Chapter 8 Homework
1096 Words
Abby's POV
As we made our way down the dirt path toward the cabin, I could feel Burnt pacing restlessly in my head. It was like she was running laps in my skull, her energy bouncing off the walls.
"Burnt, what is your deal? Why are you pacing like a caged animal? And why did you block me out when we shifted last night? That was weird. Spill it."
Burnt hesitated. "Abby, I can't tell you. If you knew what I was feeling, it would only make things worse."
Oh, hell no. "Burnt, your vagueness is making it worse! You’re muttering up there like a conspiracy theorist, and I can’t concentrate! Plus, the blocking me out thing? It felt like you were talking about me behind my back, except in my own head! What do you have to tell my parents that I can't know? You’re supposed to be my partner, my best friend. My wolf! You don’t get to keep secrets from me!"
Silence. Great.
Honestly, I had no clue what Burnt was supposed to be to me. Between my parents conveniently 'forgetting' to mention we were werewolves until Burnt practically clawed her way into existence, and their frustratingly vague explanations of wolf politics (packs are bad, rogues are worse, don’t get involved), I felt like a complete outsider in my own species. I had no idea how many of us were out there, what a pack even looked like, or what the point of one was. I knew my parents had both come from packs—Dad’s in Arizona, Mom’s in New Mexico—but their past was a black hole of 'we don’t dwell on the past' and 'tomorrow isn’t here yet, so why worry?'
Lost in my thoughts, I didn't even notice Burnt had blocked me out again. Was she just being moody, or was she actually hiding something?
"Earth to Abby!" Mom’s voice sliced through my thoughts like a knife. I blinked and realized we were at the creek, right across from the cabin.
"Are you gonna stand there all day, or are you gonna help unload and fix this roof?" she teased.
I reached for the truck handle when I spotted Dad carrying a whole pallet of wood across the creek like it was nothing. As I looked up at the cabin, a shiver ran down my spine. Something felt... off. Like I was being watched.
I glanced around, scanning the trees, the shadows—nothing. Just an unsettling, creeping sensation of eyes where there shouldn’t be any.
"Burnt?" I called to her mentally. "I hate when you block me out. What the hell is going on?"
Silence. Again.
"Boo!"
"WHAT THE—MOM!" I shrieked, nearly jumping out of my skin. She just laughed as she hoisted another pallet onto her shoulder, completely unfazed.
"Oh, come on, I couldn't resist. You were a million miles away." She smirked and carried on toward the cabin.
Shaking off the unease, I noticed they had already unloaded most of the truck. Dad had moved on to the enclosed trailer. "Abby, get the batteries to the battery shed and then meet me on the roof," he called. "Your mom's setting up the electricity and getting started inside while we knock out this roof."
I did as I was told, then climbed up the ladder. Dad was already set up, tools and supplies neatly arranged, broken frames removed. He must have pre-planned everything at the hardware store—cutting materials to size so all we had to do was nail them in place.
One thing about Dad—he was a damn good carpenter. Mom liked to brag that he built the entire cabin in three days. Dad liked to grumble that it would’ve taken one and a half if she hadn't insisted on a 'quick' shopping trip in the middle of it.
"Dad," I asked casually as I hammered a nail in. "Did you and Mom talk to Burnt after we shifted last night?"
"Nope." He kept his eyes locked on a shingle he was pretending to measure.
I squinted at him. Liar. Dad had a tell—he always rubbed his tongue on the inside of his lip when he was fibbing.
"Why do you ask?" he said, still very interested in that shingle.
"No reason," I muttered, filing that away for later.
After we finished the roof, we headed inside. Mom had dinner ready, and I was starving—but the real prize? A hot shower. Bathing in the lake or hot springs was fine and all, but nothing beat an actual shower.
I had just scarfed down my food when Mom crushed my dreams.
"Abby, I cooked, you clean. Your dad and I are going to get cleaned up."
Ugh. Code for 'We get first dibs on the shower.'
"Gross. Just say you’re showering like normal people. I don’t need to think about... whatever that was implied." I made a gagging motion.
Dad smirked. "Awesome, I can chase your mom around a bit afterward."
"OH MY GOD, STOP. Why are you like this?" I covered my ears as they burst out laughing. Mom squealed as Dad lunged at her, and they disappeared upstairs.
I had never washed dishes so fast in my life. I needed to get out of there before they traumatized me further. Once I was done, I stepped outside, inhaling the crisp night air. The last slivers of sunlight bled through the trees, fading into deep twilight. Just a little longer, and I could shift.
I wandered down to the old sandbar where I used to play as a kid, memories washing over me. Learning to swim, testing myself against the current... This place had been home for so long.
As the sky darkened completely, I stretched and stripped down. Burnt was ready before I even finished, shifting in a flash and bounding toward the water. She dove in, paddled through the deep section, then leaped onto the bank, shaking off before rolling in the dirt for the hell of it.
I laughed. It was rare to see her this carefree.
Then... a prickle ran up my spine. That same feeling from earlier. Someone was watching us.
"Burnt?" I called in my head. "Do you feel that?"
She froze, sniffing the air, ears twitching. Then she slowly trotted back toward our clothes. "Nope. Just us out here."
But instead of shifting back in the open like usual, she ducked into a cluster of trees first.
If there was no one around... why the sudden need for privacy?
- Writer
