Chapter 4: Late!

The sleep’s crusted extra deep in my eyes, I think, as I rub it out. Back to human hands, apparently, judging by the smoothness on my eyelids. I blink gently and almost hiss at the light. It’s like I’m nursing a bad hangover. Crap, it’s January and light out. That means…

“I’VE SLEPT THROUGH MY ALARM” I yell as I jump out of bed and wrestle some jeans, a t-shirt, and some new underwear on. Mama is already downstairs working, judging by the lack of daytime TV, which means I’ve really slept through my alarm. It’s gotta be past 9. As I pull my clothes on and run outside my room, I only confirm what I’ve already suspected: 9:38 AM. I shake my boots on and run out the front door, locking it behind me roughly as I fumble with my keys.

I nearly slide down the stairs, I’m running so fast, and I see my bike already unlocked for me. God bless Mama, she knows how to think ahead for me when I’m having a rough time. The big issue is not that I’ve got anything important, it’s just that my teachers are real pains in the ass about this sort of thing.

I finally get my bike going as I kind of break some traffic rules to get to class. I finally arrive at the building, only a few car horns worse for the wear. It’s then I realize, I’ve forgotten my backpack. I don’t have homework today, but some teachers are surely going to be giving me the eye. I sigh as I check my phone. 9:51 AM. That’s probably the best time I’ve made all my time in high school, 13 minutes. Nice.

I lock my bike up and rush in. Classes are just about to switch, but I walk into the office first. The secretary peers at me. Despite my looks, I’m not a regular late attendee.

“Lupo?” she asks, “I recognize you as the pizza boy.”

“That’s me, Ms.” I pause as I read her plaque, “Braun.”

“Ms. Braun is out for the day, I’m Mrs. Dean, the vice principal,” she replies.

“You sure you’re not the dean?” I joke.

She remains unamused. “Do you have a note, Mr. Lupo?” she asks.

“No but I’ll call my Mama real quick,” I reply.

I dial Mama’s number on my phone, and after a few rings, she picks up. “Teresa, I was rolling the dough! Could you call another time?”

“No can do, Mama, and it’s Wolf,” I emphasize, hoping she’ll get the hint, “I’m late to class because I was sick last night and slept in, I’ll need you to confirm that to the VP.”

“Ah, Wolf, my apologies,” she replies, “right, hand me over.”

I hear a quick exchange, followed by Mrs. Dean raising her right eyebrow, then nodding as she notes information my mother is probably dictating. Finally, Mrs. Dean disconnects the call for me, and then turns to look at me.

“No more excused absences around the full moon will be necessary, Miss Lupo,” she says, “I’m aware of what happened with your brothers, and I’ll take care of it personally once you let me know you’re ready to change any name or pronouns with your teachers. We at Lakeville Public Schools do respect our gender and species diverse community, so please don’t hesitate to inform me if anyone, especially teachers, cause you problems. Looking at the time it is, I suggest you head to class now.”

“Call me Teresa, please,” I reply absentmindedly, shocking myself at my own confidence as I step out of the office into the hallway.

I steal a pen from someone’s backpack in the hallway and run across the building to my history lecture, where the teacher is already writing random dates on the board, then explaining them. I’m honestly glad I didn’t bring my notebook, I have an excuse if he calls on me about something from last class. Fortunately, it’s over as soon as it’s begun.

At lunch, I skip out on what they’re serving. I normally prefer to eat the food Mama makes, but seeing as I’ve left that and my ID card at home, I’m stuck with nothing. Tom comes and sits next to me, carrying his tray of what looks like sloppy joes. I’m not sure I’m too upset about missing out on that.

“You want my sandwich? I’ll trade ya!” he jokes.

“Nah I’m good,” I reply, punching his arm.

“Shame, now I have to eat it,” he replies.

After he gets a few swallows in, visibly minimizing the time it spends on his tastebuds, he looks over at me and asks, “so where were you this morning? Missed you before school.”

“I got sick last night,” I reply, wincing for effect.

“Ah, that’s right, full moon, your family probably got you wasted on cheap wine again,” he replied, smirking.

“Hey, that was once on Rob’s twenty-first,” I protest, “most of the time we just listen to pops rant about how mobsters aren’t loyal anymore. Who knows, maybe he’ll have to do some honest work at the restaurant before he retires at this rate.”

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“With those Charles Atlas specimens you call brothers? No way,” he replied, “hey, when’s that gonna happen to you, bones?”

I tense up a little, and I can see a spark of worry in his eye that he’s touched a sore spot. Trying to calm him down, I say, “Hey, I’m just glad I don’t look like ‘em, I’d rather be bony than beefy.”

“That’s fair, that’s fair,” he replies, “I can’t imagine you like that anyways. Your heart’s too gentle to hurt a fly.”

“Hey now!” I object, “plenty a fly that’s landed in my way has been smacked with a newspaper, I’ll have you know.”

“But never one of your father’s enemies, yeah?” he asks.

“Nah, I could never, I’d rather be a pizza delivery boy the rest of my life,” I reply, chuckling.

“I’d believe it,” a voice says as I turn around to look, and glare at who I see.

Who I see is Ottolina Fischer, grade-A asshole. If it were the 80’s, she’d probably be the high school bully. As it was, she was just kind of annoying. Didn’t help that she was a werewolf like, well, me now, I guess. Gave her a little extra muscle on her figure, and all of a sudden she acts like she’s tough shit. Mama told me never to hit a girl, and her father told her never to hit a pipsqueak, so we never did end up fighting with more than words, but hers were incredibly grating.

“Good morning, Lina,” I reply, “tried the sandwiches? They seem up your alley.”

“That’s your idea of small talk?” she replies, her eyebrow raised as her arms cross.

“What, you want me to ask ‘how’s the weather up there’ instead?” I reply, putting my feet up on the dining room table as I smirk.

“I swear, Lupo, I’ll knock that grin off your face the moment you get some muscle,” she growls at me.

“I look forward to it!” I reply, browsing my phone for extra emphasis on the ‘please go away’ aspect of the reply.

Unfortunately, it seems her nose is caught on some aspect of a scent nearby, as she sniffs the air. She turns to me and glares.

“Lupo, you got a girlfriend or something?” she asks, “it’s like I can smell her on you.”

“Nah,” I reply, “unless you’re offering.”

“Fuck off, straight boy,” she replies, “I’m fucking serious.”

“And I’m Wolf, nice to meet you,” I say as I hold my hand out for effect, “but really, no girlfriend. Probably my cousin or something you’re smelling.”

She studies me for a few seconds, as if trying to find the intent behind my words, before huffing and turning tail. “Alright, if I find her, she’s mine,” she yells as she stomps away.

“Damn, rude,” Tom says once she’s out of hearing range, “a nose like that’s kind of nifty tool, though.”

“Yeah, don’t get me started on how my mom uses it, it’s like I can’t hide anything from her,” I reply, rubbing my forehead.

“Sounds rough, man,” he says as he packs up his lunch tray and tosses it in the bin, “I would stay and chat, but I got a chemistry test to study for. You wanna help me out?”

“I wish I could, I gotta talk to some of my teachers to ask about what I missed,” I reply, walking with him out of the room until we reach a corner where we part paths.

“Alright, see you later, man!” he says as he finds a bench to sit on a little bit down the way.

One thing was for sure, I’d have to be more guarded about my scent after I turned each full moon, especially if Ottolina was on the trail. Wouldn’t want more of her, uh, investigation into this stuff.

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