“We’ve worked our asses off to graduate. This is our time to let loose.”
“I know.” I nod.
“Besides, I already have your outfit picked out for tonight.” She wiggles her eyebrows. “Along with your escort for the evening.”
Pursing my lips, I give her the stink eye. “I thought we agreed, no more blind dates.”
“We did. But this isn’t a blind date.”
“What would you call it, then?” I press the lid on the tote shut. She’s hell-bent on pairing me up with someone. I never explained the heartless rejection that sent me on a path of singledom.
For four days straight, I cried my way through a cross-country road trip I was never supposed to take alone. The journey broke something inside me.
Healing required grit, keeping myself insanely busy, and a wall between me and those who could hurt me. Except for Kez, who snuck in under my radar.
My scars tend to be a good meter. Most shallow people look right past me unless it’s to whisper. I know there are far worse ways to be hurt than rejection over an appearance I have no control over.
A survivor’s wound is a badge. I won’t be shamed about it. At the end of my senior year, the students had grown used to the fire damage on my display.
“A good time with a sexy man who doesn’t want commitment. Ethan knows he’s there to be eye candy with rhythm.”
“Kez—”
“Please.” She presses her hands together and bats her ridiculously long lashes.
“Fine.”
“Yes!” She wraps her arms around me in an impromptu hug. “You won’t regret this. It’s going to be a night to remember.”
“More like not remember. If I have a hangover for graduation, I’m going to kill you.”
“You won’t, I promise.”
“Yeah.” I flash her a skeptical look. “I’ve heard that before.”
“But it’s always worth it, isn’t it?” She pulls away from me and holds me a little tighter. The sentimental behavior is a-typical.
“Of course. You act like we’re moving to different states, Kez.”
Her lower lip trembles. “I just know things are going to be different after tomorrow.”
“Not that different.” I return her hug. “Come on. Let’s finish packing up so you can doll me up
and force me to go to this party with too much booze, handsome men, and the last of our college frivolity.”
The vibes are weird as we load up my mid-sized forest green SUV. I wonder once more about Kez’s background.
A scholarship student raised in foster care; Kez has always shied away from details about her upbringing.
I never pushed, because it gave me a reason not to speak about my own. I run my fingers down the raised ridges on my arms.
My appearance speaks of my tragedy without me having to say a word. Most think it’s a miracle my face was spared from the blaze. I’d take a disfigurement over the ruin of my life.
Five hours later, I’m weaving my way through the crowded party with the broad-shouldered football player with wheat-colored hair that falls over his forehead into his bright blue eyes.
Chiseled-chinned with a dimple in his right cheek and a wavy southern accent, Livingston is most women’s dream date.
For me, he’s all wrong. His eyes are too light, and his blonde hair isn’t pale enough. Do not compare him to your ex.
I fake a smile as his scent sweetens with desire. The sugary lemon scent makes me want to gag.
I drain the rest of the jungle punch in my red solo cup and pitch it into a nearly overflowing garbage bin against the wall nearby.
“Dance?”
“Yeah.” He beams and I grab his hand and navigate the wall of bodies to the center where Kez is dancing like she’s lip-synching for her life on Ru Paul’s Drag Race.
“Ylva!” She reaches her hands out and pulls me toward her. Her eyes are glossy from imbibing, and there’s a desperation I don’t understand.
I match her frenzied movement as the bass rattles through the speakers set up in the frat living room. Closing my eyes, I lose myself to the intense rhythm, tolerating Livingston as he moves closer.
This is our last night as kids. Tomorrow, we receive a piece of paper that’ll declare us as actual adults.
My skin itches with the need to change and howl at the moon hanging high in the sky. That’s the way wolves celebrate, with a run.
I push the urge away and channel the energy into the undulation, winding my way down to the floor. Pushing my body, I burn off the excess energy that has my she-wolf clawing from the inside.
She wants freedom, but living among humans means denying my right to shift at will.
