My Wolves Can't Help Me Now

Chapter Twelve

Sang's Perspective 

By the time the pack settles down on a piece of wooded land days had passed and everyone droops with exhaustion. Mal allows the pack an hours rest before waking them to build the den. The pups and I go out hunting for sturdy branches while the rest start digging and forging for foliage to cover the den once a structure is in place. My back aches with each branch acquired, all at the minimum of nine feet in length. Not very thick, but that job belongs to the pack warriors. 

Back at camp I let the wood tumble out of my arms and three wolves come over immediately to make use of them. I follow them to the commotion of construction and spot my target, Malcom. I whistle softly and he looks my way before dipping his head in acceptance. My work is down and the urge to explore takes over my every step. I wander for five minutes before the rushing of a large creak is heard. No wonder Malcom chose this part of the woods, I thought. He has always shown himself to be a good leader. I sit at the bank and let the freezing water run over my toes. 

There is peace here. 

It is not long before I stand back up. Now, where to go? About twenty feet ahead the trees patter out to flat lands. I will go there. My stride lengthens with each step. A feeling to rush nips at my heels, so I do. Now in an all out sprint I see the outline of a building that had once been obscured. I stand in the middle of the clearing with my chest heaving as people come and go from an old church. How interesting for a church to be this busy at an unusual hour. My feet carry me inside where I find food being served instead of prayers. A full blown smile escapes me. Such a sweet restaurant and so close to home too. Maybe they are hiring. I walk up to the man at the register, a great mural of the ocean painted on the wall behind him. 

"Hello, and what can I help you with today?" he asked, his voice a rough timbre.  

"Oh, umm... An application please," I stuttered out, embarrassed by my actions. I push my bottom lip to my teeth. The man locked his deep brown eyes with my own and hands over the paper. Signaling the person behind me to step foreword. I moved out of the way and sat at a bar stool to look the paper over. I was not sure how I was going to answer most of these questions. Name, Sang Sorenson, and date of birth, 10/05/2000, seemed straight foreword enough and even I could write down a high school, but where would I get a phone number without a phone? Or a recommendation for that matter. I seriously doubted they would approve of me putting down Malcom's name. Once I filled in what I could I returned it to the man who was now unbusied of customers. He saw me walking his way and stretched his arm out to snatch the paper back. He looks the paper over thoroughly. The scrunch of his brow portrayed his confusion.  

"Thank you," he muttered, looking up. "We will get back to you." His disgruntled appearance reminds me of a puppy. I slap my hand over my mouth, fearful of a laugh slipping out. Thankfully, he had once more turned his eyes to the paper. 

"Me and a few friends of mine who work here go to the same high school as you, Ashley Waters, where we will contact you for the possible position," he spoke, a small smile graced his features. 

"Until then," I whispered, unsure he heard me. I walk back to the door and a voice behind me spoke, 

"Until then." The smile sprawled across my face did not leave for hours. 

When I make it back to the pack my face aches and dusk has settled over the sky. The den is nearly done. Good thing too, I thought. I rubbed at my arms as goose bumps appear. The fall weather is rolling in. I walk into the den to find my place with Mal's family. It is only when I have a family of my own do I branch away from a place at the Alpha's side. I lay beside Storm, his grey form already sound asleep. Listening to his breathing it is not long before I too, fall asleep. 

In the morning I find myself seemingly in a state of paralyses, gazing at the woven ceiling of branches. Who knew nerves could be so strong. Today is my first day of school and I know the feeling will pass. If only it could hurry up and leave. I inched my face away from Storm's paws and stood up, stretching. The clothes I wore from yesterday are the ones I wear today. They have some slight stains of dirt from sleeping on the floor, but my other clothes stuffed in my bag are just as grimy. I will need to find the town's laundry mat soon. With nothing left to do but slip on my sandals I don't bother looking behind me as I leave. Mal will know where I have gone. 

The walk to school was short, five to eight minutes at the most and in that time I saw a cul de sac containing twelve beautiful homes with a park close by and surprisingly later down the road was Bob's Diner, the one I applied at earlier. The closer I get to the town center the more modern the buildings become, breaking away from the residential area. Once I reach the school I was shocked. The exterior looked like it had seen better days like in the 1990s. It was painted a dark blue with a greyish green trim. The field of portables behind it a muddied white. I drag my feet walking in with students already pushing around me to be reunited with their friends after a warm summer break. I head to the office for my schedule and locker. Shoot! That's what I forgot. School supplies. At least I won't need the locker. Still, I look at the clock mounted to the wall. Seven fifty-five. Five minutes until the first bell rings. I feel my shoulders slump as I walk on, my mood rolling down in tandem. 

I almost walk past the office door, so focused as I am. When I open the door the secretary at the desk immediately reminds me of a grandma with her hairdo and pale pink sweater. 

"Here you go, dear," she said, handing me a paper without asking for my name. Am I the only new kid? I hope not. I would be the talk of the school. My face burns just imaging it. Great. 

"Thank you," I told her. She smiled and went back to typing on the keyboard. I squint my eyes. That computer looks as old as I am. I leave before I weird the kind lady out. Now, with the school map in my face I look for my first period, room 312 with Mrs. Townsend teaching physics. This ought to be interesting. The bell is close to ringing when I shove my way to the door and past the loitering students. I glance at the room number before entering, 312. I did it! I do a little happy dance knowing my directional skills did not fail me this time. I stop when I am side eyed by the masses. I deign myself to give into their judgmental looks and walk inside to claim a seat away from them. Only, my feet become planted to the floor when I spot him. 

Luke.