Never Free

Ch.4 The Quiet Between Them

A few years later…

The schoolhouse still smelled like lemon oil and dust. Byron glanced at the old photos hung on the wood-paneled walls of the hallway. It used to be an old cabin, back when the pack had larger numbers. Now, it was converted to a pack schoolhouse, with old Ms. Kendry as the teacher. Ms. Kendry had been an old teacher when his parents were children. Byron could see her smiling face in the class photos lining the hallway, and he could also see her slowly age in each one.

He turned into the room used for the eight students the pack now had and looked at Ms. Kendry at her desk. She seemed ancient.

“Good morning, Byron,” she chirped, her voice shaking with age.

“Morning,” he replied, his tone even.

“Good morning, Xochi,” Ms. Kendry continued. “I see you two have walked together again to school.” Xochi popped her head from behind Byron as they stood on the threshold.

“Good morning, Ms. Kendry,” Xochi answered quietly.

Byron walked into the empty classroom, with its chairs on desks and clean floors. They were always the first ones at the school in the mornings, attempting to avoid Brandon. Byron and Xochi would wake up early, have breakfast before everyone else, and cut through the forest to get to the schoolhouse before any other students. It allowed them some peaceful Moments before the day's responsibilities began.

They put their things down and began lowering the chairs off each desk.

“Yes, Ms. Kendry. We like being here early,” Byron smiled at the old woman. She grinned in return.

They sat at their desks once they finished getting the classroom ready for the day. Byron sat at the front, farthest to the left and right next to the window, but Xochi sat in the third row, behind everyone else and closer to the storage closet.

Byron watched as she pulled out her notebook and a yellow pencil. That was strange, he thought.

“Where's your red pencil,” he asked Xochi, trying to keep his voice down. The red pencil wasn't anything special. It was just a plain red mechanical pencil with little specks of glitter on it, but Byron had given it to her last year when she had mentioned that since she had come to the Walton pack, she didn't have birthdays anymore. Feeling horrible at the thought of Xochi never having a birthday, Byron gave her his favorite pencil. He had earned it for getting the highest test scores that year and cherished the prize. But seeing Xochi grapple with life here on the Walton pack island caused his stomach to drop, and all he could do was hand the pencil to her.

She had loved it and cherished it as much as he had. She used it for everything, so seeing her without it was perplexing.

“It's missing,” she shrugged and returned to drawing in her notebook. Byron’s brows knit together, but he didn't say anything in return and let Xochi enjoy her peaceful morning.

Eventually, the other children entered the classroom, and the quiet was replaced with the noisy din of conversations and movement. Brandon was the last to stroll into the room. A large, self-satisfied smile plastered on his face like he owned the room. Technically, he did.

Ms. Kendry clapped her hands once, getting the class’ attention.

“Alright, children. Let's begin our day with arithmetic,” she declared. A low groan escaped from a few of the kids. “Go ahead and take out your-”

Ms. Kendry stopped when she noticed Byron’s mother standing by the door, a sugary sweet smile across her face. Byron’s stomach dropped. Why was she there? She had tons of other responsibilities to take care of, so why was she standing here in class?

Amber motioned for the older woman to come out into the hallway. “May I speak with you this morning, Ms. Kendry? It should only take a minute.” His mother's dulcet tone made Byron’s stomach flip. He had learned long ago that it was never good when his mother used that tone.

The older woman shuffled out to the hallway, leaving the door open. They spoke in hushed tones so that children couldn't hear, but his mother seemed to be doing all the talking, and Ms. Kendry only nodded along.

Byron looked at Brandon and saw him leaning back in his chair. His arms were crossed over his chest, and his legs stretched out in front of him, crossing at his ankles. He still wore that self-assured smile. Something was up, and Brandon knew about it, Byron's gut told him.

It wasn't long before Ms.Kendry shuffled back to the front of the room. Byron expected his mother to leave, but instead, she stood near the door, that sugar-sweet smile back on her face.

“Class, before we start on our arithmetic, let's congratulate Brandon Walton,” she announced with stiff cheer. “He will take on the role as our new Student Alpha.”

Amber clapped first. The sound was sharp and intentional, like a cue in a play. The other students followed suit, some slow, some too quick, but no one dared stay silent for long.

Except Byron. And Xochi.

Xochi sat motionless in her seat, hands folded tightly in her lap, expression unreadable. Her jaw tightened, but she didn’t look at anyone—not even Byron. Still, he noticed. He always noticed.

Brandon stood and gave a slight bow like he was royalty. The performance made Byron’s stomach twist. He knew that look—he had seen it reflected too many times to count. It was Amber’s.

Fake sweet. Perfectly measured. A lie wrapped in charm.

Ms. Kendry went on to explain what the role would entail. Brandon would lead the class during various events, coordinate with Ms. Kendry on future school activities, and help mediate between peers when problems arise. These were all things Byron knew Brandon was not cut out for, but the pieces were falling into place. He now understood that his mother had arranged all of this, probably so that Brandon could begin learning how to be a leader, but Byron knew. He knew that Brandon wasn't a leader.

He saw proof at morning recess.

Byron leaned against the wooden railing near the edge of the patch of grass they called the schoolyard, watching as Brandon helped a younger boy pick up a spilled stack of sticks the boy was carrying. Brandon’s voice was syrupy, coaxing. “All good, buddy. Happens to the best of us.”

The boy mumbled thanks and scampered off. Brandon’s smile dropped immediately as he watched the boy run towards his waiting friend. His jaw tightened.

“Ungrateful little runt,” Byron heard him mutter under his breath. What did Brandon want from the kid, Byron asked himself. The boy was about 6 years old and obviously terrified of the future Alpha. This was just a sign that Brandon had no empathy for anyone.

Byron clenched his fist but said nothing. What could Byron have said that would change Brandon? Nothing.

The day continued as usual except for the end of the day when Ms. Kendry told Brandon that in his new role, he would get to designate classroom chores for everyone in the class. So, of course, he chose Byron to pick up trash off the classroom floor, and he assigned lock-up duty to Xochi, which meant she would have to go around the wooden building, locking up gates and doors, but before that could be done, she would have to wait almost an hour while Ms. Kendry finished up her tasks.

Ms. Kendry's hands and eyes could no longer make out the locks in the dimming sunlight. It wasn't safe for her to traverse the uneven ground without fear of falling, so one of the students was tasked with the unwanted job. With Brandon picking, Byron knew Xochi would always have it from now on.

Byron watched Xochi, but she gave away nothing. At least not while Brandon beamed at her like he was triumphant in some way. Once his attention moved on to something else, Byron saw the small sigh escape her lips, and he decided he would wait for her so he could walk home with her. The sun would be setting by then, and he didn't like the idea of her walking home alone.

He started on his classroom chores as soon as his mind was made up. He figured he would wait by the old oak tree outside the building, but he was suddenly interrupted from his planning by the sight of Xochi’s red pencil inside Brandon’s open backpack. Byron had leaned down to pick up a small piece of paper beside Brandon's belongings and saw it neatly stashed in one of the side pockets. Byron looked around to make sure no one noticed and slid the pencil into his pocket before continuing to pick up trash off the floor.

He wasn't surprised that the pencil was in Brandon’s procession. He had spent the last three years tormenting Xochi, hating everything related to her. Brandon was sure to do any little thing to annoy or pester her, and it drove Byron crazy. He just couldn't understand why he was so unfair or why his mother allowed it, sometimes even encouraged it. It wasn’t right.

Eventually, the children were dismissed and filed out of the schoolhouse. All except Xochi, who sat quietly at her desk, waiting for Ms. Kendry to finish her day so she could do her designated task. Byron did as he planned, walking up to the old oak tree near the schoolhouse and dropping his belongings, waiting for Xochi. After a few minutes, he became bored and thought about working on his tree-climbing skills while waiting. He found himself perched atop one of the tree’s many branches, looking down on the small wooden buildings belonging to the pack.

Sitting up on that tree was quiet and peaceful. Byron was enjoying his activity when he finally saw Ms. Kendry walk down the front steps, taking one wobbly step at a time. She slowly made her way home, and Byron was just about to jump down from the tree when he saw Bradon rush out of the forest and head toward the back of the schoolhouse.

What was he doing here, Byron asked himself.

Byron decided not to call out to his brother. He thought it wiser to follow him instead, so he lowered himself soundlessly to the patchy grass below. He allowed some distance between himself and Brandon, but when he finally turned the back corner of the schoolhouse, he found Brandon had pushed Xochi against the chain-link fence. She looked up at him, purely defiant, but she was cornered. The way Brandon leaned in close, hands loose at his sides but full of tension, set something off inside Byron.

He moved before thinking.

“Back off,” Byron sneered, shoving Brandon away from Xochi. Brandon turned with a smirk.

“Relax, little brother. We were just talking.”

“Doubt it, but try that again, and you’ll regret it.” Brandon’s smile sharpened as Byron stared down his brother.

“You’re getting bold. Thought you liked to play quiet,” Brandon laughed, an edge still in his words. Byron didn’t reply, and Brandon began to cackle. “You both are stupid,” he bit off as he turned around and left, leaving Byron and Xochi burning holes in his back.

“You’re not as charming as you think,” Byron mumbled once Brandon turned the corner. He then turned his attention to Xochi. “Are you ok,” he asked.

“Yeah, he didn’t do much besides shove me into the fence.”

“That’s only because I didn’t give him time to do anything.”

“Probably,” Xochi shrugged, “but thanks for showing up.” She beamed at him, and he felt like he had just saved the world. Pinning a medal on his chest wouldn’t have made Byron half as proud as he felt when Xochi smiled at him. So, he did the only thing he could do - he smiled back at her.

He helped her lock up the schoolhouse, and together, they walked home, talking about books they had read and joking about Ms. Kendry and their classmates. By the time they got home, the sun had set, and they were in much better spirits.

“Byron? Xochi? Is that you,” Amber called out from the kitchen. “Come wash up. We are having a special dinner today since Brandon was named Student Alpha.”

Byron rolled his eyes at Xochi, and she giggled into her hands, trying to hide the sound.

“OK, Mom,” Byron called back.

Amber and Brandon were already sitting at the table when Byron and Xochi joined them. Amber was all honey and warmth.

“My boys,” she purred, setting down her glass with dramatic grace. “One to lead and one to guide. Isn’t balance a beautiful thing?” Brandon soaked it in, grinning over his steak and mashed potatoes plate. Byron stayed silent, watching his mother carefully.

Amber slid her gaze down the table to Xochi, who was quietly eating, her eyes on her food. “It’s strange,” Amber said smoothly, smiling across the table, “how some children struggle to learn loyalty.”

Byron’s grip on his fork tightened. He didn’t answer, but he understood what his mother meant. Xochi was never good enough in her eyes. To his mother, Xochi failed to fall in place, learn her role as future Luna and was resistant to her guidance in every way. Amber had lost her patience with Xochi not long after getting here and pressured her to fit in, but Xochi pushed back, making Amber even more resentful. Her comment tonight on loyalty was a dig at Xochi, saying that she will never learn to be loyal.

But Byron knew Xochi. Xochi was his loyal friend, but she didn’t give loyalty away. You had to earn it from her.

After dinner, Byron went upstairs to his room and passed by Xochi’s bedroom. He stopped, remembering something, and walked to her open door. She was sitting on the floor, her notebook open, drawing a picture.

“Hey,” Byron called out. She snapped up to look at him and smiled.

“I found this,” he said, lifting the red pencil and giving it a few shakes.

“Oh,” she grinned as Byron tossed the pencil. She caught it mid-air without flinching. She turned it over in her fingers, eyes softening for just a second. Then she looked down and smiled.

She didn’t know he’d found it, but she was grateful. She dropped the yellow pencil and returned to drawing, using her favorite red pencil instead.

He turned to leave but paused. There was something steady in how she moved now, pencil in hand. Like maybe the day hadn’t broken her after all.

He smiled to himself and closed the door behind him.