My Resolution

“BREAKFAST!” I yelled as loudly as I could while ringing the massive captain's bell that Mrs. Boone had hung directly outside the back door of the kitchen. I looked out into the expansive backyard where the two large jungle gyms were crawling with little ones playing while the older kids were sitting on benches, under trees, and even up in a few trees, gossiping, reading, or catching up on schoolwork. I surveyed the area, and slowly but surely, they all started to trickle toward the outdoor dining area. I had been awake for about three hours now, preparing breakfast for the whole household. I didn’t always put that much time and effort into meals, but as we are all on a break from school for a couple of days, I thought it would be nice to go a little bit over the top for the kickoff of our four-day weekend. Everyone lined up at the extralong trough sink that lined the wall outside the kitchen. As everyone filed in, older kids started transferring dishes piled high with hot fresh biscuits and bubbling sausage gravy, golden pancakes, and hot maple syrup, steaming scrambled eggs, bacon and sausage patties, blueberries and chopped strawberries, and crunchy-on-the outside-soft-on-the-inside fried potatoes, pitchers full of orange juice and milk, as well as a pot of coffee all onto the serving table. Mrs. Boone was preparing plates of food for the little ones while the older kids helped direct traffic and set them up in highchairs, booster seats, or on one of the long benches that lined the large picnic-style tables. We ate al fresco during most meals unless it was just too cold to justify doing so. The whole house was a blocked “U” shape with dining in the courtyard area in the middle of the house. It was all covered and surprisingly well protected for being entirely outside; from the sky, it would just look like a massive solid house. There were three twenty-foot-long tables, with benches, extending side by side down the courtyard's center. The sink lined the wall closest to the kitchen door while serving tables lined the other two walls. I stood back while the other kids were being served, just taking in the amazing happiness around the house I was blessed to call home. I have been living here, at the Boone’s home for foundlings and orphans, since I was twelve. When our parents were killed in the war, myself and many other pack children had no family to take us in, so Alpha Frederick contacted Mr. and Mrs. Boone to help set up and fund their foundling home as an orphanage as well. All the children living in the home helped with various chores. I personally enjoyed working in the kitchen, folding laundry, and gardening. I find the tasks therapeutic, and besides, I always helped my parents when they were still alive, so I tend to find nostalgic happiness in performing these tasks that isn't brought on by much else. I miss my parents and my antebellum life, but I also know how lucky I am to have still grown up loved and cared for in my pack. Not all orphaned children are so fortunate to not only have a home to go to within their pack; but a home that is run by people who genuinely care about them, within a pack that embraces them regardless of circumstances. The proof of that is in the reason The Boone house was here in the first place. Mr. Boone was a pack warrior before he was injured in the war, forcing an early retirement. He spent years defending our pack and its lands against threatening packs and rogues. While on duty, the warriors regularly found abandoned pups from other packs and from rogues who had been killed. Mrs. Boone, unable to have children of her own, demanded she be allowed to open a home for foundling pups, where she could provide the love and warmth of a home and pack, regardless of their parentage. She knew the pups were innocent in all the dealings of the adults around them. Apparently, she had inherited a great deal of money from her parents, so she was able to fund the entire operation. When Alpha Frederick approved the plan, that was all she wrote. Mrs. Boone got the ball rolling, and she built up a home that had been taking in and raising foundlings for the last thirty years, and the last five years, orphans as well. Mr. Boone supported her efforts and worked as hard as she did in building the home and taking care of the children. The number of wolves around the territory who consider the Boones their parents has always been stunning to me. They’ve really done a work of compassion that few would be capable of doing. I will be seventeen in less than two weeks and am currently the oldest living in the house. I had seen three others age out after turning eighteen, but they were in no way abandoned by the Boone’s. They each had been able to build the future they wanted by either finding work within the pack or attending college. They still came home from time to time for holidays, summer vacations, or just to have dinner. The first to turn eighteen after I joined the family was Emma, who is currently expecting her first pup, so Mrs. Boone is creating a custom layette in mint green and brown, and Mr. Boone has been building a crib and rocking chair. This was all par for the course in the Boone house, but I hoped I could always be in awe of the love here. “Valerie?” Mrs. Boone’s sweet motherly voice pulled me from my thoughts. “Are you planning on consuming any of this feast you whipped up?” “Oh, yes. Sorry, I was just letting my mind wander while I waited.” “Your mind wanders more often and much further than any of the pack warriors combined actually wander, Val. You’re so much like your momma.” She said while wrapping her arm around my shoulder and giving me a gentle squeeze. “I hope so,” I remarked with a smile. She released me so I could grab a plate. I piled up some fruit and a buttered biscuit on my plate and poured a cup of coffee with cream before grabbing a piece of bench at the table and having my breakfast. I listened as some of the younger teen girls were chatting. Katie was telling Angelina about her new crush. “...he is so hot, girl. How have you not noticed this!?” Katie questioned. “When did I say I hadn’t noticed? I’m not blind, for crying out loud! I just don’t see the point in dating, or any of that s**t, just to find out someone else is my mate, that’s all.” Katie released an exasperated sigh, “I know, I know. But, still, he’s hot, right?” Angelina just smirked and nodded. They carried on their conversation. I personally agreed with Angelina; I saw no point in pursuing a teenage relationship that could and often did, end in heartache when half the couple finds their mate while the other half doesn’t. It’s a recipe for disaster, and I want no part in that. Truthfully, I don’t want a mate at all. Wolf culture is so heavily set on mating and producing pups, which is all fine and good, except I don’t want to have pups, ever. Blame it on my being orphaned, I don’t know, but what I do know is I have no desire to produce any pups. The first time I expressed my lack of desire to have pups, the other girls looked at me like I had sprouted two heads right there in front of them. After that, I decided it's best to keep those thoughts to myself, with rare exceptions. We don’t live in a world where a she-wolf not wanting to give her mates pups is acceptable, let alone normal. Regardless, I don’t want pups, so I don’t want a mate. There isn’t a male wolf out there that would be accepting of a life where carrying on their lineage would be denied, and it doesn’t seem fair to either of us, so why hope to cause that kind of pain to myself or anyone else. What kind of sick person would wish for such a thing? I finished my fruit, grabbed my dishes, and headed toward the kitchen, stopping to refresh my coffee. I began cleaning up the leftovers while the little pups were cleaned up and sent to play once more. Typically, since I prepared the meal, I was supposed to have some of the others clean up, but it was going to be a big job with all I had prepared, so I stayed to help. I had the habit of cleaning as I go, so really, it was just a matter of putting away the food and cleaning up the serving dishes, plates, cups, and silverware. Once the food was put away, dishes delivered to the kitchen, and tables, benches, and kiddie chairs cleaned, I left the rest of the washing to the others and headed up to my room to clean up. The house is set up so that all the pups under two are in a large nursery, ages three to five are in another spacious room that is accommodating to potty training, and as the pup's age, they are separated into smaller rooms where they only share with six, then four, then two, then finally at sixteen, we get to have a room to ourselves. It’s really nice having a space to myself now. My room is on the top floor of the big five-story house. I don’t know the first thing about design, but Emma helped me put my room together. She helped me pick a soft gray color for the walls and a royal blue comforter that she informed me was “pin tucked.” There are accents in royal blue, white, and some varying grays all over the room in the form of a lamp, comfy chair, some wall art, and little knickknacks shaped like elephants and orbs. I like it, so I think Emma did a fantastic job helping me. I set my phone on my nightstand and grabbed my shower caddy and a change of clothes, then made my way to the bathroom for a shower. I could hear my phone going off as I opened the door to my room so I could drop off my shower caddy. I glanced at the caller id that read “Donovan,” I hit the green button to answer but missed the call anyway. “Of course,” I said out loud to myself as I rolled my eyes. I don’t know why he was calling anyway; he knows I don’t possess the ability to answer that thing quickly. I glanced at my notifications, six missed texts. Seriously? Donovan: -Hey, Valley Girl! -What -are -you -doing -today? Such a dork, I thought, amused in spite of myself. This is why we’re best friends though, he drives me nuts, and I appreciate it more than I can explain. We have been friends my entire life, and he was my safe harbor after my parent’s death. He has that stupid nickname that he has called me for as long as I can remember. It's one of those things that’s only okay because he is my best friend. Most people just call me “Val,” but not Donovan. Me: -I can’t stand you, do you know that? Donovan: -She's Alive! -Want to hang out? I need to work on the project for bio, but there’s nuttin else hapnin here dis weekend Me: -Please spell real words, and I need to work on my project too, so we may as well help each other out. -I can walk over there, or we can meet at the library Donovan: -I just rolled my eyes so hard. I’ll use real words, but you’re not walking, Valley Girl, I’ll be there in a bit. I sighed at his response, I really didn’t mind walking, but I appreciated the ride. Me: -I’ll see you in about twenty minutes. I quickly pulled my long damp hair up into a messy bun and grabbed my school bag and knee-high black boots to go with my black leggings and loose sherbet orange and cream floral top, then bounded down the stairs. I found Mrs. Boone sitting outside watching the little ones play and let her know I was going with Donovan to work on schoolwork and hang out. “That sounds like a good day,” she answered, “have fun.” “I will. Oh! Also, I already made sandwiches for lunch, they’re on trays in the pantry fridge, and you probably already noticed the six crockpots full of chili cooking on the kitchen counter.” “Yes,” she beamed, “I notice the chili, but not the sandwiches. That was so thoughtful. Thank you, Val. Now, you have a good time, and get that project aced.” I smiled and headed to the front of the house after filling up a water bottle to go, Donovan would be here soon, so I decided just to wait outside. Less than five minutes later, his silver land rover came rolling up the long driveway. “Good morning” I smiled as I climbed in. “Hey, Valley Girl, you hungry?” “I’m good. I prepared a breakfast of champions this morning.” “Of course, you did,” he laughed “do you mind if I grab a sandwich before we head to the library?” “You don’t get to eat today. Didn’t anyone tell you that?” I joked. He just rolled his eyes. “Well, you can stop and grab something, or I can run in and put together a quick bacon egg and cheese biscuit. Either or works for me.” I suggested, still half chortling. “A Valley Girl breakfast sandwich deluxe, please!” It was my turn to roll my eyes. “Be right back.” He was fiddling with the playlist on his phone when I returned; after another second or two, he settled on some alternative rock band. I handed him his sandwich wrapped in parchment paper, along with a to-go container of fruit. As he backed out of the driveway, he began unwrapping the sandwich and tossed a couple of pieces of strawberry in his mouth, and he accelerated us toward the library. We talked about this biology project that had been assigned at the beginning of the week, and both agreed that this would be what breaks us. We are both in our senior year of high school, so despite it only being October, it's hard to focus on classes knowing we are almost finished with school. Plus, there are a lot of things to look forward to this year, like the various senior trips, parties, and dances. We tend to get along with whomever, so we attend about every event we want to. Donovan is far more popular than me, but frankly, I could care less. I have great friends, and no one bullies me or anything like that; I’m just far more introverted than Donovan is on his calmest day, so I tend to be on the sidelines a lot, primarily by personal choice. At the library, we each quietly delved into our respective projects, occasionally swapping books or asking the other a question about the notes. About three hours later, we emerged from the library, each happy with the progress we had managed to achieve. Neither of us was finished, but we each had several resources and rough drafts pointed in the right direction. At this point, we were ready for lunch, so we stopped at the grocery store to grab some quick lunch to go. The store has this incredible buffet-style hot food and salad bar, where you pay by the pound, so we loaded up on fried chicken and big salads before heading to the park to eat. We liked taking food to the park because there was a trail in the woods where, as children, we had found a small clearing within a particularly dense section of the forest where this humongous Japanese maple tree grew in a clearing with a small stream running over rocks, cutting through the soft grass. It was beautiful year-round; the clearing seemed to adapt to the atmosphere around it in a way that made it unique regardless of sun, wind, rain, or snow. We found a place to sit under the grand tree and started munching on our lunch; well, I munched, Donovan devoured his food. I know we’re werewolves, but I still found myself dumbfounded whenever I witnessed a full-grown, or nearly full-grown, male werewolf eat. “Are you breathing?” I snickered. He looked me in the eyes with a hurt expression on his face and promptly threw an olive at me, which smacked right in the middle of my forehead before bounding away. “You’re the weirdo here, Valley Girl. Werewolves are hungry beasts,” he boasted, while flexing his bicep, “you don’t eat like a werewolf.” “Hey, I like food!” “I know, you eat all the time, but you’re all dainty about it, very peculiar,” he said with a whisper while looking around suspiciously, then back at me with raised eye and a cheesy smile. “Yeah, yeah.” I laughed before taking another bite of my chicken. “What’s the plan for the big seventeen in a couple of weeks?” “Mrs. Boone is planning a party for all of us at home,” I answered, “She always goes the extra mile.” “Yeah, she gets into it, but I meant besides that. Any other plans?” “Nah, you know me, I’ll pass on being the center of attention. How about the usual Chinese takeout and a movie in the packhouse theater?” I suggested. I much preferred low-key to over the top. “Your wish is my command, Valley Girl. What kind of flick this year?” “Surprise me! But, no horror, you got me?” “Sure, sure, Valley Girl.” We hung out for the rest of the afternoon in the clearing before heading back home. Donovan’s mom made him promise he would be home for dinner, and I needed to be back too. We said our goodnights to one another when he dropped me off in the house driveway, with Donovan promising to text later if he had time. As I walked in the door, I was greeted by Bennett, a six-year-old little boy who had been found in a cave just outside the pack territory by a couple of the warriors when he was still an infant. It seems the cave had been set up as a home of sorts, but he was alone. He was promptly brought to the Boone’s after he was discovered. Within the cave, he had a few personal effects and even hospital paperwork documenting his birth; otherwise, we would only be able to estimate his age. I found out a year or so ago when a toddler was brought in, that they often had to estimate ages. No one ever knew exactly how old a lot of the foundlings were until they got their wolves at eighteen. Since Bennett’s parents were listed on the birth certificate, it was easy to find out that his parents were born rogues and had recently been killed in some sort of altercation involving another pack. Bennett is my special buddy; he said hello and gave me a big hug before making his way back into the courtyard to wash up for dinner. I ran upstairs to drop off my book bag and ran into Mrs. Boone on her way down. “Hi, Mrs. Boone.” “Hello, Val. Did you have a nice time?” “Yeah, we got pretty far along on our projects, then we grabbed lunch and hung out at Serenity Falls Park.” “Sounds like a nice afternoon. Is Donovan going to come over for your birthday party?” “He didn’t say, I know we are going to celebrate the way we always do, with Chinese and a movie. I can find out if you need me too.” “No, no, don’t worry about it,” she responded as she started making her way down the stairs, “He’s always welcome around here, you know that. He’ll be here if he has the time. After all, it’s got to be a busy life being the alpha’s oldest son.”