Second period dragged. Ainsel spent every moment anticipating Zoë’s tardy arrival—and dreading Remy’s. But neither appeared. She watched the hand on the clock move, barely hearing anything the teacher had to say. It was hard to really be invested in Statistics when there was a shape changing monster with hypnotic blue eyes roaming the school.

As soon as the bell rang, Ainsel leapt to her feet and rushed into the hall. Zoë was loitering just beyond the door, holding her gear for the next class. She’d dressed in a hurry, without doing anything to her hair. It gave her a vulnerable look that instantly made Ainsel feel protective.

“Why are you out here?”

“I was going to be so late,” Zoë said, shrugging.

“Well, what do you have to tell me that couldn’t come over the phone? I’ve been going crazy.”

Zoë’s gaze lowered. “It’s weird.”

Impatiently Ainsel said, “I’m weird.”

“Let’s go to our next class. I… do you know anything about the wolves that you haven’t told me?”

Ainsel went cold. “What happened?”

Zoë gave her a curious look, her eyebrows drawn together. “I think we’re going to need more than a passing period. We only have one more class before lunch.”

Ainsel resisted the desire to reach out and yank Zoë’s hair. She settled for bumping her shoulder with her own. “If you don’t spill then, I’m going to get mad.”

“I will, but you have to tell me what you know first. I think it will make it easier?” Her voice was questioning, as if she wasn’t quite sure of what she was saying.

All through third period, Zoë doodled in her notebook instead of taking notes. She wasn’t usually much of a representational artist so Ainsel noticed, because this time Zoë was drawing horses. Stick figures, of course. She drew Ainsel and herself, too: Ainsel recognized the stick figure with the long hair as herself and the oval body and the spiky hair as Zoë’s slightly warped self-image. And wolves, barely distinguishable from the horse, all around the edges of the paper. Zoë was even more out of it than Ainsel had been in the previous period, too; Ainsel had to cover for her when the teacher called on her unexpectedly.

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Finally, lunchtime arrived. They went out to one of the outdoor tables, despite the heavy overcast that promised rain any minute. The courtyard was almost empty, save for Bradley with his laptop, and when he saw them, he closed up the machine and headed indoors.

Zoë sat down, fidgeting, her eyebrows drawn close. “So what about the wolves?”

Ainsel hesitated then put her forehead on her hands. “They’re not wolves.”

“The dogs, then.”

“They’re not dogs, either. I don’t know what they are. But that new guy? Remy? He’s one of them. So is that other guy I met yesterday.” She couldn’t meet Zoë’s gaze.

“How do you know?” Zoë asked slowly.

Ainsel had no idea how to explain. “Smell? Feel? Something like that. And Remy has the same eyes as the wolf monster. And he’s been saying things, too.” She waited for Zoë to laugh at her, tell her she was crazy.

Instead Zoë said, “Do you think Tyler’s one of them, too? A not-wolf?”

Chewing on her thumbnail, Ainsel said, “I never thought so. But he does seem to know Remy. I’ll have to take another look.”

Zoë was silent. When Ainsel glanced at her, she was staring down at the notebook she’d been doodling in, tapping her finger on the page. When she felt Ainsel’s gaze, she looked up. “Werewolves, huh? I guess that could explain some things.” She took a deep breath. “There’s a unicorn in the forest.”

Her finger was on the stick figure horse. It had a horn. Ainsel hadn’t noticed it before. As a rush of dizziness passed over here, the single line swam in and out of her vision. “Pardon?”

“A unicorn. Hey, no weirder than werewolves, right?”

Ainsel shot up, bruising her calves against the bench but barely noticing as the surge of panic grew stronger. “Just as weird. Maybe they’re drugging the water here or something.”

Zoë frowned. “I… do you really think that? Me seeing a unicorn makes you doubt your werewolves?”

Ainsel dragged her fingers through her hair. “I don’t know. Did you really see it? Not just sense it?”

“I don’t have magic senses like you do. I saw it. Him. He was what I photographed and forgot. I saw him again last night and this time I remembered.” Zoë’s voice was soft, dreamy. Then she snapped out of it. “He said he made me forget, actually. Which isn’t very nice.”

Ainsel felt like her heart was being squeezed. “Maybe you’re making all this up to tease me. That’s not nice, either. Maybe Tyler talked you into this. Making jokes about my memory.”

Zoë’s eyes widened. “Ainsel, how could you—? You know I wouldn’t do that. I believed you and your werewolves. I didn’t try to explain away the way you’ve talked about Remy. I don’t understand.”

“Neither do I,” Ainsel whispered. “I just feel… afraid. Why am I so afraid? I think… I think I have to see him myself. Do you think that would be possible?”

Zoë took Ainsel’s hand. Her own was warm and dry and comforting around Ainsel’s cold and clammy one. “I’ll make it possible. Today, as soon as school is out, we’ll go find him. You can see. And he can explain what’s going on to both of us.”