Chapter 3: Wednesday

Lupe

I turned human in a hollow inside a boxwood hedge, deep in Kit Carson Park. A place, empty now, where kids made out and homeless slept—and a werewolf could hide. I rolled onto my side on the damp earth and shivered. It was cold, after yesterday’s storm, and I’d no idea where my clothes were. In the east, dawn was only a bare glow, but the moon had set behind the western mountains.

Dana landed in front of me, in the few feet of empty space. She knelt looking at me, antennae alert, moth wings slowly beating.

She wore this gauzy wraparound thing. It made her appear fully covered yet concealed nothing of her body underneath. No wonder she’d taken easily to being naked in school all day, if that was standard fairy dress. I swallowed, to trying to wet my dry throat.

“How are you?” she asked softly, and reached out to touch my shoulder.

I kept myself from flinching. Control, I told myself. Her hand was chill, but still warmer than my skin. “Okay,” I rasped. I pushed myself up to sitting, and despite myself started to shiver.

“You’re cold!” she said. Before I knew it, she’d unwrapped her gauze and swathed me in it like a blanket—it was surprisingly warm, for such a light cover, and smelled of her. Soft, like solid smoke. “Be right back,” she told me, and took off naked into the semi-dark.

I boggled after her, then shook my head. I knew she knew. My memories of when I’m in wolf form are like dreams—better remembered if I review them as soon as I wake up. She’d been with me, all through the night—flying where I ran. Once, or maybe it was twice, she’d landed between me and a bigger dog, breaking up a fight. Which had to be, for a fairy as small as her, the stupidest thing on Earth after getting between a bear and her cubs (I ought to know) but, um—it worked.

And then she’d scratched my ears. I’d liked that. I blushed, remembering how nice it felt.

Dana knew what I was—she understood that much. But not how dangerous I was as a werewolf. How little control I had.

Without warning, she landed lightly, holding water in her cupped hands. Not a drop spilled. She sank to one knee and offered it. I took her hands in mine and drank it all, down to her wet palms. It wasn’t much, but it refreshed me.

“Thanks,” I said, still holding her hands.

She nodded, still naked. Then she reached for her wrap. “Let me in—it’s cold out here.”

It hadn’t looked large enough for both of us, but it was. We sat facing each other, legs folded beneath us, the wrap around our shoulders. Her chill hands rested on my chest. It was warmer, with two of us inside.

She studied me for several moments in the dim light. I raised an eyebrow.

Dana crinkled her nose. “Did I know werewolves are real?”

I shrugged. “No more than I knew fairies were, before Monday.”

She opened her mouth, then closed it. “Fair enough.” Her hands were warm now, and moving lightly on my skin, on my chest hair. Somehow, I didn’t mind, not from her.

She cocked her head. “Every full moon?”

I nodded. Then added, “I can change any time, but I must when She’s full, and Her light is out. And it’s harder to stay human, this time of the month.”

She giggled. “You make it sound like PMS.”

I rolled my eyes. Girls.

She went on, “What about tonight?”

I closed my eyes and tested the pull inside me. It would still be strong when the Silver Mistress rose again—She was only just now completely full. I opened my eyes. “I’ll have to again.”

She nodded. “I’ll come with you.”

I blinked. “You don’t have to,” I said quickly. She really didn’t understand—even though she’d been with me all night.

“Of course I do,” she said tartly. She rose a little and tapped my nose. “Partner.” And then because our faces were so close, it felt natural that she kissed me.

Despite everything that happened yesterday, we hadn’t kissed. The Program isn’t about affection—it’s about sex. Her lips tasted like a forest garden at night and, very faintly, strawberry lip gloss. Memory echoed the richer scent gathered with a wolf’s subtle nose—overtones of much more. We opened our mouths to each other, to our warmth.

After several moments, Dana wrapped her arms around my neck. I tried hugging her to me, but her wings were in the way—my hands eventually found her hips, holding her, caressing her sides. Her body against mine was smooth and soft and wrapped with heat. I hadn’t planned this. But just this once, I didn’t mind letting go.

Mind? Ha. I lost my mind, not even thinking about my control.

When we finally broke, to catch our breaths, she didn’t pull away but gazed into my eyes, nose to nose. It was still too dark to see much, and we kissed again. And again. Her hand traced my back and hip, and I gasped at the track of fire.

She wrapped her hand around my erection and giggled. Against my lips, she whispered, “Is that a wolf you have in your pocket or are you just pleased to see me?”

I growled, and kissed her again. My hand, caressing her ass, found the crack and slipped inside—she hitched up to let me, but I felt little more than moist warmth. In front, under her tight curls, there was the slick heat, the source. She moaned as I brushed her clit, and she pulled my cock harder. Just as I was about to break our kiss to warn her I was close to coming, she pushed me down, onto my back—with her on top.

“I want you inside me,” she breathed. “Now.”

She guided me inside her, and she settled down half my length before we stopped. So sweet, so warm, so tight. With a little mewl, she rose up, and slid down—there was less resistance this time. Up again, then down, and suddenly she had me all the way in. We paused—it was incredible. I almost didn’t want to move.

“Oh my,” she breathed.

She moved and rose up. I had the fleeting thought we shouldn’t do this—that I shouldn’t. But I ignored it and let go.

And we had sex. After a few beats, we found the sweet rhythm. I thrust my hips up to meet her, and she ground against my pubes with each stroke. The ache that wanted her gathered in my groin and soon, all too soon, I was tingling and then coming. I thrust up harder, harder, and she bore down, as her moans started rising. She wasn’t coming yet, but soon. Even when I was done, I was hard enough to keep thrusting as she wanted, as she needed, though the sensation was almost too much, until she too rose up to a quick shriek and she stiffened and clamped around me.

She held there for a couple seconds, wings beating, then collapsed onto me. Her panting breath was hot on my ear and neck; her antennae lightly patted my hair.

As I lay beneath her easy weight—so light, to be able to fly—I caressed her ass, her shoulder, traced the muscles of her back, beneath her feather-soft moth wings. If this was what sex was, this feeling of closeness, no wonder people made such a fuss. And I’d thought Babs had blown my mind. Yeah, I know—getting close to anyone just isn’t like me. But right then, I simply didn’t care.

Just goes to show ya, man—you never have a clue.

Eventually, she shifted, and my shriveled cock slipped out of her. She made a disappointed sound, and I chuckled. We gathered the scattered wrap, blown about when she came, to keep us warm. Though her body on mine was almost warmth enough.

She raised her head to look at me. “Thank you,” she said softly.

Thank me? After a moment, I said, “I’m trying to think of a response that isn’t totally inadequate.”

“Yeah, well, so was ‘Thank you’,” she said. “Closer would be OMGTHXUTHXUTHXU!!!1! but that just doesn’t sound right out loud.”

Sound right?—heck, I wasn’t even sure how she’d said it. I was getting a feel for what Tatja called the Dana Experience. From Tatja, my brain jumped to Babs, and sex, and a panicked thought. Oh fuck, I though—this was what happens when I lose control.

Dana looked at me again. “What?”

I swallowed, then whispered, “Um—protection?”

“Doesn’t matter,” she said, resting her head on my shoulder again. “I can’t get pregnant, with a human, unless I want to.”

Was that a fairy thing? “Really?”

“Realio and trulio,” she said. “I know what I’m doing.”

I took a deep breath. Not that I’m human. Nor that she really knew what that meant, for all she’d followed me. “I’m sorry I ... well, for keeping you out all night.”

Dana snickered. “Hello—moth fairy.”

I craned my head to look at her better—I could make out the gold of her hair and antennae, the pale green of her wings. “You always fly through the night?”

“Well, usually I get a couple hours sleep.”

“How—” I blurted before I could stop myself.

“What?”

“Well, how do you function in school, with that little sleep?”

“Earth may have problems, but vente mochaccinos make up for many of them.”

I chuckled, then had to laugh.

“What about you? You never stopped except to eat.”

I remembered nosing through trash cans—one time finding a tasty pork chop. “I, ah, don’t need to sleep, after. I’m tired, but like after a long run. Right now it’s like, oh, after a night’s sleep with restless dreams.” The restless dreams of running as a wolf.

Dana stretched against me, trapping my cock against her thigh. It twitched. “So you’re saying you have energy?” She teased.

“As much as you,” I said with a straight face.

We looked into each other’s eyes for a couple seconds, before losing it at the same time, giggling with the sheer giddiness of our bodies.

It felt good enough, letting go like that, it didn’t matter I’d lost control with her. This was a protected place. As we lay together, talking a little of this and that, we lazily explored each other’s body. The ripple of her muscle as she flexed wings, the curve of my shoulder as I kissed her nose. When her hand caressed my chest, I twitched.

“Ah, like a dog,” she said, “don’t rub the wrong way.” And she smoothed my chest hair. It felt nice.

“Woof,” I said.

She raised herself on her elbow, forearm resting across my chest. “That wasn’t much of a bark.” It was light enough, I could see her amused expression.

“When I make a real bark, you’ll know,” I told her.

“What about a real bite?”

“You mean like this?” and bent up to nibble her neck.

She gasped and moved against me. I made a note to remember that spot. If I ever let myself do this again.

Dana

I wanted to cuddle with Lupe forever. To lie in his arms, caressing and kissing, safe. I could totally stay with him for hours. There was just one problem. Well, two. The second was, we were in a public park and soon it’d be light enough we’d be found. The first, though, was even more important.

Breakfast, my stomach whispered. I’d flown all night, with little rest. I needed food. If I didn’t get it, my stomach would get louder.

But I didn’t want to move. I didn’t even want to sit up—I wanted to spread myself over my boy, touching as much of his skin as possible, every square inch if I could.

Not that I minded when he started kissing the hollow of my collar, the bend of my throat. My blood buzzed. And when his lips worked down, mouthing my nipple, I moaned. It was like he’d found a direct line between it and my groin. When he lightly nipped it, I moaned again.

This time, our making out was slower—less lust-driven and more passion-driven. We explored more of our bodies, each other’s and together. I wanted to learn all of him, his feel and scent and taste of nighttime wilderness, but it was neither the time nor the place, not as cold as it was.

“Like this?” he murmured, and I answered with a gasp. “How about this?” I asked, and he whined.

And when he pulled me back on top of him, he slipped inside me easily. I was a little sore, my second time, but we took it slowly, rocking back and forth, slowly building the fires. After an exquisite time, I came close to burning up, then burst into flames under my skin—I bit my lip to keep from screaming. I almost drew blood, but I think I was almost quiet.

My boy hadn’t come yet, so I rocked harder, matching his increasing pace—until he thrust up harder and sharper and I felt his warmth flow inside me again.

I looked down at him, arms braced on his shoulders, watching my boy’s face relax. He smiled and opened his eyes. They were so dark now, almost black.

Breakfast! my stomach shouted in gurgles loud enough for Lupe to hear. He snickered.

I sat up, still keeping him inside me, and swatted his shoulder. “You’re hungry too.”

“Like the wolf.”

I glared at him. “None of those jokes, thank you very much. It’s bad enough fairy has another meaning.”

“Marica.”

The bad Spanish word for a homosexual. “Exactly.” My stomach complained again.

We stood up, and hugged for a moment. He shivered, still naked, as I shook off my girdle and wrapped it round me. It tasted and smelled of him, enough I wondered if I could bear to wash it.

“I don’t suppose you remember where I left my sweats?” he asked.

I thought for a moment. Actually, I did—not far from where I’d entered the park. Maybe a hundred yards from where we were. I led him there, flying as he jogged. We found the sweatpants and sneakers under a thicket, but not the sweatshirt, not along the path he’d been running.

“Probably picked up by a homeless guy,” he said.

He didn’t seem to mind, and certainly someone homeless needed it—but so did Lupe. “But you’re cold!” I told him.

He shrugged. “It was my brother’s, anyway.” As if that made him less cold—and as if it meant he didn’t need all the more to replace it. Lupe can be a very odd boy. I wondered whether that was a werewolf thing.

But before I could ask about it, my stomach growled again.

“I second that emotion,” he said with a wry smile.

I caught his hands. “See ya at school?”

“Sure,” he said. “Partner.”

“You better believe it,” I told him sternly. Like I was going to let him walk away from me! I popped on tip-toe to give him a quick goodbye peck. Well, it was supposed to be quick—I liked kissing Lupe.

A dog barked on the jogging path, and we broke apart. I almost said something, but it would have been, well, redundant—we didn’t need to speak. We knew. So I blew a kiss at him and took off.

I circled above the trees as my boy ran with long, easy strides—so like a wolf’s lope, I now saw. When he crossed the street, at the park’s edge, I turned for home—too many people out in his neighborhood, too likely to see me. Also, that pesky sun was about to come up—I knew how disorienting that would be.

It peeped over the horizon just as I landed on the back patio. Jim was in the kitchen, already cooking breakfast. He looked at me, then glanced outside. “You’re home late.”

I didn’t blush—I was too happy to be embarrassed. And it wasn’t like I was ashamed of losing my virginity. But like I wasn’t exactly going to brag about it to my stepfather, even if I wanted to tell the world. “Busy night, after the storm,” I said as brightly as I could. Which actually was true, even if I had ditched doing it. Which kinda nagged at me, but then Jim said,

“You get any sleep?” He looked concerned.

“I’ll be okay,” I told him, grabbing a hot biscuit—I had to juggle it in my fingers. Though I’d probably need a quadruple-shot mochaccino. I started to sit down, then noticed smears of dried blood and semen between my thighs—fortunately hidden under my girdle. Okay, maybe I needed a shower. A hot shower—that sounded good.

Jim looked at me worriedly. “You sure?”

I nabbed another biscuit on my way out. “Sure,” I said around my mouthful.

The shower felt wonderful, and even cleared my head of memories of Lupe enough to let that nagging thought get through: What had happened to Kaidlêarnien?

Lupe

No one was up when I got home, which was just as well. I snuck into my room, grabbed my stuff and another sweatshirt, and headed straight to school. I did this sometimes, after nights out—saved questions. Shower in the gym and, today, grab breakfast in the Commons—might as well get some benefit of free meals for being in the Program. Quicker today, given clean clothes were kinda pointless.

That early, no clothes box at the school door. I thought a moment, shrugged, and carried my sweats in.

The swim team was in the locker room—getting ready for practice, which meant the girls were too focused to be interested in requests. Which was just as well—after sex with Dana, twice, I was not up to getting it up. Though thinking of her, I did twitch down there.

I growled and stood under the spray, trying to wash her scent off me.

Madre de Dios, that had been sweet, this morning. I’d never thought I’d have sex with someone—that even if I had the chance, I’d let go and let myself. Maybe in losing control I’d taken advantage of her, of the moment, but it was hard to regret that. I’d just have to be more careful, in the future. I can’t afford to lose control. After all, there’s reasons I’m a loner.

A loner who wanted to screw a fairy again. And again, and again.

I snarled, and turned the water colder. It didn’t drive thoughts of Dana out, though, and I kept turning it down. I was almost shivering when I got out. That girl was getting dangerously under my skin. And I had to forget her. Even while helping her as my Program partner.

In the Student Commons, I caught up homework while I ate. Studying was better at keeping me from thinking of her. (“Schoolwork^TM—the New Cold Shower!” Think it’ll fly? Didn’t think so.) Getting stuff done made me feel better. I could almost look forward to going back to just impersonal partners—of Dana returning to her friends—without it hurting. So when it was almost time for homeroom, I went out to drop my sweats into the box.

Which startled the principal, seeing someone come out the main door already naked. I almost laughed—it wasn’t like guys on the swim team wouldn’t do this, when in the Program. Besides, I am a jock of sorts—who’s to say I didn’t come early for laps?

No one else really saw me—they were all watching Dana finish stripping. I could understand being distracted by that. I was. I stayed instead of going back inside, as she shimmied out of her short skirt.

And when she noticed me, as she dropped the skirt in the box, her smile seemed to beam into my chest—and my heart stuttered. She quickly caught my hand in a tight grip.

“Hey, partner,” she said as we stepped to the side, to let someone else strip. Her antennae leaned towards me like hounds on point.

Babs, trailing behind her, smiled as she handed Dana a large coffee. Fritz glowered as he handed off Dana’s messenger bag. Some kids in the front noticed us, and smirked.

So much for staying away from Dana. And ya know, I didn’t mind—hell, I wanted to give them something to really talk about. I almost muttered a Hail Mary, to stomp that thought down. I compromised by saying, “Hey.”

Her hand was warm—I didn’t want to let go, despite my earlier resolutions. Especially the way Fritz was looking at me. If he wanted her, why hadn’t he asked her? Dana didn’t seem to notice his reaction, though.

“Listen,” she said, “I’ll have to do Spanish during lunch, but maybe you can help me.”

“Didn’t get to it?” Babs said, teasing.

“No,” Dana said, far more cheerfully than I could have.

Babs hid her smile behind her hand. I was pretty sure she guessed what happened last night, at least the dawn part. And from Fritz’s sour look, he did too. The bell rang. Fritz waved a hand at us—or rather, at Dana and Babs—and muttered something like, “Catch you later.” Hard to tell. He pushed past through the door, ahead of the streaming crowd.

Dana pursed her lips as she looked after him, as if uncertain. Which all but confirmed that I didn’t want to let go of her hand. I mean, if she didn’t mind and wasn’t worried like she should be—well, who was I to force her to let go? This once. Dana carried her coffee in her other hand, so I held the door for her.

As Babs passed the rack of school newspapers, she picked up two copies and handed one to us. Rather than make Dana to let go of me, I took it. The lead article was about her—complete with photo of her coming in for a landing. She looked lovely and graceful. We stepped to one side of the hall, out of traffic, to look at it.

Babs flipped through her newspaper. “Your column looks good,” she said, then snickered at something.

Her column? “Yours Truly,” Dana told me, as if that explained it. She let go of my hand to take my paper, then passed me her coffee to open it up. Inside, on the “social events” page was a Yours Truly feature credited to Dana Partlow. She wrote a gossip column? Only it wasn’t gossip, but a confessional about being a fairy.

Then suddenly Dana gasped, “OMG!” She pointed to something on the page. “My column!”

Babs looked at her. “What?”

“I lied!” Dana said, totally panicked. Her distress rolled over me like rancid fat, only more redolent. She started babbling about lies and retractions and recalling the print run. And buried in the middle, the W word: werewolf.

Somehow, Babs and I got her into the only private place I could see: the boy’s bathroom. Forbidden to me for the week, of course, but it wasn’t like anyone else would use it during homeroom. I didn’t know whether to be furious or panicked or what. What was Dana doing, babbling about me? After keeping her own secret for years, she knew how not to blab. Just goes to show ya—I’d been kicking myself about my control, not even thinking about hers.

While Babs tried to calm Dana, I quickly scanned her column. The only thing I could see was a mention, near the end, of werewolves and vampires not existing. Well, that was good. What was her problem?

“But—but—but,” she said, “I lied! I can’t lie! That’s bad!“ She almost wailed that last word. Her antennae quivered so hard it was a wonder they didn’t fall off.

I finally realized—it was like her not cussing, her having to be good. Fairies simply do not lie. It hurt Dana, thinking she had. It was her nature. And I knew what I had to tell her. “No, you were mistaken. That’s different.”

“But I have to retract it!”

I caught her hands, letting the newspaper flutter to the floor. “No, you don’t. Mistakes happen.” I stared into her pale green eyes, trying to will her to believe me—to will a grip on herself. If she announced werewolves were real after all, it was all over for me. I’d seen the looks outside—people knew something was up between us. No way I’d avoid being fingered as the reason she went public.

“But—!” Dana started, but Babs broke in, “Dana!—remember what you told Jimbo about outing that girl?”

Which caught her up short. And me—I’d forgotten Babs was there. And now Babs knew too. Dana stared at her friend, wide-eyed, then turned to me. “OMG,” she mouthed, without voicing it. My chest wrenched a foot to the left.

I wanted to be pissed at Dana. Well, I was, some. But I had enough hold on my anger—control I’ve had to learn the hard way—to know I’d outed myself to Babs as much as Dana had. I could have covered it over. But only by letting Dana flail about in agony.

After a couple moments, Babs said conversationally, “You know, I didn’t know any werewolves were in town.”

Without looking away from Dana’s face, I said, “I don’t know of any.”

“Any others,” Babs countered. A disturbingly sharp cookie, that one.

Then Dana did a double-take and looked at Babs. “Wait, you knew werewolves are real?” Not that Dana’s all that dumb herself, despite appearances.

Babs waved that off with a limp hand.

“You set my column,” Dana said, more sharply. She let go of my right hand to face her friend. “You didn’t correct it.”

“I have to lay out the copy I receive,” Babs told her. “Besides, it’s not like I could admit it.”

Which brought up the question of how she knew about werewolves in the first place. And what else did she know? What the hell was she up to?

“And now?” I said. I didn’t try to keep the sharpness out of my voice.

“Babs,” Dana quickly said. “He’s right. It’s not your secret to tell.” She squeezed my hand as she said it—in warning, in support.

Babs studied me through narrowed eyes. Warily, but neither like a predator nor like prey—like someone waiting to see what I’d do, and had the power to defend herself if attacked. Finally, she said, “Thing is, I’m worried about you, Danes.”

Dana’s antennae stood up straight—surprised. “Huh?”

“Dana,” Babs said, still looking at me. “Werewolves are dangerous. It’s not even that they’re wild—they’re feral.”

“But Lupe’s not dangerous!”

“Yes, I am,” I told her. Because it’s the truth. And I owed her that at least.

Dana turned on me. “Not to me.”

“To everyone,” I said.

“And what happens,” Babs said, “when you write your retraction?”

Meaning what would I do? I didn’t know.

“But I can’t,” Dana said, with clear conviction. “You’re right, both of you. It’s not a lie direct.” Then to me, she raised her free hand. “If anyone asks me directly, I have to say the truth, that weres exist. But I won’t tell anyone. Omission isn’t lying.”

After a moment, I nodded. It bothered me—a lot—but it was her nature, and both of us had to live with it. Just as we had to live with mine.

“Please believe me—I’d never, ever, ever betray you,” Dana said, squeezing my hand. “Like, ever.”

The bell rang, ending homeroom. I looked at Babs. After a moment, she told me, “If you hurt her—ever.”

“Babs!” Dana protested. But Babs and I looked each other in the eyes. I wanted to snarl at the threat, but Babs was protecting a female of her pack. If I thought of it that way, it made sense. “Silver Mistress witness, if I do,” I said.

Her eyes widened at that, and she nodded. “I’ll keep quiet.”

I nodded back—acknowledged. I didn’t like having a second person knowing, but I had to trust her. Even if a threat would work on her, which I doubted, I knew Dana wouldn’t let me try—not the way she was tugging my arm. I’d have to get Babs alone—which I wanted to do, anyway.

What the hell was she, anyway?

Dana

Lupe picked up my mochaccino from the edge of a sink—how’d it gotten there?—and handled it to me. With a quick good-bye to Babs, we hurried to English, hand in hand. Almost made it before the bell, too.

“Dana, Lupe—relief?” Ms Emerson asked.

My boy and I looked at each other. I smiled, and he did too, wryly. No, we didn’t need relief. Not after this morning. Though in a little bit...

Tatja raised her eyebrows at us as we sat down, then crinkled her nose in amusement. I raised my chin at her—yes, he’s my boy. She pursed her lips and nodded. I thought in approval, though it was hard to tell. I wondered briefly if she’d be as disturbed as Babs (and why had she been? what was wrong with it?) to learn Lupe was a werewolf (not that she would)—but then Emerson called class to order.

Oh, right. A Midsummer Night’s Dream, act three.

Though actually, we only covered the first scene, with Bottom and Titania, and before that went back to act one to introduce the mechanicals. As Gillian pointed out, the third act’s totally long, so it’s not like there isn’t enough to talk about in just the first half.

I do have to say, I thought that was a very mean trick of Puck’s, with the donkey’s head—not like a fairy at all. And listening to Tats reading Titania fawning over Jeremy Briskin as Bottom?—that was Just Wrong. Tats should never be that goopy over a boy. Not that I can imagine her going out with anyone, though I know she and Babs have, a couple times.

We spent a lot of time talking about the whole love is blind thing. Tatja did point out that Titania isn’t blind to Bottom’s faults—”after all, she’s kinda turned on by the ears”—she just doesn’t care. Which made Lupe thoughtful. Good. I’d finally figured out why he was bothered by the idea of anyone getting close to him—because of the whole lone wolf thing. We needed to talk, just the two of us—maybe during lunch—so I could convince him I didn’t mind. That I like his furry wolf ears.

Well, I do! They’re like so cute, the way they swivel when he hears something, and perk up when he’s playful. Adorable.

Okay, so I was a little totally distracted, sitting next to him.

At the end of class, I caught Lupe’s hand before he left. “Lunch?”

After a moment, he nodded. “Sí, mi hada gringa.”

I had to laugh—with my moth-fair skin I am a rather Anglo fairy, even if I only learned English six years ago. I squeezed his hand and let him go. With regrets.

Tatja looked down at me amused.

“What?”

“So that’s the way of it?” she asked.

I could have pretended not to understand her. But instead, a little happy sigh escaped me. “Yeah.”

“Hmm,” she said. “You serious?”

I stopped in the hallway. Was I? So much had happened in a few short hours. “I don’t know,” I admitted. “I think so. I hope so.”