The Pack

Late One Summer Night

It was just another summer night, well it was actually the last weekend of summer vacation, but that wasn't going to stop childhood friends Elliot, Paul, and Zoey from enjoying themselves. Growing up in small town in Northeast America was dull for the most part, anything "fun" was at least one to two hours away by car, but the teens of the small area known as Bishop's Town had other means to keep them occupied:  The main liquor store provided all they needed and the thick forest surrounding their area were their means of escape.

Tonight the three were heading towards a small party that a classmate was throwing. It would be their graduating class's last hurrah as Juniors before heading on to their path of Senior Year.

"I'm really glad Mr. Golden doesn't card anymore," Elliot says taking a swig from the glass bottle in his hand.

  The brown paper bag covers the label but Paul and Zoey know that Elliot doesn't drink anything but whiskey. 'Just keeping up with that good ol' stereotype,'  Elliot would say whenever Paul and Zoey would tell him that he was drunk. The raven-haired teen would register them with his sea green eyes. 

"Elliot you're only half Irish." Paul would comment as he runs his hand up and down his arm for the hundredth time.

"Very true Paul, or should I say "Great Spirit"?" Elliot asks as he batted his dark eyelashes at his much taller, more muscular friend.

Paul is part Iroquois, his father must have been a tall muscular man just like his son because the Iroquois part was from his mother and she was a petite thing.  But her native traits were stronger since Paul had smooth honey colored skin and thick, pitch-black hair which he let grow out and keep it in a bun.  Sometimes he'd let Zoey braid it while they were in class, he couldn't deny how therapeutic it felt when she did.

The said female companion was now following behind the two boys since her petite legs didn't move as fast as the other two.  They usually would wait every so often so she could catch up.

"Could you be any slower?" Elliot teases as he takes the girl's hand and lets her wrap it around his forearm as they walk together.

Zoey jabs Elliot on his side which causes Elliott to twist violently as Paul and Zoey let out a cruel laugh.

"Why must you laugh at my pain?!" Elliot exclaims, dramatically throwing his hand over his face.

"Watch where you're going, you dork." Zoey quips as she deters them from a fallen branch.

"Where are we going anyways?" Paul asks, scanning the woods as they go.

Zoey looks at her phone, "The text said the Old Mill at 7."

The Old Mill was one of the first established buildings in the town but once the factory was built, they closed it down and the building quickly became dilapidated.  Now it's nothing but a flat area of land, a place for the teens to hang out.

The trio finally reached the long path leading to the mill.

"Seriously hope we're not early." Elliot comments, taking another swig.

Zoey runs her hand through her hair.  Loose strands fall out and Elliot gently wipes them away from her face.  Since Zoey could remember, Elliot and Paul have always been in her life. 

~

Zoey moved to town when she was five and her happy-go-lucky attitude quickly made her a target of bullying.  For the first few months, she didn't have any friends and for a five-year old that was really rough.  Sure, her parents planned play dates but she was always treated like an outsider. One fateful day, two boys had stolen Zoey's plush bunny, one of which was an angry looking boy with short black hair, the other was a dark, brown haired boy with mischief in his green eyes, but that day they held nothing but curiosity.