I can't tell the difference between consciousness and unconsciousness. When I open my eyes all I see is haze. When I shut them, the haze doesn't cease. In one of my conscious or unconscious states I see Dad sitting beside me, wiping my forehead with a wet cloth that immediately heats with my flaring fever. The pounding headache had spread throughout my body and basically no where isn't aching. My limbs feel like they are being dipped in acid and set on fire. If I had the energy to move or scream I would have. Believe me. But I just lay there, drifting in an out of reality. At one point I had opened my eyes and saw a woman standing in front of me. Midnight black hair, pale skin and prominant cheekbones. And grey eyes. Eyes like the surface of a full moon.
Mom.
That was when I knew I was going crazy.
After what seems like a decade the burning in my limbs slowly dies down and I find the strenght to clench my fists. As I wait a while longer my vision comes back and the pounding in my head ceases. I manage to sit up and rake my hand across my face, which feels sticky and grimy. I groan and stiffly make my way over to the bathroom and run the tap, cupping the water in my hands I splash the water all over my face, shocking me back into full awareness. I look up to the mirror, bracing myself for the reflection. I always look like a trainwreck when I'm sick. But what I see isn't what I expect. Clear and smooth pale skin with sharp edged cheek bones that I have never had before. My face looks more sculpted, full of planes and angles that have never existed before. The only thing that hasn't changed is my eyes. As if to check that it's not an illusion I feel my face. Sharp. Then I notice something else. My arms. I look down in shock at the perfectly formed and athletic arms. Not the chopsticks that I'm used to. Then I realise something... I don't need my glasses. I grip the side of the sink and take heaving breaths.
Obviously I'm still asleep. That's the most obvious thing.
I hold a hand to my stomach. Which is now hard. I don't dare lift up my drenched with sweat t-shirt to see any change there. If I see anymore I'll pass out. I wipe my hands on my pant legs and take deep breaths. Regaining my composure I slowly make my way downstairs. Dad is in the kitchen, looking out through the window. By the look of his posture he's stressed and uptight. He rakes his hand through his curly brown hair. I knock on the doorframe, trying not to startle him.
"Jett..." he turns around and meets my gaze. By the look on his face I can tell he knows something. I gesture towards my new physique. He pulls a face.
“I was hoping you weren’t going to ask about that...”
“How could I not?! Yesterday I looked like a pimply rake, today I look like an underwear model,” I reply in a rush. He sighs and stands up straight, gesturing to a chair.
“Take a seat, Jett.”
“No! No seat taking! I need an explanation, Dad. And don’t sugar coat it,” I make my voice sound firmer than I feel.
“This will take a while...” he looks at me with hopeful brown eyes, hopeful that I’d drop the whole issue. No way. I cross my arms over my chest and stare him down.
He bites his lip and nods. “Very well. Jett, I left Maine because I couldn’t uphold the responsibility there...” he looks at me again. I keep my poker face on. “I... well we... were a part of this pack. Your mother too.”
“Like a cult?” I ask with a raised eyebrow. Dad shakes his head.
“No... A wolf pack.”
“Unique metaphor,” I say slowly.
“Not a metaphor... We’re wolves, Jett,” he looks at me to see if my expression gives anything away. I just want to keep him talking so I can see how much bullshit emits from his mouth.
“I was the leader of the pack until I abandoned it and took you with me. Jett, you’re the next in line. Your transformation has already began. On Saturday you turned sixteen and that’s the trigger age... Now that you’re half way through the change the pack will be able to tell and come for you.”
I let out a laugh, “I’ll tell you something for free, Dad, you are brilliant at thinking up stories under pressure.”
“How else do you explain your appearance, Jett? Your body needed to be prepared for the change.”
“I’m still convinced I’m asleep,” I storm upstairs to my room. No way is he going to give me that shit. I lie back on the bed and feel antsy. I need to do something. I rake a hand through my hair which reminds me that I need to take a shower. Making my way to the shower I strip out of the clothes, avoiding looking down at anything. I turn on the shower and immediately hop in. As I lather soap up and down my body I can’t avoid my abdomen and holy shit. I have planes of muscle. Muscle. Oh God. A normal person would be thrilled about this, but personally I’m quite freaked out.
What was Dad thinking about wolves? If he was a wolf wouldn’t he have to turn into one every full moon or something? Then again I sometimes hear Dad sneak out at insane hours... Get these thoughts out of you head, Jett! No way am I stooping to his level. . I finish up quickly and turn off the shower. I whack the shampoo bottle with my elbow and... it takes its time falling. What? I practically just grasp it out of mid air. Confused I put it back on the shelf and shake my head. I must be still under the weather. I get out and wrap a towel around my waist, plodding back to my room. The digital clock at my bedside tells me it has just gone seven thirty am. I could make it for school... I quickly blow dry my hair and get into my regular black jeans that seem more fitted and my ‘This is my Zombie killing t-shirt’ hugs my frame a bit too smugly if I’m to be honest. I ignore it though and run downstairs and out the door before Dad can object. I need to get out of the house... Away from him.
Soon enough the school pops into view and I feel as nervous as I would normally. I look at my arms again and suddenly grow confident. I could take them. Literally as soon as I walk in all eyes are on me. Some girls who laughed at me yesterday point and blush as I look their way.
Oh yeah. There are some perks to this. I go to my locker and flick in the combination.
"You new here?" a soft voice asks me. I look to see Calebs girlfriend, Violet, and resist a smirk.
"Nope, I'm in your class."
"Really? I would have noticed you..."
My eyes look beyond her where Caleb is storming over, furious that some other guy is talking to his girlfriend.
"You new here?" he asks, putting his arms protectively around her. Violet pulls a face. I give him a small smile.
"Not at all," I hold up my binder which has my name on it. Jett Storme.
Caleb pales.
Violet gawks.
I smirk. The bell chimes and I pull a face. "Nice talking to you guys," I walk away, head held high. I can feel their eyes on me so just for the fun of it I give them a little ass wiggle.
This is going to be fun.
By the end of the day I have six phone numbers, three ass spanks and one pervy hand snaked up my shirt. I was a little creeped out on second and last one if I'm to be honest. The football team didn't go near me, just looked. A lot. And that scared me even more. It's only a matter of time that they start up their antics again. Metallica is now blaring fro the garage but before I can make it pass a very sweaty and tired Dad walks out.
"You ran off this morning."
I look down at my battered shoes.
"That was dangerous."
"How so?" I ask, with a quisitive eyebrow.
"You could have finished the change," he tells me in a grave voice.
"Are you still trying to convince me of this lark? I've had enough." I try to move past him but his arm shoots out and grabs my shoulder, holding me in place.
"I'm going to show you tonight and so god help me if you don't believe me."
*
Thank you for reading the previous chapter and voting! That was the quickest 6 votes ever!
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Thank you so much for reading! Picture is of the lovely Jett.