5 | WHEN TO TELL HIM

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LEN

     When I got the text from Adyen that he was free on Saturday, I became excited. The first thing I did was call Georgiou and talk to him. If I was bringing Adyen over, the other wolves had to behave themselves—they did that on their own when a human entered the shop, but the complexes of Adyen's existence and not knowing what he was made him a special case I had to report.

     "When are you going to talk to him about werewolves?" Georgiou asked me through the phone after agreeing to give everyone at the joint a heads up for Saturday. I had looked out the window for a bit, not knowing what to say. I hadn't spoken face to face with Adyen since Wednesday, but we'd exchanged some texts, and he smiled at me from across the room today in our math lecture. 

     "When the time's right?" I said, not sure of myself. Georgiou sighed from the other end, and I heard music briefly before the sound of a door creaking close replaced it.

     "If you're waiting for the right time, you'll be stuck waiting forever," he said in the background noise of buttons being pressed. I guessed he was in the kitchen. I bit my lip, flipping through the notes I had in front of me. He was right, I didn't have anything to say back. Honon, a mid-ranking wolf from my pack back in Alberta had left for Toronto years ago. He had a human wife now, and they had a kid together, and the lady still didn't know.

     If we worked out and maybe started dating, I would tell Adyen with time. I didn't want to keep Adyen in the dark like that.

     "I'll find a way to tell him," I said, listening as Georgiou sighed in response. 

     "Make sure of it," he said before changing the conversation to the changes to the joint's menu. We spoke about other things after that—his wife and kid and the boat they'd bought for Kayaking. He also made mention of the troublesome new rogue pack that was skirting the lines of his territory. Most of Toronto downtown was claimed, and the only way to get a spot was to buy and run a joint, but this pack just hung around where they cool and broke into empty buildings at night. 

     "A bunch of hooligans. I don't think they'll stay together long," he expressed, still going on about the pack of older teens. Most of them were runaways that now lived on the street. I agreed with what Georgiou said. Packs with just young people fell apart quickly. Many of them went back home, and some of them just decided to move. 

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