Chapter 11: Believe

"You are never alone. We are all wolves howling to the same moon." ~Atticus

Zoey

The refreshing smell of the Earth fills my lungs, immediately waking me up, and elevating my mood. I look around at the greenhouse that I tend to myself. The sun shines through silver aluminum framed crystal panels, bathing the plants in its sparkle, while the steel shelves holding the pots of flowers have sprinkles of dirt atop them. Flowers of every color, various species, are all assorted in here. From germaniums, to roses, to orchids, to hibiscus, all of them have a home here.

I grab a watering can from one of the shelves and go down each row, careful not to drench any flowers while not leaving them dry. I go through my usual routine of adding fertilizer to the plants who need it, and checking under plants for any pests who want to kill them. After I'm done, I grab a couple of tiny tomatoes from the vegetable section, go to the sink and thoroughly wash them off, before plopping down on my chair in the corner, and popping them in my mouth. Mhmm, so good.

I'm so overcome with bliss that I don't see my mom entering from the far left corner of the greenhouse. She's looking around in awe at all the plants and I can't help but blush in appreciation that someone thinks these plants are as beautiful as I do. When she reaches me, she kisses me on the cheek, and sits down on the chair opposite me.

"Wonderful plants you've got growing out here, honey. There's so many! You've got to let your dad and I hire someone to help you tend to them." She says in that poised, yet airy voice of hers.

I shoot up straight at this. I know this may sound ridiculous but the greenhouse is the one thing in life that I feel is truly mine, and mine alone. Sure I have other material possessions, like my phone for instance that belong to me, but I raised this greenhouse from the ground up. I designed it myself, I carried in all the shelves and pots, I planted each seed, I made my own fertilizer—I did it all. Not only because nature inspires me and fuels me, but because I wanted so desperately to create something.

"No mom I'm fine by myself, really. I don't need help." I say, trying to not sound too uptight.

She nods warily, looking down at my gloves on the table. They are caked in soil, and have tiny little holes in them, I've got to get a new pair. She shakes her head in mild disgust, "Really, Zoey, a lady like you should not be getting her hands dirty." I look down at my baby blue manicured fingers that, excluding the speck of dirt that must have fallen on the back of my hand, look as flawless as ever. I wouldn't be opposed to getting my hands dirty, especially to garden, but my mom wouldn't allow that in a million years. She wasn't always like this, so rigid. But ever since dad got his promotion and we've been in the public eye, there is just always some way to improve to her.

I change the subject. "Not that I don't love your company, but is there a reason you came in here?" I say.

"Oh, that's right. I just wanted to let you know that Kyle is here. He's sitting at the breakfast table right now." She said, a wistful smile coming to her features, I sometimes wonder if she has a crush on him, she seems to like him more than I do, but that isn't exactly hard to do.

I try to feign a genuine smile, but it's hard. I'd be lying if I said there is any actual chemistry between Kyle and I. We look compatible, he's the sexy heartthrob who happens to be captain of the swim team, and I'm the school's sweetheart. It makes sense that we'd be together, well that and the fact that my parents insisted.

My mom adds, "How are things going between you two lovebirds by the way?" I grimace at the nickname, I like him well enough, but that is far from love. He was my first so many things, and yet I can't help but feel like I've been cheated by life, deliberately given a terrible hand of cards, forced into a binding contract that I didn't even sign.

"Fine." I say nonchalantly.

"Just 'fine?'"

"Yes, fine. What's wrong with fine?" I ask, beginning to feel slightly annoyed. But then again, a person in a romantic relationship shouldn't really describe it as 'fine,' right?

"Zoey, I don't need to remind you how important this partnership is to your father."

Here we go again.

I stand up abruptly. "I'm going to go see Kyle now." I shoot her a fake smile, and walk angrily out of the only place that makes me happy.

***

What makes a perfect family?

The immaculate and adorned house with the white picketed fence with luscious grass so green and healthy, it almost looks like it was pulled straight out of a cartoon? Or is it the people—the bond between family members, the occult trust among siblings to always be there for one another no matter what? My parents seem to believe it to be the former, while I find myself trying to hold on to the latter for as long as I can before it slips through my fingers.

Does perfection even exist? And why do my parents, my mom especially, strive to achieve it?

I have a little brother named Asher whom I love very much. A small smile falls on my face as I twist the bracelet he made me at school around my wrist. I swore to him that I would never take it off, and till this day I haven't broken my promise. Even though it clashes with everything I wear. Unfortunately, he stayed at a friend's house last night so he won't be able to save me from the droning voice of my mom's or Kyle's condescending gaze. Mom and dad originally adopted me because they found me, they literally found me, in a meadow full of sunflowers, no return label, just in a baby pink bonnet and a sundress. But also because for the longest time the doctors told mom that she couldn't have a child. And that reigned true.

Until Asher came along.

I was seven when he was born, and I'm sixteen now. I remember feeling very worried back then that all the attention would fall on him, and be off of me. And while I was right to be concerned, I wouldn't trade it for the world. I'd rather play Asher's understudy every night if it meant at least being in the show with him. And although we don't share blood, he's family. He always will be.

I walk into my house through the side door which brings me directly into the kitchen. The perfection is almost nauseating with the satin gold chandelier dangling above the kitchen table, reflecting streaks of shadows on to the table with its crystals, the kitchen table cut out from the finest marble that I can see my own reflection like a mirror staring back at me; all around me against the walls are white drawers and cabinets, all without the slightest speck of dirt.

Don't get me wrong, I'm so appreciative of everything my family and I have and I consider myself extremely blessed to be living in such a luxurious setting. Yet I can't help but feel uneasy at the thought that while I'm eating delicious cuisine made by a chef, there's a little kid out there somewhere who is cold and hungry, and can't share the lifestyle I have. That's why I get myself involved in so many activist organizations.

I won't stop fighting until the world is a better place, a place where everyone is free to be who they are without fear of persecution, a world where everyone is treated equally, a world full of peace and void of torment.

Around the kitchen table, sitting with my dad in one of the light gray velvet chairs, is Kyle chatting with him. Their chairs are angled towards one another, and they are hunched with their bodies huddled fairly close together, talking in hurried, hushed whispers. They are speaking so briskly that I can only catch snippets of the conversation, all I manage to hear is the phrase "at all costs" and the word "protection."

Before I can lean in to garner more information, my dad sees me and his whole expression changes. His face lights up a bit more, and a small smile appears on his face. Still, his expression is guarded and entirely official, he never fully washes off the whole police commissioner facade, he wears the title of the job like armor, both at work and at home. My mom on the other hand is a dentist, so I have my shiny, white teeth to thank her for.

I go over and lean down to kiss him on the cheek, before moving on to Kyle who still looks deep in thought after his conversation with my dad. I wonder if I should ask him about it later, would he even tell me? He's always kept matters having to do with my dad secret from me, and I hate feeling like an outlier of their relationship, always outside looking in. But there's nothing I can do to stop it. You see, Kyle's dad is very wealthy, if my family's wealth is equivalent to a Chanel bag, their wealth is equivalent to that of a Gucci bag. Kyle's dad though, hasn't exactly obtained the money through entirely legal means. I don't know all the details of it, but apparently Kyle's dad donates a whole lot of money to the department and in return, my dad stays hushed about all of his illegal dealings.

In my opinion, no one is above the law so imagine my infuriation when my parents made me go and date his son, to "seal the deal." I was shipped off like some doll to the highest bidder, like a marionette whose strings are always being pulled and has no say in what she does. I feel so helpless sometimes, like I'm not in control of my life. But others have it worse, I remind myself, and it's my job to help correct that, which is why I was up all night Friday and all day Saturday making posters for the climate strike this week, I had to miss Elena and Ronnie's party sadly, but it was worth it.

I wrap my arms around Kyle's neck and nuzzle my face into his cheek, he turns his head and kisses me there, keeping it PG in front of my dad, I don't blame him, I'm sure he likes his eyes right where they are. "Babe, can you help me with all of my climate posters by the stairs? I need to hang them up all around school before first." I say, voice like honey.

I can see Kyle practically straining to avoid rolling his eyes. "I thought you held one of those last week?" He says, sharing a brief look with my father, which makes me wonder when they got so close, almost distracting me from his biting words. Almost.

"Yes babe, a women's rights march as well. And the week before that a black lives matter protest, both of which you couldn't attend since you were hanging out with friends, which means you have to come today. Pretty please?" I pout, jutting my bottom lip out, and batting my insanely long eyelashes.

"Fine." He breathes out.

"Yay!" I jump up and clap, while inwardly saying why does someone need incentive to fight for basic human rights and a better world? But I bite my tongue. "Let's go get the signs up, the earlier we do, the more people will show." I say, genuinely excited to see how the turnout will be. This time around we are marching on Lovebirds Bridge, one of the only enticing tourist attractions we have in this city.

He follows me begrudgingly down the hallway, dragging his feet with each step, while I can't contain my excitement.

***

My heels click on the floors of the school with each step making a steady rhythm. Kyle has got the majority of the posters in his hands and I've got the tape, scissors, stapler, and t-shirts I made for anyone who decides to go. I set them down on a hall manager's wooden table, before turning to look at Kyle. His eyes are trained on Brody, the school's quarterback which in this school, doesn't mean much.

"Hey Zoey..." he tears his eyes off him for a moment, "I've got to go talk to Brody about something, you mind starting without me? I'll be right back." He says, putting his arm around my waist and giving me a sorry glance. I know it's a lie and he isn't coming back but I smile anyway. It's my cause to fight for, and whoever doesn't want to fight with me, it's just their loss. I never get angry about it, because everyone is free to do what they want with their life, hence the term "free will."

I kiss him on the cheek. "Okay, thanks for helping me carry the posters, I can handle it from here." I say, and with that he turns and walks towards Brody, turning back once to give me a smile over his shoulder.

All of a sudden I hear a clatter of heels so loud and stampede-like, I have a sudden urge to run the other way, but I know who it is. "ZOEY!" I hear three girls squeal at once, before they each ceremonially kiss both of my cheeks, and rake their eyes over my outfit of the day.

"Super cute!" Layla says, with Farrah and Nancy nodding in agreement.

They fill me in on the latest gossip, about some girl whose nudes got leaked. They proceed to call her all sorts of names behind her back.

"I mean, what a slut, right?" Farrah asks, whipping her hair back.

"Right? I can't imagine being a whore." Nancy says, putting a hand on her hip.

I'll never understand why some girls feel the need to bring down other girls. Is girl power suddenly dead? In a world that's basically run by men, isn't it our job to uplift other women instead of bringing them down? So as always, I give the girl the benefit of the doubt. You're the only one that gets to live your own life, you decide what's real for you, you decide what to do with it. And if I've learned anything in high school, it's that the true story is always the least popular, and coincidently the least spread.

"We don't know how those photos got leaked, perhaps they were taken without her consent. Even so, those photos shouldn't be passed around, it's nobody's business but her own." I assert, trying to make my face look intimidating, but I probably failed.

They all burst out in laughter. Farrah and Layla hook their arms around my own, and they start telling me the latest story of a girl whose had her life ruined. I guess the posters will have to wait.

Emerson

How come things come to you in life so unexpectedly and then when you actually want them to happen, you get nothing?

I focus intently on my reflection in the mirror, trying to will my eyes to become gold again like they did a few days ago. I strain my face so much, it probably looks like I'm about to take a shit. I release a breath, and relax my shoulders, I look up again, and nothing. Absolutely nothing. Why is this so hard, why won't my eye color change?

Perhaps I need to become a wolf again, before my eye color can change. I've tried that too, and had even worse luck. I was in a burning fire when it happened, so if for some bizarre reason the transformation is situational, then all is lost because there is no way I'm putting myself in a situation like that again. I did learn two things, however.

One, transforming into a wolf, being a wolf, has never felt more freeing. Sure, it was confounding at first, but being in that form just felt...right. It felt as normal as walking, as natural as the change from winter to spring. It wasn't just the heightened senses, the closeness with nature, not even the steadiness that comes with being that close to the ground that it makes the act of falling seem almost impossible. No, it was the way the wind blew through my fur, how I felt like the rhythm beneath the earth and the rhythm of my heart beat as one, I felt so connected to the entire universe, and for some reason, felt like it was all connected to me as well.

Even if I never get to transform again, I'll never forget feeling that way.

And two, I need to confess my feelings to River soon. While in the fire, I worried about Blake and how our last exchange was harsh words which left us both feeling harangued. After losing Sam, I knew she wouldn't cope well with losing me too, but we made up shortly after at the cemetery. The more frightening thought however, was the cruel and crippling reality that I had yet to confess my feelings to River, and may never have. Even worse, I could have died living an entirely fake life, never allowing the world to know who I truly am. Merely an outsider, an intruder on my own life.

But I want to fully understand this all myself before dumping it all on him. That's why I got Blake to sneak into her dad's office and pull out the school records of the other five kids. She got their numbers and convinced them all to meet us at the abandoned railroad tracks where we wouldn't be overheard. All of them agreed, some more reluctantly then others. I just hope this all goes smoothly.

Blake

I'm the last to arrive. But that's no surprise, along with my reluctance of showing up, and my habit of losing track of time, there was no way I'd be punctual.

They are all staring at me. Zoey and Veronica just look curious, Lana looks rather annoyed, Titus's face is just blank, and Mason is looking at the ground timidly, tugging on his shirt sleeve. Emerson gestures toward me, he's standing in the front of the group on one of the rails, teetering over the tiny ledge.

When I finally reach the platform, he gives me a brief one-arm hug before making eye contact and mind linking with me, "So what's the plan?"

"Excuse me?" I say, meeting him in the eyes as well.

"You know, how are we going to tell them everything?"

"You mean to tell me you don't have one?! Why did you make me call this meeting then?" I hiss.

"You usually make the plans..."

"Yeah, and what were you planning on doing?"

"Standing by your side, and looking pretty?" I just shake my head.

When we finally look back to the crowd, all of them have wary looks on their faces, even Titus has a bit of crease forming between his eyebrows. Ro is the first to speak up, "Are we interrupting something intimate between you two? Did you call us all the way here to watch you make out? I mean I'm down, but I don't know about these guys..."

I shake my head, and Emerson takes a step away from me. People are always assuming we are a couple, even when River is there. I don't know if it's the wiring in their hetero-normative brains that tells them when they see a guy and a girl who are emotionally close to one other, they must be in a relationship. What ever happened to platonic girl-guy relationships? We were only staring at each other like that to concentrate for the mind-link, but they don't know that.

"Hello," the petite girl with shiny black hair and glasses says getting our attention, "Hi, are you almost done wasting our time because I've got more important things to do." She says in a chipped voice.

Zoey gives a small nod, "Yes, I don't mean to be rude but I have a rally in an hour that I must be heading to soon."

Mason just looks around at all of us shyly but doesn't say a word, and Titus is back to giving us all smoldering looks through his glasses.

"This won't take long." Emerson assures. "We just have something to tell you all."

"Well get on with it." Titus says speaking for the first time through clenched teeth, and blacked out shades on his eyes.

This dude is really getting on my nerves, maybe I should have called the cops on him that day then he wouldn't be so smug, perhaps if I—

"Blake?" Emerson says reprimandingly.

"Yes, Emerson?" I say trying to keep the annoyance out of my voice.

"Please let it go. I want this to go well." I look over at his pleading eyes, shoot Titus one last glare, and nod.

"So, Blake and I need to tell you all something. But before we do, I think it would be best if we all introduced ourselves, so we're no longer strangers." Emerson suggests, looking at me momentarily for approval, for which I smile at him and give a small nod.

He continues, "I'm Emerson," he says putting a hand to his chest, before gesturing over to me, "and next to me is my best friend..." He enunciates to clarify the previous mishap.

"Blake." I finish for him, crossing my arms over my chest.

The drunk girl from the party is next to speak up, she has tan skin, caramel brown hair in a ponytail with stray curls framing her face, with a wild look in her eyes. "My name's Veronica, but everyone calls me Ronnie. And if you call me Veronica, I will fight you." She says with a crooked smile and a hand on her hip.

Next to her, also in the front of the group, Zoey introduces herself in that same appealing voice that has hints of a faded Southern accent. "Well it's nice to meet you all, even if I'm not entirely sure why I'm here. My name is Zoey and I'm—"

"I think we all know who you are." I say, matter-of-factly and not kindly. Emerson jabs a finger discreetly at my ribs to shut me up once more.

I see something dark flash in Zoey's eyes but it's gone as quickly as it came. "I was going to say, that I'm pleased to make your acquaintance." I mean seriously, who even talks like that anymore?

We are going in this weird zig-zag order, so everybody's eyes land on Mason, who has yet to say anything. I think he must be quite shy and timid, judging by his unsure stance, and his face is cast downward so his silvery-white locks are dipping into his eyes. I wonder if his hair color is genetic like my eyes. Without looking up he says in a small, slightly shaky voice, "I-I'm M-Mason."

Everyone's quiet for a moment, I wonder what's going on in all of their heads. "Well it's nice to meet you Mason." And Emerson's head swivels towards me in surprise, I guess shocked by my sudden outburst of compassion.

Soon everyone's eyes are peeled away from Mason and onto Titus, he's got an inch or two over Emerson, and even though I can't see his eyes through this sunglasses, I can tell he's probably glaring at all of us. "Titus." He says, without another word.

That leaves one last girl left. I notice her as the girl who tried to pick a fight with us at the party because Emerson punched the guy who almost assaulted Ronnie. She's short, even shorter than me and that's saying something, with milky white skin. "I'm Lana Wang, and I would like to know immediately why you have dragged me here this instant."

Emerson raises an eyebrow, "Well now that we are no longer strangers—"

"We're still strangers." Lana interjects.

I glare in Lana's direction and she shuts up immediately. Forget necromancy, maybe my superpower is getting know-it-alls to finally shut their mouths. Emerson gives me a small, appreciative smile before continuing.

"Okay, I'm going to tell you something and before you freak out, know that Blake and I are here to help you and that we can figure this all out together." This seems to grab their attention. "Well, there's no easier way to say this. We're all wolves, and we kind of...not kind of...we have to save the world." Emerson says, wincing through each word, trying to seem as authoritative as possible, but failing.

We wait one moment, then another. And then another. Before Ronnie bursts into laughter, even Zoey joins in with some nervous laughter.

I roll my eyes. "Guys, this is serious. He's not joking."

Lana looks annoyed. "That notion defies all scientific thought. It's simply impossible. I don't know what sort of fables you've been reading and why you felt the need to drag me into this but—"

I tune out the rest of what she says and turn my head. Emerson looks defeated, like a balloon whose air has been let out, deflated. I need to save this for him. So I bring out my reasoning skills. "Have any of you noticed anything weird happen to you? Something out of the ordinary that you can't explain? That left you feeling disoriented and confused, like you couldn't explain what was happening, but it was?"

Emerson pipes up at this. "I was playing a tennis game a few days ago and my reflexes were lightening quick, I was hitting balls so fast, that not a single one of my opponents was able to hit one back." Lana still looks skeptical, Zoey just looks worried for us, but Ronnie has gone silent and Titus's mouth is twitching a bit.

Ronnie tugs on her ponytail before pursing her lips. "Well...the other day I was late to school, and I only had fifteen minutes before the first bell. I was at someone—my uncle's house— and I had to get to school through the woods. I started running, and I can't explain it, but I had run through all those trees in under five minutes, it was surreal." Lana still doesn't look convinced, and Titus very slowly takes off his sunglasses.

His eyes are an amber brown, they've got dark circles under them though, and his eyelids are a bit pinkish, like he hasn't slept in a few days. "I controlled a woman's mind." At once, everyone becomes silent, even Lana shuts up. "I can't explain how, but it happened and it was crazy as fuck. Also, my eyes turned red the other day."

Emerson's eyes widen and he blurts, "My eyes turned gold!" Like him and Titus are apart of some exclusive club.

"Congratulations." Titus deadpans, before he squints his eyes at Emerson suspiciously, then puts his shades back on his face. Zoey is chewing on her lip now, and Mason is tugging on his shirt sleeve so hard that I'm sure it will rip off very soon. Lana looks pissed off now.

Lana stomps to the front of the group and gestures wildly. "Are you all crazy? Are you all on drugs?" She turns to Titus, "You look like you sell drugs. Did you give them all something? I'll call the cops—"

"Don't call the cops. We can figure this out." Zoey says, chewing on the inside of her lip, staining her white teeth pink.

"You don't actually believe them." Lana says incredulously. We all turn to look at Zoey.

She looks around nervously, like she wishes the ground would swallow her up whole. She's fiddling with a weaved bracelet made out of yarn that I didn't notice before, and which looks so out of place from her usual put together outfits, that it stands out immediately. "Well, no, but..."

"The coin. Show them the coin, E." Emerson lifts the coin from under his t-shirt which is dangling on the chain, and slides the coin off of it. He throws the coin up in the air, and just like a few nights ago, it whizzes around all of us in a circle, stopping momentarily above all of our heads.

This seems to shut Zoey up, and even Lana looks a little horrified that it has happened again. Her expression soon resolves however, and she snarls, "So, you can do flimsy magic tricks. I don't see how that proves anything."

"It's no use." Emerson laments, "They won't believe us until we show them concrete proof, or Lana will just sway them away."

"Wait, that's it. E, the mind link!"

"What do you mean?"

"If we speak to them through the mind link, they'll have to believe us. What's more concrete than hearing someone else's voice in your head?"

"But we've only mind-linked with each other. I don't know if we can speak to more than one person at a time."

"Only one way to find out." And just like that the light is back in his eyes, I nudge my shoulder with his urging him to go on.

We turn back to all of them, Lana is still trying to convince everyone that all the stuff we've said is a hoax. Emerson takes a deep breath, and tries to concentrate. His shoulders are tense, and a rough crease has formed between his eyebrows, if I didn't know any better I'd think he was constipated. He sighs in frustration.

"I can't do it."

"Yes, you can."

"How are you so sure?"

"Because I know you, Emerson. That nagging voice in your head is telling you that you can't do this, but you can, okay? You can do anything you set your mind to. You're the Alpha of this pack. Lead your people, E."

He turns away from me, with a newfound determination in his eyes. He looks towards the group, and closes his eyes, he takes a deep breath, and then I hear it, and by the looks of all the shocked faces, so do they.

"We are wolves. Every single one of us. I understand this is hard to wrap your minds around, and it will take time to get adjusted to, but we're not human, we're special. We're a pack, and we can't come together until all of you believe, and say you're on board."

Emerson opens his eyes and everyone is silent. Lana's mouth is wide open, and the ever emotionless Titus actually looks stunned. If I wasn't so proud of Emerson and didn't want to ruin his moment, I'd taunt him. Mason has looked up at all of us now, his doe eyes are wide and he's stopped tugging at his sleeve. Ronnie has a small smile on her face, the wild glint returning to her eyes, and Zoey's eyebrows are raised but she looks hopeful.

"So, are you guys in?" I ask.

Simultaneously, everyone nods. Emerson looks at me, and there's no mistaking it, he's grinning like he's just won the biggest prize of his life.

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Sorry for the delay, writer's block is insufferable. What do you think of Zoey? Of her family? Do you think the group will finally be able to come together? Thanks for reading, make sure to like, comment, and leave a review! Stay golden:)

~Fallen Rose🥀