THE TALK
“Absolutely not,” Mom says, looking up at Jasper and me from where she and Dad are still sitting on their picnic rug.
“What do you mean?” I ask, face flushing with embarrassment.
“You’re not running to the other side of the country unsupervised.”
“Are you being serious right now?” I ask.
“Deadly,” Mom says.
I groan performatively, doing my best to communicate how freaking annoying they’re being. “Dad?”
“I’m with your mother on this,” he says, completely useless.
“Mr. and Mrs. Remus,” Jasper says, his voice a little shaky. “I promise we’ll be safe. I won’t let anything happen to—”
“You didn’t find him passed out in the woods a month ago,” Mom snaps back.
Seriously, why are they being so ridiculous?
“Is it really that big of a deal?” I ask. “You were more than happy for me to go camping without you around last summer.”
“At the Blue Moon Festival?” Mom asks. “There were hundreds of other wolves there.”
“So? It’s not like we haven’t been away before.”
“When you went running into a den of dangerous rogues?”
Aisha shifts uncomfortably in my periphery. Our little argument has put a dampener on the picnic party vibes. Katie and the others are all sitting quietly, pretending not to listen. I don’t get it. After everything I told my parents about needing some peace and rest, why are they blocking this?
“It won’t be like that,” I say. “Come on, this is what we talked about. It’s what I need—some time and space to, I dunno, clear my head?” I don’t know why it comes out like a question. But the upward slope of my intonation has Mom raising a brow, as if she’s just as uncertain.
“If it helps,” Jasper interjects once more, “I can have a couple of pack security guards positioned nearby. If anything does happen they’ll be there to intervene.”
Mom and Dad share a look. Has the promise of additional wolf-muscle convinced them?
“The thing is,” Dad starts unsteadily, as if he’s searching for the exact right phrasing, “we’re not just concerned about the danger of you two running off together, it’s…”
Is he? Is my dad blushing? Oh…oh no. Oh my freaking moon gods, no.
“It’s that going away with someone that you’re”—he clears his throat painfully—“that you’rewithis—is a big step.”
I run a hand over my steaming-hot face.
“And your mother and I are concerned about—uh—about…”
I can’t believe this. Are my parents trying to havethe talkwith me now, at my birthday party, in front of my boyfriend and all my friends?
Mom slaps a hand on Dad’s knee and takes over. “We just don’t want you rushing into any decisions before you’re ready.”
“Moon gods!” I say, clutching my face.
“And we also want to make sure that you’re prepared.”
This is not happening. This can’t be happening. Jasper is motionless at my side, most likely as devastated as I am.
“It’s important to know—what you’re doing and how to do it safely,” Mom continues. “And it’s not something we’ve spoken about before, so your father and I think it would be better if we all took a minute and talked about—”
