He Said Caring for Me Was Tiring, So I Left

Hazel's POV: Black Pine scheduled graduation photos early, in the fall. We still had more than six months left before graduation, but the entrance exams for the werewolf academies were already approaching. When we returned to the classroom, I was still wondering whether to ask Dylan Hudson about what he had said. Before I could, he pointed behind my ear. "Where's your hearing aid?" I touched my burning ear. The loudspeaker on the field had been giving off a piercing whine, so I had taken my hearing aid out while we were lined up for the photo. "I put it away. It was bothering me." He glanced at the speaker behind me, got up, and turned down the volume. When he came back, he deliberately faced me so I could read his lips. "Wait for me after school. I'll take you home." For a moment, I almost let myself believe I had misread his lips during the photo. When the last class ended, someone beckoned to him from the back door. He tapped my desk and bent down to look at me. "Wait here." I packed my bag and stayed in my seat. I waited for two hours. The maple woods outside the window slowly darkened, and even the students on the training field had left. I took out my phone, but no matter how many times I pressed the button, the screen wouldn't light up. I had forgotten to charge it that morning, and using it in class to turn the teacher's speech into text had drained the battery long ago. Ms. Wood was making her rounds when she came to my desk and gently touched my shoulder. "Hazel, why haven't you gone home?" She had taught us for three years and always remembered to face me when she spoke. She looked at me with concern and handed me her phone. A message glowed on the screen. Ms. Wood: It's getting dark. Shall I take you home? I shook my head, though I was growing more uneasy by the minute. "Dylan said he'd come back. I'm afraid he won't find me." Ms. Wood frowned at the clock, then typed another message. Ms. Wood: Dylan, Hazel McCauley is still waiting for you in the classroom. Twenty minutes later, he ran through the door, his bangs damp with sweat. Relief washed over me, followed immediately by hurt. He stopped in front of me, frowning slightly. "I sent you a message telling you to leave without me." "I didn't see it." I tried the power button again, then held out the dead phone for him to see. He stared at the black screen. Some of the impatience between his brows faded, but he offered no explanation. He simply picked up my bag. "Let's go." On the way home, he kept his head down, replying to messages. A few times, he turned slightly and his lips moved. "What did you say?" I leaned closer. He shook his head and looked back at his phone. When we reached my building, several young werewolves were waiting beside an SUV at the curb. Candice Stowe leaned against the door and waved to Dylan with a smile. I recognized her. She was captain of the Black Pine Hunting Team, and her photograph had hung on the honors wall in the corridor for years. Dylan walked over to them. I stayed by the porch, where I could just make out their profiles. "What are you doing here?" "We came to get you. We're heading into town to keep the party going." "Give me a minute. I'll take Hazel upstairs first." Dennis Pierce curled his lip. He made a point of turning toward me and enunciating every word. "She's already home. Can't she get inside by herself?" Then he looked back at Dylan, plainly annoyed. "We're celebrating Candice's early admission today. Everyone's waiting for you." Candice's smile was radiant. "Ravenhall sent the notice today. Our team's results met their requirements." Dylan turned toward her, a smile lighting his eyes. "Don't get so caught up celebrating that you forget the application materials you promised me." "I'll send them tonight." As I watched them, I suddenly lost the courage to ask what I had meant to ask. When Dylan came back, I took my bag from him and tried to sound casual. "Go with them. I can get upstairs on my own." He frowned. After waiting until I looked up at him, he asked, "Are you sure you'll be all right by yourself?" I nodded and pushed open the glass door. Before it had swung shut, Dennis waggled his eyebrows in our direction again. "Aren't you going to tuck your little girlfriend into bed first?" Dylan stepped sideways to block him, his expression darkening. "She and I are just friends. Don't make disgusting jokes like that." My hand froze on the door handle, my face burning with humiliation. People had teased us countless times since we were children. He had never denied it before. I didn't dare look at Candice. I lowered my head and walked inside, unwilling to let them see my face. The stairs were in the rear courtyard. As I passed through the corridor beyond the door, I found a maintenance van blocking the area near the stairwell. I didn't hear it honk. As I went around the front, I saw the van moving in my peripheral vision. Its side mirror had already brushed my bag. I jumped aside, tripped, and caught myself with one hand on the gravel. Pain shot through my palm, leaving me stunned. The driver leaped out and spoke to me in a rush, but though I watched his lips, I couldn't understand what he was saying. The blood on my palm reminded me of a nighttime training session the year I first learned to shift. The coach had blown his whistle to recall the group, but I hadn't heard it and kept following the markers on the trees. When I finally looked back, everyone around me was gone. By the time Dylan found me, I was huddled at a fork in the trail, too afraid to move. He had crouched down and taken my icy hand. "Don't be afraid. I'll take you back." After that, whenever we went into the woods, he always agreed on signals with me beforehand. If the route changed, he would circle around so I could see him gesture. When the other children laughed because I couldn't hear, he shoved them into the snow. A pair of hands suddenly supported my arms. I looked up to find Dylan crouched in front of me, his brow knotted tight. "Didn't you say you could manage on your own?" He looked fierce, but his touch was gentle as he picked the gravel out of my palm. He didn't leave until he had taken me all the way inside and put me in Mom's care. I looked down at the bandage wrapped around my palm. Remembering how carefully he had cradled my hand, I couldn't stop the corners of my mouth from lifting. He still cared about me.