Shifted #Wattys2016

XLVIII

Here's what I know:

Greyson is the leader of this pack, even though he's one of the youngest. He thinks everything in life is a joke and no big deal and he loves sex. And he's brilliant in a street smart way. He's seventeen.

Emerson is the druggie. Meth is his favorite, although he'll settle for cocaine if he can't score—which isn't often. He'll go out once a week to his friend's farm where the friend manufactures the chemical and Emerson will get enough to last a week. He's up all night in the shed—which is really just one step smaller than a barn—his room, and doesn't eat. But he's strong as hell. I don't know how he does it. He's twenty-one.

Jac is the youngest. She's timid about everything and doesn't ask any questions. She's most timid around Greyson. I wouldn't say timid, but cautious. She's got this faraway look in her eyes and the only one who cares about doing laundry or the dishes or cleaning the house. When she's not cleaning, she's in her room listening to soft music. She's sixteen.

Matt and Rosa aren't that old. Mid-forties. I don't know why they surrendered rule to their son. They're still capable of ruling the pack. I often wonder if they wonder about Felix. If one of them were to ask me about him, I feel it'd be Rosa.

There's no talk about my previous pack, unlessit involves them bashing Felix, and even then that's rare. I don't dare bringup the old pack whenever I talk, or tell stories. Hell, most my stories involvethem. So I come off as the quiet one. The new one. The one who has yet to learnthe rules, the spoken and unspoken. The one who still doesn't quite feel athome. I am nineteen.