(C O M P L E T E D NOV 18)
Ruby is a young wolf with wild mood swings and short tempers. Her life revolves around her best friends and her struggle to survive her senior year of high school. Now there's a new man in town. Her hot, stern English su...
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Date Published: Early March
edited
C H A P T E R F I V E
"Kitty"
"Ruby, you're grounded," my mother told me, her arms crossed. I was chewing absentminded on my pancakes, pouring generous amounts of syrup on every few bites.
"You've already ground me, remember," I quipped back, taking another bite. My mother narrowed her eyes, her perfect eyebrows knitting together as she stared at me. I swallowed, looking at my father for help from the inevitable.
"You know honey, she's not wrong. I don't think she meant to come across so rude," my father tried weakly to defend me.
I sighed, putting my chin into the palm off my hand. My father was little help in the argument area.
My mother turned from me to my father, her anger changing persons. I put another fork of pancakes into my mouth, watching cautiously.
My mother had come to the conclusion that I needed to be grounded for the second time after thinking over the night. I didn't think I was that rude, but my mother thought otherwise, and it was her way or the highway.
For some ungodly reason my brother had pulled me out of bed early, and had practically forced me to get ready. This meant I had ample time to be yelled at, and eat my pancakes before heading off to school.
I stood, stepping away from the table as quietly as possible. My mother's eyes found mine as soon as I reached down to grab my bag. She paused her argument with my father for a moment.
"You come straight home tonight!" my mother said, before looking back at my father, who was trying to combat her arguments and failing miserably.
I waved goodbye as I left, but I knew they didn't see. Their arguing could be heard outside the house, only fading when I neared my car. With a huff, I unloaded my bag into the passenger seat, before getting in.
I let myself breathe, something I had almost been neglecting. It seemed like I was always holding my breath, afraid of what was going to happen next.
My attention was suddenly drawn away when I smelled vanilla. I hated that smell because it reminded me of something I couldn't have.
I lifted my eyes, looking for him in the distance. A road separated my house and his, and a white picket fence lining his lawn. He was on the sidewalk, leaning against his fence as he took deep breaths. His face was red and his body had a sheen of sweat.
I shook my head when he took off his shirt. He pulled it over his head and balled it in his hands.
My gaze drifted down his body, from his shoulders to his stomach. My chest ached as I looked at his v-line, only viewable because of his low shorts. I narrowed my gaze on his side when he moved, he pulled his phone from his pocket.
