Now: October 25th

When Wyatt walked into the school he immediately knew it was going to be a horrible day. Jamie's name was being whispered in every hallway. Every classroom. Even the teachers were talking about him. Clearly the news had gotten out.

He tried to act normal, like it didn’t mean anything to him. He went to his classes and did his work. He talked to his friends when spoken to.

But really, Wyatt was not paying any attention.

Some of the rumors about Jamie were ridiculous. He heard one person say that Jamie wasn't even hurt, that this was an elaborate stunt to show teenagers the importance of helmet safety. Another person said that Jamie had actually been a functioning alcoholic since he was a freshman, and that he was actually off in rehab right now. Where did people come up with this stuff?

He was walking to the third period when he heard something that made his blood boil.

“I bet it wasn't even an accident, I bet he was being a fucking creep and stalking that doctor again. I would run him over too if he was chasing me, dude had it coming!”

Rick Morrison, the asshole from the football team. Rick picked on everyone, including Jamie. Wyatt had always held back before. Because both Jamie, and Wyatt’s family, didn’t want Wyatt getting into fights at school. But, well, Jamie wasn't here now.

Wyatt had Rick pinned against the closest locker before the bastard could blink.

“Kemp? What the hell?” Rick spluttered at him.

“Do not talk about things you know nothing about, Morrison.”

“Why do you care?” Rick sneered.

Wyatt snarled. Rick tried to push him off. They both ended up in the middle of the hallway. Wyatt could hear students starting to cheer them on as Rick shoved an elbow into his gut. Wyatt snarled, circling his arm around Rick’s neck and shoving him down. He wanted to pummel this piece of shit into the ground.

Wyatt could smell Rick’s panic as his knees started to give, but before Wyatt could shove him to the ground completely someone was grabbing onto the back of Wyatt’s shirt and pulling him away.

“Wyatt, calm down.” A familiar voice hissed in his ear.

“Justin?” Wyatt dropped the fight, letting Jamie's best friend drag him away from the fight and the cheering crowd. Justin didn’t let go of him until they were alone in an empty classroom, and even then he stood warily in front of the door.

“You good?” Justin asked.

Wyatt shook his head, took in a calming breath. He had been dangerously close to losing control. He could feel his claws itching at the surface of his fingers.

Once he was sure he wasn’t going to start sprouting fur in front of Justin, Wyatt opened his eyes and nodded.

“I'm sorry,” Wyatt cleared his throat, “uh, about Jamie. I heard what happened.”

Justin nodded, “yeah. Me too.”

They stood in awkward silence for a moment.

“Look, Wyatt, I know you and Jamie are friends, kind of. Like, you hung out a few times, right?”

Wyatt grunted. He wouldn’t define them as just friends either.

“Yeah, but you don't have to fight for his honor, or whatever. Jamie prefers to do that himself. And honestly, I would rather everyone get it out of their system before Jamie gets back to school.”

If, Wyatt didn’t say, if he came back.

“You're right,” he said instead, “Rick just pissed me off.”

“Happens to everyone, don't worry about it,” Justin turned to leave the room.

“Wait-”

Justin paused by the door, turning back around.

“Have you- have you seen him? How is he?”

Justin gave him a pained smile, “not great. But he'll pull through.”

He turned again, and Wyatt let him go. Justin wasn't the person he really wanted to talk to anyway. The person he needed right now was on the other side of town lying in a hospital bed.

–

At lunch his basketball buddies asked him if he was alright, so apparently he was acting more quiet than he had been before. Who knew that was possible? Wyatt shrugged them off, and they didn't push.

He watched as people approached Justin and asked about Jamie. So many people were saying how sorry they were, how Jamie was such a great guy and this was such a tragedy. Wyatt wanted to rip their mouths off of their faces.

Who the fuck did they think they were? Wyatt was pretty sure none of these people had ever spoken to Jamie in their entire lives. Wyatt nearly growled when one girl in particular actually cried asking Jamie's friends if he was going to wake up soon.

Wyatt couldn't take it, he didn't know how Justin managed to answer everyone’s questions, he couldn't even listen to them. Throwing his lunch out on the way out, Wyatt fled the building. He walked out and sat on the stairs leading up to the school. A few other students sat around, but Wyatt didn't care. These people weren't pretending to care about a person he loved.

He stayed out here until the bell, and then gathered himself up to get through the rest of the day.

He managed to make it to the end of the day without pushing any other students up against lockers.

Just barely.

This content has been unlawfully taken from Royal Road; report any instances of this story if found elsewhere.

–

Wyatt was so done by the time he got home from school. He was thankful that his dad worked until at least six on weekdays, and his mom was out with Brandon and Carol doing whatever their extracurricular of the day was... he thought it might be swimming. Alone for a few hours, Wyatt finally had some space to process. He dropped everything in his room and went down to the kitchen. All he wanted to do right now was eat junk food and play some video games.

Downstairs, he grabbed a box of pop-tarts and a soda. He wanted something that would remind him of Jamie. He had bought these pop-tarts for Jamie himself just last week. When he walked through the kitchen door to the living room he froze - Taylor was sitting on their couch. Lauren was sitting beside her, a textbook in her hands.

“Hi Wyatt!” Taylor said.

Wyatt grunted in response.

“Hey bro,” Lauren smiled warmly at him. Wyatt noticed books and papers lying across the coffee table in front of them. That meant they would be here for a while then.

So much for video games.

“Hey,” Wyatt tried to smile, but it felt like a grimace, “when did you get in?”

“About an hour ago,” Lauren said. “Taylor needed to bring her dad something and I figured I could miss a day of class to help.”

“I only drive a motorcycle, your sister was really sweet to offer to drive me.”

Wyatt didn't reply, he didn't really care. He unhinged himself from the doorway and made his way back toward the stairs.

“Is everything okay, Wyatt? You seem worried or something.” Taylor asked in her sickly sweet voice. Honestly, Wyatt didn’t know how anyone fell for her act. How his own sister fell for it half the time. The other half of the time she couldn't stand to look at her... girls' friendships were weird.

“I'm fine,” he managed to grit out.

“I'm here if you need to talk about anything.” She replied in the same voice. Taylor clearly wanted to say more, but Lauren started talking to her about whatever subject they had together.

Pop-tarts and soda in hand, Wyatt stomped his way up the stairs and slammed his door behind him. Lauren probably thought he was being a weird hormonal teenager, but he didn't care. He threw his snacks on his bed, and fell down beside them, burying his face into his pillow.

He wanted to scream, or howl, or maybe even sob. Something was lodged in his throat and he wanted it out! But he knew if he did any of those things Lauren would be able to hear him. And then she would ask what was wrong... and Wyatt, he couldn't explain it right now. He didn't want to talk about Jamie. He just wanted to have him here, in his room, sharing his gross, sugary pop-tarts with him. He was lying on his bed in his family home, his pack home, and he had never felt more alone in his life.

When he had calmed down enough that he knew he wouldn't scream if he opened his mouth, Wyatt turned to lie on his side. Grabbing the pop-tarts, Wyatt pulled one out to munch on.

He ate the whole box that way. Staring into space, thinking of Jamie, and feeling silent tears run down his face.

Then: February 4th

Wyatt usually loved Fridays, especially after a winning game. Teachers were more lenient on them, and his teammates were always more laid back. Today, however, he was a bit nervous. He had not been able to stop thinking about the strange boy he had met yesterday. Something in him compelled him to find the kid and make sure he was okay. Wyatt couldn’t shake the feeling off. So, he now found himself roaming the halls before the first period, discreetly searching for a particular long haired teenager in a hoodie, within a sea of lanky, hoodie-wearing teenagers.

Wyatt finally spotted him a few minutes before the bell. Jamie was jamming things into his locker. His hoodie was light-blue today. Walking towards him, Wyatt glanced around and was happy that Jamie appeared to be alone. Hopefully that would mean Wyatt would not be as awkward.

“Hey,” Wyatt decided to start with, like an idiot.

Jamie looked up, his eyes immediately becoming guarded when he realized Wyatt was talking to him, “hey.”

Wyatt waited quietly as Jamie finished stuffing his locker and slamming it shut. He did grimace, however, when he noticed pages sticking out around the edges. Wyatt's own locker was too organized for pages to stick out the sides.

“What's up?” Jamie asked, shouldering his bag.

Wyatt dragged his eyes away from the locker door, focusing on Jamie. “I just wanted to ask if you were okay, after last night.”

“I'm fine,” Jamie said with a shrug, and started walking down the hall. Wyatt followed, even though his first class was in the other direction.

“Are you sure?” Wyatt asked, “because-”

Jamie suddenly stopped and spun around. Wyatt almost fell over trying not to run into him.

“Look man, I appreciate the ride last night, I do, but I'm not a nut job, okay? And I don't really feel like being your charity case of the day. So thanks, but please just leave me alone.” He gave Wyatt a stern look with this speech, before turning and walking down the hall again.

Wyatt blinked after Jamie for a moment before angrily charging after him, “hey!” Jamie didn't slow or turn around.

Wyatt felt anger bubble inside him, “hey 'man', maybe I didn't just want to make sure you were okay? Maybe I wanted to find out why the hell you were staring at me so weirdly yesterday!”

Jamie suddenly stopped and spun again, and this time Wyatt did walk right into him. Jamie didn't seem to mind though, in fact he grabbed onto Wyatt's shirt and dragged him down the hall before Wyatt could get his footing.

Wyatt found himself being pushed into a broom closet. He watched as Jamie closed the door behind him. This chain of action gave Wyatt more questions, but before he could open his mouth Jamie held up his hands.

“Alright, calm down Mr. Scowly Face, you made a fair point. And relax, I'm not going to try to make out with you in here or anything.”

“What?”

“You know, high school closet, two horny teenagers..? Never mind.” Jamie sighed heavily. “I'm sorry I was watching you so closely yesterday it's just... okay I'm not sure how to word this without sounding like a dick. Do you remember what Taylor said yesterday, about me?”

Wyatt furrowed his eyebrows, thoroughly confused, but he thought back to yesterday anyway.

“Your friend died?” He guessed.

“Yes,” Jamie nodded approvingly, “how?”

“She kil-” Wyatt coughed awkwardly, “um, she committed suicide.”

“Yes! But, no!” Jamie practically shouted.

Wyatt's face scrunched up in further confusion.

“See, that's where everyone is wrong! Amber would never have killed herself, she was just supposed to stay one night in the hospital after a routine appendectomy. But then there were more and more complications, and she kept getting more tired. She stopped eating. And then, boom, they find her at the bottom of her bathtub. Who goes from a happy teenage girl to killing themselves within a span of a week? No one!”

“Well-” Wyatt wasn't sure what he was going to say, but Jamie cut him off with frantic, flailing arms.

“And they never did an autopsy, they just assumed she had drowned herself- like that's an easy thing to do? And no one heard her? Her parents were there every single day! Hell, I was there almost everyday! Someone would have noticed that she was suddenly suicidal!”

After Jamie stopped talking, the room - closet - fell into a thick silence. Wyatt shifted uncomfortably, not sure what to say. Jamie was now looking at the floor and stuffing his shaking hands into his pockets. This was clearly a sensitive topic and no one had ever accused Wyatt of being sensitive.

“What do you think killed her then?” Wyatt asked. Jamie jerked his head up in surprise. Wyatt wondered if anyone had bothered to ask him that before.

“I'm not sure,” Jamie murmured, shrugging his shoulders, “but I've been keeping tabs on the hospital. Another girl was found dead in her bed a month after Amber, they claimed it was heart failure even though she was twelve. Said it was a pre-existing condition that worsened with her pneumonia. And there's a little kid who fell into a coma last week even though he went in for a sprained ankle. That's three strange cases in about a month.”

“Okay, so, you're thinking what? That something is taking their energy?”

Jamie's eyes roam over his face, searching for something, “or their life source.”

Wyatt nodded, “like a shtriga. Or maybe a witch.”

Jamie's eyes lit up, “dude, what? Do you believe me?”

Wyatt froze, “um-”

“I knew, I knew it! Dude, yesterday when you were playing basketball you were moving way too fast to be human. Oh my God man, what are you?” Jamie asked with a huge grin on his face.

Wyatt tried not to react, but he could feel his eyes widening on their own. This was why Jamie had been staring at him... His mom was going to kill him.

“Vampire? Werewolf? Those are classics. Oh! Or are you just a mutant with enhanced features? Ha. Just a mutant. Holy crap, are you a dragon!?”

“What? Dragon? That's ridiculous.” Wyatt started inching toward the door.

“Alright, fine, but what about the other three?”

“Jamie, I think maybe you should talk to the school counselor. You're clearly grieving for a close friend. You aren't thinking rationally.” Wyatt said, feeling like a dick.

“Yeah right, says the guy who just suggested that a shtriga is haunting the hospital hallways. What is a shtriga anyway? How do you spell that?”

“Jamie, I can't-I can't-” Wyatt looked at Jamie pleadingly, begging him to just stop talking.

“Oh, shit, Wyatt- wait. I'm not going to tell anyone, man.”

“I'm sorry,” is all Wyatt could make himself say before his hand was finally on the doorknob and he pushed his way out of the closet.

“Damn it.” He heard Jamie whisper from the closet. But Wyatt was already down the hall, running from this strange, genius, boy.