Chapter Seventeen: Not a She-wolf in the closet

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*Cayton's POV*

There. I said it.

That was, quite possibly, one of the most nerve-wracking moments in my life. I guess it had to come out sooner than I had hoped, considering she thinks I'm some Mafia leader.

Now I just have to wait for her response. Slowly, I open my eyes and brace myself for whatever this girl is going to say. Honestly, I don't know what to expect. She's unpredictable.

So when I see her face is blank, I myself don't know how to react.

"Did you just say... werewolf?" she asks. I nod slowly, gauging her every move. "Ok..." Then she motions for me to come over. Alright then...

Slowly, I come stand at her side. She grabs my hand gently and pulls me down next to her.

"Cayton, how long have you been a werewolf?" she asks calmly.

"Uh... Since birth..." I say.

"And how many people know you're a werewolf?"

"Basically everyone I know... Are you ok?" I ask, examining her expression, which has gone from blank to oddly sympathetic.

"Ok, so you're a werewolf. Have you talked to anyone about this?" she asks, resting her hand on my shoulder. My eyebrows knit together in my state of confusion. She's taking this... strangely.

"What do you mean?"

"I mean, have you seen a... specialist about this?"

"A specialist?"

"Have you ever been in a padded room with a nice comfy jacket that makes you hug yourself?" she asks slowly. What the hell is she talking about?

"Wha..." It takes a second, but then it hits me. She thinks I'm crazy. "No Macy, listen. I'm being serious. I am a werewolf." She smiles sadly and pulls me into a hug.

"Ok Cayton. You're a werewolf. Am I a werewolf too?" Obviously, this isn't getting through to her.

"Macy, I'm not joking here. I'm not some crazy guy who thinks he's a werewolf. I am one. So is Tami, Hunter, Trenton, and Carter," I explain, in hopes that it's enough to convince her.

"Ok, I believe you," she says, raising her hands in a surrendering fashion. "I think I'm just going to go make some calls. If you'll excuse me..." She starts to get out of her spot but I hold up my hands to stop her.

"You don't believe me. Do you want proof?" If she really thinks I'm crazy, then the only way to convince her is to show her. This should be interesting.

"Sure Cayton, give me proof," she says.

*Macy's POV*

So, no longer is Cayton a Mafia leader in my mind, he's just some crazy person who thinks he's a werewolf. I don't think trying to convince him that he isn't a werewolf is the smartest idea, so I'm just going to go with it. At least until I can contact a psychiatrist or something.

"You don't believe me. Do you want proof?" Proof? This should be good. If he has a werewolf costume stored somewhere in this house...

"Sure Cayton, give me proof," I say. I wonder if everyone else knows that Cayton thinks he's some wolf-man. Maybe they're all crazy and I'm the only sane person. Maybe they don't know, and I just get the luck of being the one he confesses to.

He pulls his shirt over his head and tosses it to the side, then starts working on his belt buckle. My eyes widen and I hastily grab his hands.

"Uh, what are you doing?"

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