mirror and think about how come my mom was so beautiful, and I look like THIS. I sigh and pull on Nana's old Tampa Bay sweatshirt.
"Astrid! Breakfast!" Nana yells from down the hall. We have only one floor, and our house resembles a lot of a little slave cottage. It is made completely of concrete, inside and out. We have no carpeting, only concrete. We can't afford T.V, or heating, or even a microwave! All we have is an old radio. But me and Nana have lots to do. We will knit, or play cards, tell stories, and read books. And for clothes, we usually knit or go to Goodwill for winter, and sew or wear VERY old hand-me downs for everyday clothes.
"Astrid!" Nana croaks again. I quickly run down the hall, to the sitting room, where Nana is sitting in front of the fireplace, eating cereal.
Nana is a 73 year old woman with white, shoulder length, thin, curly hair, and little glasses. One thing I love most about Nana is her smile, and sence of humor.
I walk over to her and give her a kiss. "Morning Nana!" I say.
"Morning sweetheart." She says back. I walk a few feet over to our kitchen, and pick up my bowl of Captain Crunch. "The Captain was about to board the ship and leave!" Nana says. I laugh at her silly remark at my Captain Crunch.
Once I finish my cereal, I give Nana another kiss, and say, "Bye! I'm going to wolf park!"
"Where else?" Nana says. I smile at her, and walk out the door.
I love the bike ride to the wolf park. We live in a very foresty area. I love the smell of pine, and maple, mixed with a little dirt, from the roads. I love the cool air against my face, as I bike on the dusty dirt road.
I love wolves. I feel like that they are like me. Free, independent, but likes to have SOMEONE around, and most importantly, misunderstood.
The worker, Johnny, loves when I come around. Johnny is 21, and a college drop-out. He has dark blond hair, and is cute. But more in a little baby sort of way. The only reason that these wolves aren't getting sent somewhere, and splitting up, is him. And his, "Wolf park," is more like a reservation, except for wolves. They are all from zoos, and the zoos were going to get rid of them because they didn't exactly, "Get along," with the other wolves. He feeds them, washes them, and breeds them, all by himslef, with the help of me of course. There are 6 wolves, and he loves them all the same. Except I don't. I love one in perticular. His name is Rebel . But first, let me tell you about the other wolves.
