Chapter 7

The sun reaches into the sky over the lower lake, shimmering in the water and chasing the morning fog away. Harvey and I walk down the main street sidewalk in the direction of the laboratory. My mom sent us on a task to retrieve three cases of water bottles, but luckily, the laboratory is only two blocks away.

I know my mom has been shoving Harvey and me together whenever she can — maybe she's worried I'll end up a spinster — but when she assigned this particular favor, it didn't seem to be about my love life. I think she knew I wouldn't be able to carry all three cases by myself. Her head is scrambled by the Festival, and these waters are for working volunteers, so I'm happy to help. Besides, Harvey being here isn't a bad thing either. The awkwardness I felt at the Society dinner is clearing the more we talk.

Thankfully, Harvey is easy to talk to.

"Did you go to Black Lake High, then?"

"No, the charter school."

Where Abby went. "My mom looked into it for my younger siblings, but she said every year there's no available spaces. I went on their website, though, and it looks nice. Is it fancier than the high school?"

"When I went, it wasn't fancier or anything like that, just smaller than the high school. The charter school — Westwind — has more active classes. We were often going outside whether it was for science or art or reading," Harvey explains.

"That sounds nice. I probably would have liked it better than Black Lake High."

"How come?"

I smile and wave it off. "You know, typical high-school stuff; it's just a hard time."

"It is," he murmurs.

We cross the street when we come up to the Laboratory. Most of the spots in the lot are filled with people parking wherever they can to access the festival. The museum is closed for the event, anyway. My mom gave me her keys, so I unlock the glass front doors and let both of us inside.

"Is it strange having your family on display like this?" I ask, referring to the photographs, historical blurbs, and artifacts Marianne has selected for the museum.

Harvey shakes his head, no. "I know Dr. Norwood had a great part in the establishment of the town. I wouldn't have everything I do without him, so who I am to keep his history private? He was a good man."

"Actually, there isn't a lot of personal history; it's mostly about the Lab, his life as a doctor, and his tuberculosis treatments. The Norwood family is kind of a mystery besides the fact that they lived in Norwood House."

"I don't think people would be interested in the family. Dr. Norwood is its only significant member."

I shrug. "You'd be surprised. Anyway, the water bottles are in the back room."

Harvey follows me to the society room where the cases are stacked next to the meeting table. I pick up one, and Harvey takes the next two. "You got it?" He asks.

I carry it with my fingers looped inside the plastic, where there are holes. "Yeah, I'm fine. Are you?"

"If that gets too heavy, I can take yours."

"Now you're just showing off," I tease and lead the way back through the museum. I set my case down momentarily to lock the laboratory doors, and then we're off along the street again, the water bottles squeaking and the plastic crinkling with every step.

"Even though your family hasn't been here as long as others, would you want to stay?" He asks. "Or is there somewhere else you want to live?"

"Hm." I adjust my hold. "I love Black Lake. If I moved anywhere else, it would have to be pretty similar to this."

"You prefer small towns?"

I nod. "Yeah."

"And the weather? Most people complain about the rain and cold."

"I've always liked rain. And cold weather means coats and scarves and mittens — I like all that too."

Harvey smiles, his eyes squinting in the sun. "Is there anything you don't like about Black Lake?"

I face forward, thinking immediately about sophomore year when Abby left me, but now she isn't so elusive. We're talking again. Then the thing I saw in the woods pricks my thoughts like a thorn. "I don't think so. Maybe the raccoons, you know, when they go in the garbage and make a mess, but when they're strolling around at night they're pretty cute."

"Racoons," he considers. "What about the thunderstorms?"

"Oh, I love those."

"Of course you do."

"Well, it's nice to be warm and safe inside while everything is stormy outside. It's perfect movie weather."

We stop at the curb when a car turns onto the main road from a side street. I catch Harvey watching me, so I quickly ask, "Is there anything you don't like about Black Lake?"

There's a moment of silence as he thinks, but he eventually decides, "The woods."

"Oh? Really?" My heart squeezes. "But you said you like outdoorsy stuff."

We cross the street, and he says, "The forest can be dangerous. You have to be careful."

My chest grows tight.

"You know what they say about the ocean? That it doesn't doesn't care about you — whether your boat stays afloat or whether you drown — it simply is how it is, regardless. The forest is like that."

"Did...something happen?"

Harvey shakes his head, nearly amused. "I love the Adirondacks and hate them at the same time, that's all."

"It's better than the Appalachians, I think. I'm always hearing creepy things about those."

"I think they're all the same."

Has Harvey seen something in these woods too? My story about the yellow-eyed shadow beast crawls up my throat, eager to be told again, but we near the festival, so I decide I better not tell him. He might think I'm crazy.

Harvey and I bring the water bottles to my mom, and she starts tearing them open. We wander some steps away as volunteers come to collect their drinks.

"Well, I better get to the candy apple booth," I say. "Are you staying?"

Harvey's attention snags on something or someone across the street where the storefronts are. I try to see what's so interesting, but he suddenly turns to me. "I have to get back to the house. There are some deliveries coming today."

"For your restorations?"

He nods. "But now that I'm a part of the Society, I'm sure I'll see you around, right? At the Lab? Dinners?"

Disappointed, I stretch a grin. "Yeah, probably. I-I'll see you later."

I stand in the middle of the path as he walks off, as townies move around me and the festival ramps up. I feel like I'll rarely see Harvey now. He's a part of the Society, but I'm not. He'll be at the meetings and dinners, but I won't be, not unless my mom is hosting again.

I wander to the candy apple booth and prepare all the ingredients and toppings slowly. Luckily, no one is hankering for a candy apple breakfast.

After some time, my mom stops by. "How's it going over here? People heading your way?" She asks.

"A couple. It's still a little early, though."

She bends to get a better look at my face. "Something wrong? Did Harvey—"

"I wish you would stop playing matchmaker."

"Matchmaker? I just thought Harvey was—"

My voice hardens. "It's embarrassing me, okay? I'm not his type or what he's looking for — we're friendly, that's all. I'm not..." I want to say I'm not pretty enough or exciting enough, but that will only make her protest. "Just, stop, please?"

"I'm sorry, Honey. I didn't think you would be hurt by it, but I'll stop. No more, okay?"

"Yeah, okay. Thanks."

She sighs. "I worry about you, that's all."

"You worry because I'm single?"

"No, that you're lonely. You go to work, do school online, but you never go out or hang around with anybody."

"I just saw Abby."

"Great." Her tone is doubtful.

"She was nice to me. We talked. She seems sorry about what happened."

"She seems sorry, or she was sorry?"

Two girls around ten or eleven approach the booth next to my mom with bills in their hands. My mom moves aside. "We'll talk later." She then tells the kids, "You girls have fun. There's plenty to do, lots of games and prizes."

I take their orders as my mom vanishes to her next duty. One caramel apple with rainbow sprinkles, and one white chocolate apple with cookie crumbles. I hand the candy apples over and the girls hurry to the next attraction. Abby appears out of nowhere.

I jump when I see her behind me, on the side of the booth not meant for pedestrians. "Christ," I blurt.

"Sorry."

She's alone. "Where's Liam?"

Abby moves closer. "I didn't mean to scare you, but we should talk...again."

"Again? Now?"

"For real this time. I mean it."

"Well," I glance and see no customers, only the growing chaos beyond, "I can't leave the booth. I'm the only one here."

"It's about what happened between us. I'm ready to talk about it," she says, sounding too eager, or maybe too nervous. "I thought I could do it before, but I chickened out. I won't this time."

I grab her shoulders to steady her subtle shaking. "You don't have to, okay? Don't force yourself."

"I'm not. I've wanted to tell you for so long, I just don't know how you're going to take it."

"Is it bad?"

"It's weird — strange." She slides my hands off her shoulders but keeps a hold of them.

"It's always like that between us, right?" I say lightly so she doesn't have to worry, but by the strength of her grip, I know she still is.

She quiets just so I can hear: "All the magical junk we fantasized about — not all of it is made up. I live in a fantastical world. Everyone does; they just don't know it."

I inch closer to check for alcohol on her breath.

"Are you hearing me?" She questions.

I nod. "I am, but I'm confused. What are you talking about? Delusions?"

"No, I'm not delusional, and neither are you despite seeing what you saw. I'm telling you it's real. What you saw was actually there, and it's just the tip of the iceberg."

"Then what did I see?" I stare at her dead-on, desperate for a real answer.

She doesn't stutter. "A wolf. You saw an Alpha wolf, and not like the regular kind." She sighs, and I can practically see her swinging a wrecking ball at her walls. "When I turned sixteen, I changed, and not for the better. I forced myself to cut you off...to keep you away from all of it."

"Away from what? Changed how?"

Abby looks around after my sudden spike in volume to ensure no passerby or volunteer is eavesdropping. She then grabs my wrist and pulls me to the open end of the booth.

"Sorry. I'll be more careful."

"I could get in a lot of trouble for telling you this," she ponders melancholically while staring out at the festival but at nothing in particular. She lets go.

"In trouble with who?"

"Mia, promise me you won't tell a soul what I'm about to say — under no circumstances can there be an exception — okay?"

I swallow. "You can tell me anything. I'll keep it to myself."

"Promise?"

"I promise."

"In my family, when a child turns sixteen, they change physically because of something passed down — like a gene. My mother has it, and my father had it, and their parents before them. I can be in the form you see me now and also another; a wolf similar to the one you saw in the woods."

With nothing to hold, I shove my hands in my coat pockets, unsure of what to say or even think.

"I believed you when you told me you saw a monster in the woods. Now I need you to believe me."

I immediately doubt her, and I can't control it. A mix of pity and worry whirl in my gut. "Abby..."

She groans. "Goddess, I knew this was gonna happen. Look, I know it sounds stupid, okay? It does. I get that. But I can prove it."

"You don't need to...do that. I-I want to believe you. I liked when we were younger — when we would play at Moody Pond and—"

"But this isn't a game, Mia. It's not make-believe."

I hold my breath and glance around as my arms cross. "I-I don't know what to say." My arms break apart. "How I am supposed to... Just — just tell me right now if this is a joke or not because if it is, I swear I—"

Abby grabs my arm, standing close enough for me to see the determination in her brown eyes. "It's real, everything I'm saying. All you have to do is trust me enough to follow me into the forest behind the café so I can show you."

"Behind Blue Moon, you're going to change into a wolf?"

Abby nods.

"Alright," I breathe. "I would go with you. I know you really want to go, but I can't leave the festival."

She starts to pull me from the booth and towards the street.

"Abby, seriously, I can't leave the booth."

I plant my feet on the ground, causing her to jerk backward. "This is infinitely more important than the festival," she argues. "Forget the candy apples!"

"It's not the candy apples, it's my mom. I'm doing this to help her out."

She comes close again. "And I'm doing this for you. Not me. Trust me, this could only hurt me."

"Then let's not do any of it."

Abby starts to pull me again by my arm. She holds onto me as we wait to cross the street, and I peer over my shoulder. "My mom is gonna be pissed, you know that."

"You'll be back before she finds out."

"Really?"

"I hope so."

I stop fighting and walk beside her, feeling like I'm in too deep to back out. My mom or Betsy or another society member may have already seen me missing. A kid could already be in the booth going buck wild with the chocolate dip and ladle.

Abby leads me around Blue Moon — I see Kiki working through the windows — but we go right around the building and across the small back parking lot. Leaves piled up around the lot's edges crunch under our feet as we cross into the forest. A strip of wood runs behind the main street stores and connects to the greater wood at the southern side of the town. We walk for a few minutes in silence this way, and I go back and forth in my mind trying to decide if I should cut my losses and run back.

"So what's supposed to happen?" I call to her. Her footsteps are more energized than mine. "You transform into a wolf and then what? You attack me?"

"I'm a werewolf but not that kind of werewolf. I'm not some cartoon monster; it's still my head, my choices."

"God, Abby, if my mom—"

"You're worried about your mom, getting in trouble, screwing up the festival, I know, trust me, I know." She turns to face me, halting. "I'll do it now so you can stop worrying."

"N-Now? Like right now?"

She shrugs her jacket off and wiggles out of her shoes. "Yeah. Usually, I take off all my clothes so they aren't ripped up, but I think getting naked will only make this weirder."

"Well, wait a second." My hands clench my hips, and I survey the surrounding wood. "If this is real, why are you telling me this now? Why not when we were sixteen? Or why not just never tell me?"

Abby exhales. Her lips press together in a line before she says, "Because Harvey is a werewolf too, and I don't want you to get involved in our shit. It isn't fun and fantastical; it's dark and scary and people get hurt."

"Harvey is one too?"

She nods.

"H-how do you know?"

"I just do, so please, let me make you believe me so when I tell you to stay away, you'll stay away."

I hesitate, unable to make a clear decision until one hopeful, childish word escapes me: "Okay."