Sold to a Wolf Pack

STAWP | Chapter 34

As I try to decide, my gaze drifts towards Logan's lips several times. Then, his eyes latch onto mine and I find myself getting lost in them. We sit like that for what seems like an eternity, not saying anything. I briefly wonder where the school nurse is, but when Logan starts drawing lazy circles on my wrist, gently stroking me with his thumb, I forget the school even has a nurse. Logan's gaze focuses on my lips and I know he's going to kiss me.

I lean forward in my seat just a little, trying to get closer to him. One kiss won't hurt. I just want to feel his lips against mine again, soft and caressing or hard and demanding. I don't care which, as long as they're his. As Logan leans closer, my eyes drift shut, only to fly open again when there's a knock on the door. The school nurse!

I jump back and try pull my hand out of Logan's grasp. I don't want the pervy nurse to get the wrong idea! Logan doesn't leg to though, so I try to move back as far as the exam bed will let me.

The door swings open, but it isn't the nurse.

"Zara?" I ask in surprise. "What are you doing here?"

"I got worried," Zara looks from me to Logan. "You guys were gone a long time."

My cheeks flame as I think about wat we've been up to. Not only did we make out in the janitor's closet we were about to kiss right here in the nurse's office, surrounded by a giant poster of naked people, a bowl of condoms, and a bunch of pamphlets about sex. Oh Goddess.

Then I remember that my hand is still in Logan's and glance down in embarrassment. Zara follows my gaze and gives Logan a questioning look. They stare at each other for a while, as if having a silent conversation. Which they're not actually doing, because people—and wolves—can't read each other's minds! If they could, I would be able to do it too... and even if I couldn't, Dad would have told me other wolves could do it. There's no way I'm falling for this prank. How stupid do they think I am?

There was actually this video my teacher showed us in homeroom. It was about this experiment where a group of people were shown a piece of paper and asked which of the lines drawn on it was the longest. One was obviously longer, but all the people in the room were in on it—well, all except one—and they said the shortest line was actually longest. So then when they finally got to the one guy who didn't know what was going on, he also said the short line was longer... and seemed to really believe it, too. He actually convinced himself it was the longest because he thought there was no way so many people could be wrong.

Our homeroom teacher explained how a group of people can convince someone to believe in something that's obviously wrong; exactly what Logan and Zara are trying to do right now. Maybe they saw the same video and thought they'd give it a shot. That if they all act like they can read minds, I'll start to doubt myself. Maybe they even think they can get me to pretend I can do it too just so I don't seem the odd one out, and then they can laugh at how stupid I am. Well, it's not going to happen!

"You really can't hear us?" Zara asks, giving me a perfectly shocked look. I guess she really is that good of an actress.

"Look, you guys," I sigh, "I'm not stupid." If they think it's that easy to trick the Omega—the rogue girl who knows so little about pack life—they've got another thing coming.

"See, I told you she doesn't believe me," Logan tells Zara, even though they haven't exchanged a single word since she came into the room. I have to give them points for how dedicated they are to this lie.

"We're friends, Sof," Zara sits down on the exam bed next to me, "and roommates. I wouldn't make something like this up."

"You want me to believe you guys are psychic?" I ask. There is a better word for it, I think, but I can't remember what it is. Telekinesis? No, that's where you can move objects with your mind. Are they going to tell me they can do that too? Then what's next? Flying? Teleporting?

"Not psychic," Zara shakes her head. "We can communicate telepathically. Not just us, you too. At least you're supposed to."

"Well, I can't, and neither can you."

"We can. Logan just told me you guys were in the janitor's closet?" Zara phrases it as more of a question and shoots Logan a disapproving look.

"That doesn't prove anything," I argue, blushing at the fact that she knows—or at least suspects—what we were up to. Someone could have easily seen us sneak in there, or it could just be a really good guess. Maybe that's Logan's thing—making out with girls in the janitor's closet.

"We can prove it." Zara takes out her phone, opens an app that turns her phone into a yellow notepad, and hands it to me. "Just type something, but make sure Logan doesn't see it. Then show it to me and I'll tell him what it says over the link. If he can repeat it, then you'll believe us?"

"Fine." I sigh. I don't know what game they're playing, but this isn't going to work.

I stare down at the phone for a few seconds, not sure what to write, and finally settle on Rock, paper, scissors. Zara looks over my shoulder as I type, and I'm done, I wonder if I should have chosen something more difficult. I think about changing it, but I don't want Zara to think I'm trying too hard. There's no way Logan will guess what I wrote anyway, even if it is something obvious. I could have just as easily written one of our names, so he'd have no way of knowing what to guess.

I give Zara a questioning look, and a second later, Logan grins and makes his fingers into a first, then flattens his hand, palm down, and finishes off by making scissors with his index and middle fingers. "Rock, paper, scissors," he tells me.