A/N: I've been wondering a lot lately about how old most people reading/posting here are. I know there are quite a few people like me that have just stopped being teenagers, and some adults but I get the feeling a lot of people are younger. What is the median age you think? 11? 13? 16? 17? Is there some sort of statistics about that somewhere? It would just be nice to know and help when deciding how "naughty" of a rating a story should have!
Seven
- Cookies, Carvings and Compromises-
Part II
*Annabeth*
//
I banged my fist on the glass. "No you don't. You're a good person. I may not know all that much about you but I know that. I saw it in your eyes." I thought about how he'd looked at the popcorn I'd brought him. How surprised and happy he'd been by something so small. "You just need a chance."
//
He turned and stared at me like I was crazy; like the idea of him deserving a chance was so beyond what he himself thought he just couldn't understand how I had come up with it. Then he smiled a little before looking back down, studying his hands.
"Ryan, I..." I said, wondering how to convince him. But I guess there was something in my voice, because he looked up and smiled again.
"A chance huh? Well it seems like a moot point anyway," he said after I tried another birthday and the light flashed red. I swore. "Since you don't seem to know the code."
"It's a birthday, I'm sure it is. I'll try April's. He might have used it twice." But April's birthday didn't work either.
"You try your own?" he asked as I swore at the control panel some more.
"No," I said and did. Much to my surprise the light flashed green and part of the Plexiglas slid to the side.
Ryan stayed seated on the bed but raised an eyebrow. "High tech," he commented. He must have been unconscious or at least to drugged when they put him in there.
"My dad likes computers and gadgets. He invested all sorts of money into it over the years and most of it paid off so he can indulge," I said walking into the Cage. Ryan still didn't get up off the bed.
"You should go outside. What if it locks automatically or something? I don't want you trapped in here with me," he said, looking a little panicked at the thought.
"Well if you don't want that to happen, how about we'll both go outside, is that-" My phone beeped indicating the cookies were done. "Hold on. I have to get the cookies," I said before leaving the Cage and hurrying back through the basement and up the stairs. Ryan stayed on the bed. I shook my head. Something was seriously wrong with the boy. He had a chance to leave his prison, heck I would even help him escape all together - even if that would piss my dad off royally - if he asked me to. But he was just sitting there.
The cookies came out a little brown and kind of ugly since they had no shapes. April had always made all sorts of shapes, Christmas trees, people, hearts, snow men and even wolf-shaped ones and I felt a little like I was messing up when I dropped more dough on the tray. But I figured I might be able to save them with some icing. Yeah, they'd be fine. After I put the tray in the oven, I put some of the finished cookies on a plate and took them with me back into the basement.
A little to my surprise Ryan had left the Cage and gone over to the work bench, where someone –Jimmy I guessed- had put his green military jacket.
"I brought cookies," I said lamely as I got closer.
He looked up from the jacket and smiled. "You got flour in your hair."
YOU ARE READING
The Things We Hunger For
WerewolfRyan is a werewolf; a fact he has spent the past year attempting to run away from. Because frankly being a werewolf is not all it's cracked up to be. Then he gets himself stuck in a bear trap; putting his running days to an abrupt end. At least unt...
