Beowulf (BoyxBoy, Werewolf)(Book 1) COMPLETED

Chapter 3

**Beowulf**

The second I walked into the living room I wanted to walk right back out and leave the house entirely. The scene in front of me has me sick to my stomach, my salad from lunch threatening to make an appearance.

My mother sits in a dark leather recliner with my father sitting on the armrest. The two people sitting on the couch is what makes me sick. I gulp down what little saliva I have left as I stand in the doorway with my backpack resting on one shoulder.

"There he is," My mother says, it's not hard to miss the way her voice shakes, or the way she has her lips in a tight line.

"How was training, Beo?" My father asks as he tries to ease me into the family meeting.

"Intense," I mumble not wanting to talk. I don't want to be here anymore, I wish to be back at the gym sweating my life away.

My father tries to smile but he fails miserably at it. I bite my lip as I avoid making eye contact with the two other people in the room. Why are they here? Something terrible is wrong.

"Beowulf, please come in and say hello to your uncle and cousin." My mother says quietly.

I bite my tongue as I slowly turn to make eye contact with my uncle. I haven't seen my uncle in two years, not since that terrible Thanksgiving. I avoid looking at my cousin like one would avoid the plague.

"Hey, Uncle Jeb," I say in a flat voice. I have to push my sweaty hair from my forehead as it sticks, at least I cut it so now it's not as long.

"Beowulf," Uncle Jeb says in just as flat a voice as I had used.

"What's up?" I ask as I look back at my parents.

Mom bites her lip as dad clears his throat. You can tell neither of them want to speak. Yes, something terrible must have happened.

Mom looks down at her hands in her lap as my father flits his eyes to stare at the wall. Oh god. My heart skips a few beats before dropping in my stomach. Something terrible happened to Aunt Dee, I just know it. Please God, don't let her be dead!

I choke back the tears that threaten to spill from my eyes. Aunt Dee is my mother's sister. She is my only Aunt. The Aunt who spoiled me for a year before she had her own son. My favorite relative next to my grandfather who sadly passed away from old age just last year. Aunt Dee was one of my best friends as I grew up, she was always there. She and her family moved away three years ago to Washington, that was the last time she was ever healthy.

"Au-," My mother chokes out. "Aunt Dee has been admitted to the hospital,"

My father rubs her back in a soothing motion, only I know it's not working. Moms only sister is in the hospital with cancer, I wouldn't believe her if she said she was fine.

"When?" Is all I can manage out as I lean my weight against the door frame.

"Last week," Uncle Jeb says. I can't bring myself to look at him. I can't imagine what pain he and my mother are in right now. Uncle Jeb loves Aunt Dee. If I believed in soulmates I would be positive they are.

I gulp as I stare at the beige carpeting. Last week my beloved aunt was admitted to the hospital, that means she is doing worse than I thought.

"We'll be taking Braider in for a while," My father says. I snap my head up to stare at my father, my jaw dropping practically to the floor.

"What? Why?" I ask loudly, it's only a few octaves lower than a shout.

My father bites his lip as he looks at me, he knows my feelings towards my cousin who only sits ten feet away from me.

"I have been called to be a doctor in Africa, Beowulf," Uncle Jeb says.

"Take him with you, I'm sure he would love to harass the animals and children there," I say as I snap my eyes to my uncle.

Uncle Jeb tries to laugh but it's to dry. "Beowulf, as much as it would be a great opportunity for Braider, he needs to stay here in America and finish his schooling."

"How long are you planning on being gone?" I ask in a hard tone.

Uncle Jeb shrugs his shoulders. "It could be up to six months to maybe even twelve,"

My jaw twitches from being so tight. "Six months to a year?"

Uncle Jeb nods his head slowly. "Hopefully I'll be back in time for your graduation, Beowulf,"

I have nothing to say. I want to scream and shout no, to not let Braider stay here. I hate Braider more than anything. I hate Braider more than I hate all the traffic in the world.

I can't scream and shout no though. The choice is not up to me to make, it's my parents. I can't deny my only cousin when his mother is in the hospital with cancer most likely dying. I can't deny Uncle Jeb the opportunity to doctor in Africa just because I can't stand his son.

"When are you leaving?" I barely recognize my own voice.

Uncle Jeb bites his lip. "Tomorrow morning at four,"

My jaw tightens painfully. "So you've already decided this," It wasn't a question. My parents already decided to let Braider stay without talking to me first.

"Beowulf, honey, Uncle Jeb called us two weeks ago with this information." Mom sniffles.

"Aunt Dee was only admitted a week ago though," I try not to hiss.

"We knew she was going in soon," Uncle Jeb says, the grief in his voice evident.

I swallow the lump in my throat and blink away the tears that pool in my eyes. I'd bet anything Uncle Jeb took the doctoring job in Africa because he couldn't handle his wife in the hospital with cancer.

"Fine." I turn on my heel. "Have a safe trip and have fun, Uncle Jeb." With that I head up the stairs to my bedroom.

I lock the door behind me as I throw my backpack on the floor and head to my bathroom. I skipped showing after training so I could make it home in time for our family meeting, now I'm wishing I would have showered just to hold off the terrible meeting just a bit longer.

I take my time in the shower. The hot water drowns out my tears that I can no longer hold back. Aunt Dee was the world's greatest aunt. No, she still is, she is still alive.

The water loosens the knots in my back as I rinse the conditioner out of my hair. The suds fall from my hair and body wash racing down the drain.

I must have spent a good half hour in the shower because by the time I get out the water had already turned freezing cold and my skin turned into a prune. I just couldn't bring myself to get out and face the world again. The shower is my escape from this wretched world, next to my training of course.

The bathroom is no longer steamed up, instead it is freezing cold. My feet slip on the tiled flooring, I grab the edge of the sink just in time to catch myself from doing the splits. I have to catch my breath before grabbing my towel and wrapping it around my waist.

I barely have the energy to pull on a pair of boxers before I collapse onto my bed. My hair soaks my pillow but I ignore it as the fatigue and sorrow hit me.