drafty. Plus, every muscle in my body was crying for more sleep; it wasn’t like I had gotten a lot of rest with everything that had happened last night.
Not that I was in a hurry to tel Kyle about Jason and Trey—
especialy since it already seemed like he was in a bad mood.
“Did you at least cal your mom?”
Kyle shrugged. “I told her I’d be out late.”
I knew the rules were different for guys—less chance of them getting jumped at 3 a.m. and no chance of them getting knocked up in the back of a Honda—but I also knew Kyle’s mom stil worried, especialy after the werewolf attacks last spring. And I liked his mother. Unlike Jason’s parents, Kyle’s had always been realy nice to me.
“Cal her,” I insisted. “I’ve got to get dressed, anyway.” I headed to my room before he could argue. As comfortable as I was around Kyle, I drew the line at hanging out in my PJs.
Not that the sight of me in a tank top and boxers would have any effect on him. Kyle was only peripheraly aware that I was a girl. That was one reason we’d always be strictly platonic. Even if I wanted to go there—which I didn’t—Kyle didn’t seem to realize there was a “there” to go to.
Ten minutes later, I was fuly dressed with deodorant under my Ten minutes later, I was fuly dressed with deodorant under my arms and a freshly washed face.
“Cereal?” I asked.
Kyle nodded.
I moved around the kitchen, splitting the last of a box of Cheerios between two bowls and dousing each with a generous amount of milk as I tried to figure out how to tel Kyle about the new attack. “I saw Jason last night,” I ventured, cautiously, as I set the milk back in the fridge.
Kyle grunted.
I turned and passed him a bowl. “You’re stil not speaking?”
“Not so much.”
“It was an accident.” Last Saturday, Jason had gotten drunk and picked a fight. If Kyle hadn’t jumped in, Jason probably would have ended up in the ER. They hadn’t spoken since. I, of course, was stuck in the middle.
Kyle shrugged and walked over to the smal, two-seater breakfast table. “Scratching a CD is an accident. Dragging your best friend into a brawl against three varsity footbal players is practicaly manslaughter.”
“At least they weren’t linebackers,” I pointed out, taking the seat across from him.
“Why do you keep making excuses for him?” Kyle sounded tired. “It doesn’t help him, you know.”
I traced patterns in my cereal with my spoon. “I’m just trying to cut him some slack. It’s not like I’ve given him a permanent ‘get out of jail free’ card.”
“No. That’s what his father’s money is for.” It was hard to
“No. That’s what his father’s money is for.” It was hard to frown with a mouthful of Cheerios, but for the next few minutes, Kyle managed. Eventualy, he said, “It’s not like he was the only one who cared about Amy.”
“You know it’s different.” Suddenly, I wasn’t very hungry. I couldn’t think about Amy and do something as mundane as eat. I pressed my hands to my abdomen and focused on the faux wood grain of the tabletop, trying to quel the sick feeling I stil got whenever I talked about how Amy had died. “He saw her body.
Anyone would be messed up after that. Think about how you’d feel if a werewolf kiled Heather.”
Kyle’s spoon clanged to the floor and I looked up, startled. “I mean . . . if you and Heather were stil together,” I clarified, not entirely sure what I had said to freak him out.
And he was definitely freaked. In fact, Kyle looked like he had been sucker punched.
Before he could say anything, the front door opened and Tess slumped into the apartment.
“There’s coffee,” I said.
She shook her head. “Too tired,” she mumbled. “Just want my bed.” She tossed her jacket over the back of the couch, dropped the morning paper onto the kitchen table, and stumbled down the hal to her room.
I waited until I heard the noise from the smal TV Tess kept in
Not that I was in a hurry to tel Kyle about Jason and Trey—
especialy since it already seemed like he was in a bad mood.
“Did you at least cal your mom?”
Kyle shrugged. “I told her I’d be out late.”
I knew the rules were different for guys—less chance of them getting jumped at 3 a.m. and no chance of them getting knocked up in the back of a Honda—but I also knew Kyle’s mom stil worried, especialy after the werewolf attacks last spring. And I liked his mother. Unlike Jason’s parents, Kyle’s had always been realy nice to me.
“Cal her,” I insisted. “I’ve got to get dressed, anyway.” I headed to my room before he could argue. As comfortable as I was around Kyle, I drew the line at hanging out in my PJs.
Not that the sight of me in a tank top and boxers would have any effect on him. Kyle was only peripheraly aware that I was a girl. That was one reason we’d always be strictly platonic. Even if I wanted to go there—which I didn’t—Kyle didn’t seem to realize there was a “there” to go to.
Ten minutes later, I was fuly dressed with deodorant under my Ten minutes later, I was fuly dressed with deodorant under my arms and a freshly washed face.
“Cereal?” I asked.
Kyle nodded.
I moved around the kitchen, splitting the last of a box of Cheerios between two bowls and dousing each with a generous amount of milk as I tried to figure out how to tel Kyle about the new attack. “I saw Jason last night,” I ventured, cautiously, as I set the milk back in the fridge.
Kyle grunted.
I turned and passed him a bowl. “You’re stil not speaking?”
“Not so much.”
“It was an accident.” Last Saturday, Jason had gotten drunk and picked a fight. If Kyle hadn’t jumped in, Jason probably would have ended up in the ER. They hadn’t spoken since. I, of course, was stuck in the middle.
Kyle shrugged and walked over to the smal, two-seater breakfast table. “Scratching a CD is an accident. Dragging your best friend into a brawl against three varsity footbal players is practicaly manslaughter.”
“At least they weren’t linebackers,” I pointed out, taking the seat across from him.
“Why do you keep making excuses for him?” Kyle sounded tired. “It doesn’t help him, you know.”
I traced patterns in my cereal with my spoon. “I’m just trying to cut him some slack. It’s not like I’ve given him a permanent ‘get out of jail free’ card.”
“No. That’s what his father’s money is for.” It was hard to
“No. That’s what his father’s money is for.” It was hard to frown with a mouthful of Cheerios, but for the next few minutes, Kyle managed. Eventualy, he said, “It’s not like he was the only one who cared about Amy.”
“You know it’s different.” Suddenly, I wasn’t very hungry. I couldn’t think about Amy and do something as mundane as eat. I pressed my hands to my abdomen and focused on the faux wood grain of the tabletop, trying to quel the sick feeling I stil got whenever I talked about how Amy had died. “He saw her body.
Anyone would be messed up after that. Think about how you’d feel if a werewolf kiled Heather.”
Kyle’s spoon clanged to the floor and I looked up, startled. “I mean . . . if you and Heather were stil together,” I clarified, not entirely sure what I had said to freak him out.
And he was definitely freaked. In fact, Kyle looked like he had been sucker punched.
Before he could say anything, the front door opened and Tess slumped into the apartment.
“There’s coffee,” I said.
She shook her head. “Too tired,” she mumbled. “Just want my bed.” She tossed her jacket over the back of the couch, dropped the morning paper onto the kitchen table, and stumbled down the hal to her room.
I waited until I heard the noise from the smal TV Tess kept in
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