Teethmarks and Wolf Pelts

I cram whatever book I'd brought home last night -though, I couldn't even concentrate on my homework- into my backpack and sling it over my shoulder. I bite my lip and decide to steal a glance at the window. It's something my brain urged me not to do, but my overwhelming sense of fear and anticipation makes me look. I wait for several, drawn out seconds before I notice the small flicker of movement behind the tree. Lewis's crew are sneaky, patient kids. I take a long breath and head down the stairs. Upon entering the kitchen, my mother smiles politely at me. I take a seat at the table and a moment later she brings me a plate of bacon and eggs. I begin to eat and she pours herself a cup of coffee before sitting in the chair next to me.

"You okay, Priss?" My mother asks, pulling her bathrobe tighter around her. It's now toward the middle of September and the air has been very chilly lately, so I didn't blame her for being cold. I'd tell her to just turn on the heat, but my mother is the type of woman who won't turn on the heater until the first snow. Her brown hair is just a shade darker than mine and falls a little past her shoulders, complete with natural waves. Her emerald green eyes match mine, yet hers are softer somehow, more experienced in life. I look at her with a phony, clueless expression.

"What do you mean?" Her gaze meets mine. She doesn't believe me, I know it, but she plays along.

"I don't know. Ever since you started school this year, you've been different. Quieter," She leans in close, a very concerned, motherly expression on her face. "Is something bothering you?" When I shake my head, she asks, "Is someone bothering you?"

I want so bad to give in, tell her that Lewis is watching me like a hawk. I mentally curse Connor for putting me in this situation- a situation that I find could be potentially dangerous. I shake my head and place a smile on my face, one that I try to make real. If not for me, for my mother. I can tell she's struggling to believe me. Finally, she speaks. "You know you can tell me anything, right, Priscilla?"

"I know," I smile again and finish my breakfast. I grudgingly get up and leave the kitchen. I place my hand on the front door's handle and just let it linger there. I almost feel the need to stay here, skip school. But that would make it easier for them, I think. My mother works during the day and me alone... Well, it would be an opportunity for them to get to me. Going to school and being surrounded by other is my one and only option right now. I sigh and all I can think about as I step outside is: I really am in danger, aren't I?



Another week passes by, but everything seems to have gotten more aggressive. They're no longer just following- they're starting to make subtle threats, even slight pushes in the hall. Until today, it's been pretty mild- except for the day when Lewis nudged me with his shoulder so hard I was slammed into the locker. So many students just stopped and stared at me as he just walked on. Not one of them bothered to help me.

I sigh as I wait on the steps outside of the school. I'd missed the bus, but I can't call my mom. She's not off work for another hour and she's not allowed to leave until she clocks out. So I just wait and pull my jacket tighter around me. Time ticks by, but I still can't concentrate on anything. I know that I'm being watched. One more week Connor. This better be worth it.

My leg starts shaking and I feel a pair of eyes on me. I check in every direction, but nothing comes into view. I even look as far as I can into the woods that are more-than-clichely placed to the left of the school building. I squint, still trying to see anything- and there it is. A flash of blue fabric. I bite my lip, but this time not from being scared. I know the one in the woods is Lewis, he was wearing a blue shirt today. I bite down even harder, but it's because I'm so angry. I'm angry at Connor for leaving me with no idea where he went or why- just not to let these guys know anything. I'm angry at Lewis and his gang for stalking me, trying to get information that I hardly even have. And finally, I'm mad at myself for letting any of them get to me.

So, just like that, I stand. And I run.

I run as fast as I can, my feet making a slapping noise as my shoes pound against the pavement. In a matter of seconds, I break the treelike and keep going farther into the woods. I stop when my lungs feel like they're on fire and I can't take any more of the pain. I walk even farther as I catch my breath. I come up into a clear area- not a clearing, but a place where most of the thorn bushes and trees were out of the way. I let the anger from earlier surge through my veins, letting all of it flow out through my voice. "Just fucking stop it, Lewis. I don't know anything! You can leave me the hell alone now!"

I get no verbal response, but instead I'm thrown to the ground. Lewis uses his full weight to take me down -a good 170 pounds, plus he's muscular and determined- and he uses his body to hold me in one place. At that moment my anger forms back into fear. I whimper and there's only one thing I can say, one thing I can beg. "Lewis, please don't do this!"

He sneers and he grabs both my hands in just one of his, holding it above my head. The pressure he uses to hold them down makes me cry out. His blue eyes are full of harm, danger, and something else I can't dignify. Something almost beastly inside him. "I'll ask you one more time," he tells me through gritted teeth. "Where the fuck is he?"

"I-i don't know!" I sob, a few tears actually falling. He's holding my wrists so hard that I fear they might break and the pressure of him sitting on my chest to hold me in place- well, it's almost indescribable. I feel like every bone in my body is about to snap and I cry out in pain again. I hear a slight rustle somewhere to either side of me, but I'm to focused on Lewis to find out who or what is there.

"You lying bitch," he snarls and that's when his fist collides with my stomach. The full force of the blow makes me choke on my own breath and when I'm able to scream, blood spill out of my mouth. I wiggle underneath the teen, but he won't budge. He keeps looking down at me with that beast-like look. I wiggle in a way my body can't handle and I scream again. This must enrage Lewis because he raises his fist, shouting. "Stop. Fucking. Screaming!"

I bite my lip as hard as I can, still tasting my blood in my mouth. As far as I can see, the blood has spilled down my chest. I moan in suffering, waiting for the attack, but just as his fist would have made contact, something flies in his direction and knocks him off of me. With the pressure off of me, I cough up more blood. It's just filling my mouth, trying to go down my throat. With much difficulty and unbearable pain, I manage to roll over and prop myself up on my hands, spitting out all the blood I can. I even throw up a little.

Next to me, all I hear is grunting, shouting, and fists hitting skin. Someone has come to my rescue, I hope, I think desperately. I silently yell at myself. It was stupid of me to chase after Lewis like this, I should have known better. I struggle to stand. I feel lightheaded and empty, like I'd coughed up more blood than my body even holds. It's stupid to think that, but that's what it feels like. But what what I see before me takes away my pain -for a brief moment at least- and my satisfaction level raises.

Lewis is locked in combat with another, smaller boy. This boy is much short, less muscular, but is holding his own quite nicely. He has a slim build and is probably only five foot eight, but the biceps on his arms signal to me that he works out. After a moment of watching them fight, I realize he's part of Lewis's crew. The mystery boy lands a boy right to Lewis's cheek. When he pulls his fist away, Lewis's face is bleeding and that smug look is gone. "You said we wouldn't hurt her. Hurt anyone who isn't like us. You know the rules!"

"You know you aren't supposed to be such a whiny bitch either," he spits and punches the boy, his plow landing to the forward. Lewis's fist comes back bloody. Suddenly, the boy just stops and looks at the blond. His brown eyes narrow at the bigger male and he takes a deep breath.

"You need to calm your temper. You need to Run. Go," he says. When Lewis's is still standing there, that look of blood-lust still on his face, the mystery boy lets out a low growl. "You need to go now."

And just like that, Lewis turns and starts running deeper into the woods. The boy turns to me and I can finally take in his appearance. He's wearing a simple form-fitting tee that shows off the abs that lie underneath. His muscled skin is tan from many hours in the sun and his brown hair is short and curly. He wears a long necklace, the blue feather on the end nearly reaching his waist line. His perfectly red lips curve in awkward, sly smile. I breathe out, my words barely a whisper. "You saved me."

The words make me feel like I was just some damsel-in-distress. Like I wasn't capable of handling myself. I guess in that moment, I hadn't been, but I still hate the feeling. My gaze shifts up to my hero's forehead, the gash still bleeding. It doesn't look deep, but it still looks like it hurts.

Then I remember my own wounds and how they hurt like hell.

"Look, I'd apologize or ask you not to go to the cops, but that's not my first concern," he says as he cautiously steps closer. I actually welcome this and try my best to step forward, but it hurts to much. I let out a long, deep breath and try not to moan in pain. He places a warm, reassuring hand on my shoulder. "I won't hurt you."

"I know," I smile the best I can.

"I know this might make you uncomfortable, but could you lift your shirt so I can see the damaged area?" I look into his eyes and as far as I can tell, I pretty much owe him my life. Plus, he seems like a professional at this, just by the way he asked. I slowly roll up my now bloodstained shirt so we can both see the wound. There's a big, round bruise forming right below my right rib. He runs a warn finger over it, pushing slightly- I can't help but wince in pain. "Sorry."

"It's okay," I whimper but it's really not. It hurts more than anything I ever have experienced. He looks over the bruise, but I take time to comment on his wound. "Your forehead's bleeding..."

"I know, but it's okay," he touches my bruise again, poking harder. I have to hold back a scream. "I heal fast."

"So, does my fast healing hero have a name?" He chuckles and rolls my shirt back down. The soft fabric feels terrible against it, but I'm just happy to have my skin covered again.

"Yeah, it's Felix," he smiles. "Hey, I have some supplies at home that will help with that bruise. Do you mind coming back to my place for a few minutes?"

I consider this. If any other boy would have asked me this, I would have told them no in fear of them being to weird or them trying to rape me. But Felix had just saved me. And needless to say I'm in a lot of pain. I gulp, and nod, grabbing at Felix's hand.

"Sure- but you'll have to carry me. I don't feel very much like walking."

He lifts me into his arms -his strong, muscular arms- bridal style and then, we do the dumbest, most simplest thing we could probably do in our current state. We laugh. I would have kept laughing but when I steal a glance at Felix's face, I notice that the gash on his forward is nothing more than a pink line now.

It had healed in a matter of a minute or two. I shut my eyes and let him carry me, trying to convince myself that I hadn't just seen what I had.

But I had and no matter how hard I try to convince myself I didn't, I know I did.