Eyes of the Wolf

26
I waited outside after Chris had boarded the blood bus, reminding her to just breathe deeply and not focus on any blood related things in there. She looked like she was either going to pass out or puke. Inwardly, I prayed to anything that would listen and do something for her.

I sat back down on my bench, under the supervision of two blood center people who, I’m pretty certain, thought I was a child. Maybe Chris’s younger sister. Either way, I looked small and defenseless, so anybody approaching me was going to get the leery eye, I could tell. Well, I couldn’t see anybody but some scruffy-looking guy who seriously needed to shave, and he wasn’t even paying attention to us—more interested in his newspaper.

I looked down and examined my hands. The scabs on my palms had turned dark brown, and were beginning to peel at the edges. When I looked closer, I found fresh pink lines where it had healed over. I scratched absently at the edges, then paused when I glanced at my chest. A dark red, birthmark-like spot was visible to me just below my neckline. Heat crept up my neck again, and I tried to tell whether or not anybody else could see it. Then I realized that I had probably been sitting and staring down my shirt for way longer than normal, and my head snapped up and I checked to make sure nobody had seen me. As far as I could tell, nobody had noticed. Maybe they were just polite.

But crap, I had a hickey on my chest! What else was visible?

God, I was a slut…I had known him for two weeks…

And now my head was going in circles like a car with only left wheels. But had all those planned parenthood classes all come to this? No condom, no pill—we were all prepared to fornicate right in the middle of the woods like…like…

Like a pair of wolves.

“Maya?”

Drake jogged up to me, a piece of paper in his hand along with a bottle of water. His chocolate brown hair bounced on his neck until he pulled to a quick stop less than six inches away from my spot.

“What are you doing here, Maya? You haven’t been at school all day.”

What was he doing here? That was the real question. I was on the verge of a breakdown. Again. “I didn’t feel good.”

He glanced at the bus. “So you’re giving blood?” He sounded skeptical.

“I’m too light. I came with Chris.” Shouldn’t he be in school?

“Oh. She’s giving blood?”

Duh. “Yeah. She wanted me to come with her for support, but I’m not allowed in the bus.”

The people at the table were looking suspicious. Did they think that Drake would hurt me? Well, he looked old enough to maybe be dangerous to a child of…maybe…twelve.

“Huh. Maybe I’ll see her in there, then.”

“You’re giving too?”

“Yeah.” He grinned and held up a permission form. “Not quite eighteen yet, but I’ve got the form.”

“Cool.” Go bleed then.

“You okay?”

I glanced up at him. He was looking concerned now. What did I do to get such abrupt concern from everybody?

He frowned and bent over, reaching out and brushing back my hair to look at my neck. The moment he did, his hand snapped back and his head looked like it had absorbed all of Chris’s faded hair color. “Oh, um…”

Great. Neck hickey. And Drake knew about it now. And was still talking.

“Well, I’m uh…glad you and your boyfriend are getting along again.”

Something in his voice made my mood change quickly. I felt my irritation sink to a deep weariness, and suddenly it was all I could do to keep from crying.

“Maya?”

“We’re not.”

“Not what?” His voice held a nervous waver.

“Not getting along.” Why was I telling him this?

“Oh.” He shifted on his feet awkwardly, obviously not sure of whether to sit or stay standing to hear me out. I pitied him.

“I’m sorry,” I told him. “Go ahead on inside. Chris is probably almost done in there anyway.”

He hesitated. “How long has she been inside?”

I looked at my watch. “About fifteen minutes.”

“Then she’s not almost done,” he said. Silence tried to take hold again, but he shrugged it off. “Look, if she’s gonna still be in here, I can stay and keep you company until she gets out.” I tried to read his expression, but it only changed to one of dry amusement. “I’ll make sure no creeper comes and messes with you.” It was a poor attempt at a joke, and he obviously knew it. Having nothing else to say, he plopped himself down next to me and Chris’s purse with his hands between his knees. This time, quiet got its grip over the conversation.

I tried to catch my train of thought again, masochist that I am, but I kept getting distracted every time he shifted position. Finally, I just started watching him furtively. He would try to entertain himself—examine his fingers, pick at the peeling paint on the bench—and then glance up at the door. He didn’t seem aware that he was doing it, either. Was I missing something?

His knee had just started bouncing when the door opened and Chris stumbled out. She glanced around until she saw me, and walked unsteadily over.

“How’d it go?” I asked. She smiled.

“It was fun. I mean, not that having my blood sucked out of my arm is fun, but the people there were really cool. I hardly even noticed any blood or anything—everybody was really nice. And afterward they brought me those really sugary hoe snacks, and usually I don’t like those, but it was really, really good this time, and then I drank apple juice, and then I got up and came out.”

“Did you take the fifteen minute break?” Drake asked.

“No.” She seemed unfazed by his presence. “I didn’t need it—I just got right up and walked out. I’m fit as a fiddle.” She grinned. “How fit is a fiddle, anyway?” She shook her head, making her hair ripple. I looked at her arm, and saw the dark blue bandage strapped to her elbow. From a distance, it looked the same blue color as her hair, but close up it was just a bit darker.

“Why don’t you sit down?” suggested Drake. She rolled her eyes.

“I don’t need to. Besides, I need to talk to Maya.”

“You can do that when you’ve rested.”

“Yes, and I can do it now, too. Fuck off, will ya?” She gave him a weak shove, pushing her more away from him than him away from her. I sighed and handed her her water. “Thanks Maya.”

“Come here, Chris,” I said. She frowned at me. I raised my eyebrows, and she walked over. When she had made her way to me, away from Drake, I pushed back my hair and showed her. “What’s here?”

“Shit, Maya, is that a hickey?”

“I guess so, if that’s what it is,” I replied, exasperated, since her voice had been much louder than I would have preferred. Drake was blatantly not looking at us.

“That’s from Niko, right?”

“Who else?”

Her eyes went wide, and she leaned very close to me. “Did you…you know…”

“No.” Her mouth opened again, and I said firmly, “I’ll tell you later. Okay?”

She pouted.

“Are you guys coming to school?” Drake asked from the sidelines.

“No. Maya feels like shit.” Chris gave him the biggest “whatcha-gonna-do-‘bout-it” look that I’d ever seen.

“Are you good to drive?” He looked skeptical.

“I’m not allowed to drive,” I said.

“I’m not asking you,” he said, beginning right when I started to say “allowed”. “She’s the one with a license, isn’t she? Is she okay to drive?”

Chris’s jaw jutted forward. “I am perfectly fine to drive, dragon boy. Fuck off, and fuck you.”

“Chris…” I groaned.

“Dragon boy?” Drake looked bemused, but angry too. His eyebrows had disappeared into his semi-long bangs. Chris’s eyes were wide and furious too. Ice queen she still was, but one with command of a blizzard.

“Chris, quit it,” I said, tugging on her arm. She jerked it away, her eyes never leaving Drake.

“Dragon boy, fuck the hell off,” she snarled.

“Make me, psycho bitch,” he parried.

She shoved him.

He shoved her.

I held my hair between clenched fists and made the most irritated noise I could muster. It went unnoticed. I glanced around for somebody that may be able to help, but scruffy-guy had disappeared, and the blood-drive people didn’t look like they wanted to be involved in a fight between teenagers.

The pair was now circling like a pair of cats. Wolves. I groaned again.

“Both of you, stop!” I said. I was ignored. Finally: for the first time today I wished I was with the wolves again. Whoop-dee-doo. Hey, at least they weren’t slapping at each other.

I stepped between. Chris glanced at me, then stopped. Drake did too. Was it really that easy?

“Let’s go home, Maya,” Chris mumbled to me. She looked kinda guilty, but her blush didn’t come as easily due to her lack of blood. Drake seemed sulky.

“You really shouldn’t be driving, Chris,” he called softly after us.

“I’ll do whatever the fucking-hell I please, shitwipe,” she snapped, her clicking heels accompanying her sharp voice perfectly.

“Chris, don’t get angry,” I chided in the most soothing voice I could manage. I hadn’t seen her that close to a fight since we were grade-schoolers. “You’ve gotta drive.”

“I’ll drive just fine.”

“Don’t you snap at me, too,” I said, stopping dead. She clicked past me a few steps before realizing I wasn’t following, and when she turned she looked annoyed.

“I’m not snapping at you.”

“You are too. Stop now, or I’ll sit here until you calm down.”

“You won’t—”

I sat, in the middle of the concrete, like a burro.

“Maya.” She came over to me and grabbed at my hand. It took a few tries to get it, but when she did, she pulled. She was stronger than me, but I had gravity with me. Plus, I was pissed as hell. So she dragged at my arm, and I only followed like a jack ass with worms.

“You’re not supposed to lift heavy things, you know,” I hissed at her. She let go and swore, glancing at her bandage, even though it wasn’t that arm she had been yanking with. I tried not to fall over backward at the sudden force imbalance. I hated physics sometimes.

“Are you calming down?” I said. She paced a bit, then took a breath and walked to me.

“Are you coming or not?” Her voice no longer held blizzards, but storm clouds billowed ominously in her face. Slowly I got to my feet again, and we got in the car.