She glances up ahead, biting her bottom lip between her teeth. “Um, what do you mean?”
“Well,” I start, making it a point to also shoot a quick look in his direction, “for starters, he hates me.”
She lets out a careful laugh. “He doesn't hate you. He just doesn't get it.”
“Doesn't get it?”
“I'd tell Drew Cross to get lost, too. I don't care if he's an alpha. He's an ass.”
“Drew is an ass,” I agree, smiling. “But why does it matter to Walker?”
She sighs. “He doesn't mean to be a jerk. He's just worried all the time. His family is pretty low ranking in our pack. He has three sisters and his dad died when he was young. His mom does her best, but she can't change their rank without taking another mate and she's still grieving his dad. He keeps trying to get them into a better position but everything backfires on him. He's just stressed. That's why he's here. He picks fights and causes problems.”
That's actually sad. I can't hate him now. I can't pity him, either. Not outwardly. And I can't just invite him to join my pack for a multitude of reasons. Still, I can't help myself. I wantto help him if I can. “What does he need? Other than a high-ranking mate. What would help?”
“Honestly? Financial support. He's been working since he was fourteen. He hasn't been able to do much else. The pack helps where it can, but you know how it is. His family has what it needs but not much else. If there was a way to cushion them a little, he would have room to figure out who he is so he can start building a future.”
“You seem to have given it some thought,” I say, offering a smile.
She blushes and looks anywhere but at me. “Some.”
“Does he know?”
“That I exist?” she laughs. “No.”
As shocking as it is to know that someone finds Walker desirable, I love a love story. “You should do something about that.”
“I will,” she says wistfully. “Eventually. When he's had an opportunity to catch his breath.”
I look up towards the front. “Well, don't wait too long.”
***
They have asked me to stop walking the halls at night. They don't want me out on the grounds, either. They say it's for my safety, but this is a protected and heavily monitored area. I should be perfectly safe to roam the grounds at will. I have to do something, though. I can't lay in my bed and stare at the ceiling every night until the sun comes up. It was hard enough to sleep at home, it's impossible here.
Books are out. I can't concentrate on the story and I end up reading the same paragraph twenty-five times until I give up on it. Music doesn't do much more than provide a soundtrackfor my unrelenting thoughts. Walking helps more than anything because I'm actuallydoingsomething, but Dr. Clemmons has put an end to that.
I'm so tired.
Tired enough to admit defeat.
An unexpected result of walking off with Parker's shirt after the last hunt is that it carries Drew's scent, and unfortunately, that helps. I hate that it helps, but it does. I don't wear it. That would be too demoralizing. I just put it next to my pillow. The scent is already fading and it will disappear completely soon, but it's here now and I'll use it until it's gone.
I keep it rolled up tightly in the bottom drawer of the small dresser. I could preserve the scent longer if I had a bag or something to keep it in but I refuse to ask for one. Just knowing that the thought of preserving his scent is in my head is humiliating enough. If he knew... no. IfParkerknew that the only real sleep I've gotten since I got here is because of his shirt? I can just imagine the smug face he'd make.
I wonder what effect my scent would have on them? Obviously Parker would be offended by it, but what about Drew? What about his wolf? A tiny part of me wants to wait until all of Drew's scent is worn off and then wear it to sleep in for just one night before I return it. Maybe more than a tiny part. Maybe it's the widest part of my mean streak.
Drew's scent clouds around me as soon as I open the drawer and gets stronger when I unroll the fabric. Parker's scent is there too, stronger than Drew's, but I can ignore it. What I can't do is admit that I don't hate it. That's asking too much. I allow myself one good sniff then I fold it into a loose rectangle and put it on the mattress next to my pillow.
Sleep takes me slowly. Sometimes it feels like it slams into me when I'm this tired, but tonight I sink into it like a warm pool and I dream. In my dreams, I'm running through a dense forestand I'm not alone. It isn't my pack or my friends or family. The scents and energy are wrong. I don't want to acknowledge who the other wolves are with me, not tonight. I just want to run with them. The landscape changes with each dream, but the run never ends and I wake up feeling better than I have in months.
I'm not going to think too hard about why. I'm not going to think about the other wolves in my dreams. I'm not going to think about any of it because I don't think I'm ready to accept what it means.
The next week moves at a snail's pace. I go to the classes. I meditate. I sit through counseling sessions. I put in the work I'm supposed to do, but it feels pointless. Everyone here has an individual treatment plan and mine doesn't allow for much shifting. My wolf is restless. Especially when I skip out on the weekly hunt. This week's hunt was a version of last week's, with a different combination of predators and prey. I had already decided not to participate, but when curiosity got the better of me and I opened the envelope on my bed I knew I made the right choice. No way am I ever going to wear one of those collars.
When I get back home, I'm going to have a very long discussion with my father about this place. I'll finish out the month, but Recovery isn't going to help me. The only thing that will help me is balance and that isn't something I can magically meditate or hike into existence.
I keep thinking about the shirt I'm hoarding in my room. The scent is gone now, all that's left is the impression of it. I was going to throw it away. Realistically, there's no reason for me to give it back. If Parker was worried about getting it back, he would have already come for it. If I give it back, they'll know I kept it. They'll know I kept it until the scent wore off. And if I give it back? Covered in my scent? I don't know. They could think it was spiteful. Drew could take it as teasing his wolf. He could also take it as a personal taunt from me, which it isn't.If anything, it's spiteful on my part. And curiosity. I'm actually horrified by how much I want to know what would happen.
