Intertwined. Gena Showalter

tests, making truces and friends—he’d forgotten about the T-shirt. “Thanks.”

      “Why don’t you beat feet and join your friend S-Stutter.” It was a command, not a question. “Mary Ann and I have things to discuss.”

      Message received. He and Tucker would not be friends. That was fine with him. Only person he cared about right now was Mary Ann. Well, and Vision Girl, but she wasn’t here. Where was she? What was she doing?

      “See you around, Mary Ann,” he said.

      She smiled, and it was warm and genuine. “I’ll meet you here in the morning and show you around.”

      A muscle ticked under Tucker’s eye. “I’m sure he’s busy. Isn’t that right, Crazy?”

      Aden knew his next words would define the type of hate-filled relationship he and Tucker would have. If he agreed, Tucker would feel superior, assume Aden was properly intimidated and taunt him for his weakness. If he didn’t, Tucker would view him as a competitor for Mary Ann’s attention and attack every chance he got.

      He couldn’t afford another enemy, but he raised his chin, refusing to back down. “I’m not busy at all. I’ll see you in the morning, Mary Ann.” He nodded to them both and ambled away as if he hadn’t a care.

      MARY ANN WALKED TUCKER to the football field for practice, calmly but firmly explaining that calling people names like “Crazy” and “Stutter” was how they developed complexes and why they later needed therapy.

      “You should thank me for the future business, since you want to be a shrink,” he said, rounding on her.

      She was so shocked by his response, she stood with her mouth hanging open. He’d never talked to her so sarcastically.

      His eyes narrowed. “Well, I’m waiting.”

      “Waiting for what?”

      “First, for that thank-you I mentioned. Then you need to tell me you won’t see that guy again. I don’t like him and I don’t like the way he was looking at you. And if he ever does it again, I will knock his teeth right out of his mouth.”

      The menace radiating off him was like needle pricks in her skin. She actually found herself backing up. What was wrong with him? Why was he acting this way? “You’ll stay away from him, Tucker. Do you hear me? I don’t want you hurting him. And just so you know, I’ll be friends with whoever I want. If you don’t like it, you can … we can … “

      “You are not breaking up with me,” he growled, crossing his arms over his chest. “I won’t allow it.”

      That hadn’t been on her mind, but she suddenly found herself contemplating the idea. The Tucker standing in front of her was not the Tucker she knew. This Tucker wasn’t making her feel pretty or special; this Tucker, with his scowl and his threats, was alarming her.

      This was the Tucker who had somehow helped throw a snake at Shannon—which she still needed to question him about. This was someone who had laughed at another person’s fear. This was a Tucker she didn’t like.

      “You can’t stop me if that’s what I decide,” she said.

      To her surprise, his expression immediately softened. “You’re right. I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have butted in like that. I just want you safe. Can you blame me for that?” Oh, so gently, he reached out and traced a fingertip along her cheek.

      She moved away from his touch. “Look, I—” she began, but one of the football players called for his help.

      Oblivious to the tension still rolling through her, Tucker kissed the cheek he’d just caressed. “We’ll talk tomorrow, all right?” He didn’t wait for her reply but rushed off.

      Reeling, she turned and headed toward the parking lot. What was she going to do with that boy? The way he’d treated Shannon and then Aden, and then callously excused his behavior … the way he’d expected her to thank him … she ground her teeth together. Yeah, he’d apologized. But had he meant it?

      Penny’s Mustang whipped around the corner just as Mary Ann stepped from the curb. There went her ride. She could call her dad and wait for him to come get her. She could walk home alone—and perhaps be a tasty bit of wolf bait—or she could chase Aden down.

      “Aden,” she called as she rushed forward. She couldn’t see him, but she knew he couldn’t have gotten far.

      The sleek black wolf, taller than she remembered, bigger than she remembered, jumped out in front of her the moment she passed the line of trees that blocked off the school. She screamed, hand fluttering over her heart.

      He gave an irritated growl, his green eyes bright. Settle down. I won’t hurt you.

      The word yet hung in the air, unsaid but palpable.

      Though the voice came from in front of her, she whipped around, expecting to see someone behind her. But no, she and the wolf were alone. “Who said that?” The words trembled from her.

      As I happen to be the only one around, I think you’re safe in assuming that I did.

      This time, the words came from behind her. Once more, she faced the wolf. No one was standing beside him. “This isn’t funny,” she said, a little more substance to the words now. Her gaze tripped left, right. Breath sawed in and out of her throat. Hot. Too hot, burning. “Who’s there?”

      I love being ignored, I really do. Look, I’m big, I’m black. I’m right in front of you.

      She scanned the bright emerald foliage around her. There was no sign of life. “I told you. This isn’t funny.”

      You’re wasting time searching for someone else, little girl.

      Again her attention fell to the wolf and she laughed without humor. “You can’t be talking to me. You just can’t. You’re a … you are … you’re not human.”

      Smart of you to notice. You’re right about the other thing, too. I’m not talking. Out loud.

      No, he wasn’t. His harsh voice was echoing inside her mind, she realized, dazed. “This is ridiculous. Impossible.”

      One day you’ll laugh about what you just said, because baby, I’m about to open your eyes to a whole new world. Werewolves are just the beginning.

      “Shut up!” Mary Ann rubbed her temples. More than ridiculous, this was insane. Utterly insane. Or rather, she was insane. This had to be a hallucination. Nothing else explained it. A wolf—or rather, a werewolf—who had walked her to school and clearly waited for her. A werewolf who was speaking directly into her mind.

      What would her father say?

      She thought she knew the answer. That she’d been working too hard, not resting enough, never enjoying herself, and this was her mind’s way of taking a vacation. He’d tried to warn her this morning, in fact.

      What if, now that she’d fallen over the edge, she needed medication? The thought scared her, and she laughed without humor. She didn’t want this kind of breakdown in her medical files; most likely, it would haunt her for the rest of her life, ruining her chances of landing the internship she wanted. Who would trust her to handle their problems when she couldn’t handle her own?

      Bye-bye fifteen-year plan.

      But maybe, just maybe, this is real, she told herself, part of her clinging to the hope. There was only one way to find out.

      Mary Ann inched forward and stopped before she bumped into the creature’s nose. “There’s a difference between a wolf and a werewolf?” she babbled to break the silence. Do it. Just do it. Gulping, she lifted her arm.

       Of course there is. One is merely an animal, the other is capable of being a man. Now, what are you doing?

      Though she’d expected him to speak this time,