Time Mends - Page 3/67

It looked like it was time to have a little talk about boundaries.

I managed to miss the cue to stand up while I was pondering when exactly she hacked into my computer because suddenly I was the only senior still in my seat. I grabbed onto the despised walker and pulled. Nothing happened. Another tug. Still nothing. My arms were like spaghetti, all pale and floppy and weak. Tears of frustration threatened to spill out, humiliating me further. And then two sets of hands were easing me to my feet. Jase let go as soon I was upright, possibly due to the glare I shot his way, but John Davis kept one hand on my elbow as he moved around to my side. He moved the walker out of the way with his spare hand before wrapping the other arm around my waist.

“Just lean on me, Graduation Buddy,” he whispered with a goofy smile. “We’ll make it just fine.”

Again tears threatened, but this time out of gratitude and affection. For the first time, I realized I may never see John again. True, Timber is a small town, but it’s still big enough you could go your whole life without seeing everyone who lives here. And who knew if we would both end up back home after college? Maybe we would run into each other at Wal-Mart over the holidays, but maybe not. John may not have been my favorite person, but he was a friend, someone who had been a constant part of my Monday through Friday life for the past thirteen years. Still, I was shocked to realize I would miss him.

The entire class made its way to the stage in pairs. John supported most of my weight the entire trek and practically lifted me onto each step as my turn neared, but it was better than clomping around with the walker. I swore I would only think kind thoughts about him for at least the next month.

“Jase Stewart Donovan,” Principal Dexter’s voice bellowed from the speakers.

My brother’s presence on stage was met with more than a few wolf whistles and cat calls. He handled it with all the charm and irreverence one came to expect from the star basketball player with celebrity-like status in our small community. He stopped in the middle of the stage and gave a deep, theater-worthy bow before tossing a few winks and kisses to his adoring fans. The school superintendent - who was known affectionately as “Dad” in the Donovan household - sighed deeply, Senator Harper scowled, and Principal Dexter barely suppressed a smile.

Once they finally managed to shoo Jase off the stage, it was my turn.

“Harper Lee Donovan.”

I wasn’t expecting what happened next. My first step was met with a deafening roar that almost literally knocked me off my unsteady feet. I looked out at the crowd, startled.

They were all once again on their feet. Three thousand pairs of eyes glued me to the spot. Three thousand sets of hands slammed together. There was yelling and whistling and cheering. It was all too much. The room tilted. Out of the corner of my eye I saw my father rush towards me, but I knew he wouldn’t make it in time. The last thing I saw before collapsing was a pair of familiar grey eyes watching from the upper bleachers.

Chapter 2

“You weren’t gone long,” Alex said as I made my way up the lake’s shore. The sun was dipping behind the trees, sending streaks of light to dance across the top of the water.

“Are you getting bored with me?” I greeted him with a quick kiss. “I know I’m nowhere near as exciting as skipping rocks or making dandelion necklaces.”

A quick kiss wasn’t enough for Alex. His lips followed a familiar trail along my jawline, over my cheeks, and back to my lips. “Yep, you’re pretty dull to be around,” he breathed against my skin. “I would tell you to go away and never come back, but I would hate to hurt your feelings.”

He kissed me as if it had been years since we last saw each other, which was hardly the case. Since my rather dramatic collapse at graduation I was kept sedated a majority of the time. My infection was worse, causing my temperature to sky-rocket. On top of that, I developed a migraine of spectacular proportions. My bedroom was kept completely dark because even the dimmest of lights burned my eyes. I wore earplugs to dull the roar of the fan used to keep me cool. My family was even eating out every meal since the smell of food cooking caused me to vomit.

Life in the real world sucked. Here was better. Here nothing hurt, and Alex waited for me.

“I love you,” I said, pulling him even tighter against me.

“I love you, too.” I heard his breath, shallow and fast, and felt his heart pound in his chest.

As countless hours of doing some mildly illegal things online proved, I didn’t really know Alex Cole. I didn’t know where he was born or where he grew up. I didn’t know who his parents were or what he did before showing up at Lake County High at the beginning of our Senior year. Heck, I didn’t even know if his real name was Alex or Christopher. It bothered me. A lot. Not because I felt lied to or manipulated, but because I would never know. It’s why I clung to my sleeping hours, to these dreams. I may never know who Alex was before, but I knew who he was here with me.

He was mine.

We walked along the edge of the lake for a long time, although the scenery never changed. One minute we would be walking under the cliff where we had our one and only real date ever, and the next it would be looming just ahead of us. Soon the sky grew dark and the moon began to show its face.

“It’s a full moon tonight.” I was surprised I hadn’t already known. Last winter I discovered the existence of Shifters, boys who transformed into wolves or coyotes during the full moon. Alex was the first Shifter I knew about, but he wasn’t the only one. Through a bit of amateur sleuthing, I found out my step-brother Jase came from a family of Shifters. Since my boyfriend, brother, and Charlie, Jase’s cousin and one of my best friends, all Changed during the full moon, I made it a habit to keep up with the phases.

I turned to Alex, to ask if he would still be forced into his Change, and found the wolf instead.

I knelt down and buried my hands in his soft fur. “I really wish you would stop doing that. It’s not…” The thought was cut off by a violent convulsion slamming through my body.

“Scout!” Alex, once again a boy, caught me in his arms. “Scout, talk to me!”

“Hurts.” The word came out as a whimper.

“Scout, you have to wake up.”

I tried to answer, but the muscles in my throat jerked, making speech impossible.

“You have to wake up and get outside as fast as you can, okay? Get outside and away from the house. Go into the woods. And whatever you do, don’t let them see your fear. Ever. You have to be strong. Got it?”