Secrets and fries
Gabrielle POV
The walk home should feel familiar.
It doesn’t.
A few minutes ago I was laughing with Tess, now the sound feels like it belongs to someone else. The air hums faintly, the same way it did back near the trees, and no matter how hard I try to shake it off, my skin still feels too tight.
“You’re quiet,” Tessa says, bumping her shoulder into mine. “That’s never a good sign.”
“I’m fine,” I lie automatically.
She scoffs, “You’ve said that three times already. Statistically, that means you’re spiralling. Or... ” she grins, wicked and unapologetic, “Daydreaming about the hunky tree stalker.”
I huff a weak laugh, “I’m just… tired.”
She studies me for a beat, then her expression softens. “Okay. Then we’re getting fries.”
“What?”
“Birthday rule,” she declares. “Emotional distress requires fries.”
Before I can argue, she’s already steering us toward Miller’s Diner – the neon sign buzzing faintly as dusk settles in.
Inside, it smells like coffee and sugar and something frying. We slide into a booth by the window.
“SURPRISE!!”
“What the!?” I start as balloons, gifts, familiar faces and pack-mates surround me. “Tess, I can’t believe you managed to keep a secret from me!”
“Rude. I’m excellent at secrets. I just choose not to keep them.” She retorts as everyone wraps me in a hug.
There are more people than I expected. A few girls from school. A couple of pack kids I vaguely recognise; friends-of-friends, the kind you nod at in the halls but never really talk to. Mara slides in too, shrugging off her jacket.
Music thrums softly from someone’s speaker. The smell of cake wafts through the air.
It almost feels normal, but the hum under my skin hasn’t gone away.
For a brief moment everything is as it always is. I laugh. Eat cake. Open gifts. Someone insists on photos and my cheeks hurt from smiling. Too many people to count tell me eighteen is when everything changes, and I smile politely even as something tightens in my chest, knowing the wolf rules don’t apply to the likes of me.
Tess even manages to go a whole five minutes before launching into sickening levels of description of our mystery man in the woods.
“Drop. Dead. Gorgeous. Only way to describe him,” she insists as she exaggeratedly fans herself.
Then the bell over the door jingles.
Connor walks in.
Of course he does. My shoulders tense before I can stop them.
“Speaking of drop dead – if only...” Tess mutters.
He spots us instantly and heads over, hands shoved casually into his pockets like this is the most natural thing in the world.
“Well,” he says, grinning. “Didn’t expect to see you here.”
“You weren’t expected at all,” Tessa replies sweetly.
Connor ignores her.
His gaze settles on me. “Heard it’s your birthday.”
“Congratulations,” I say flatly.
His smile widens. “Something’s different about you,” he says slowly.
His eyes narrow.
“You look…” He trails off, lips pressing together, “Never mind.”
“And you’re tragically the same,” Tessa snaps.
Connor smirks, lifting his hands in mock surrender. “Relax. I’m just saying. Eighteen is a special birthday, at least for the better race.”
Of course, I knew the sickly sweet act was just a facade.
“Invite only ass-face,” Tessa growls.
His eyes linger a second too long before he steps back.
“See you around, Gabrielle.”
The way he says my name makes my stomach twist.
When he finally leaves, Tessa exhales loudly.
“I swear, if I ever murder someone– ”
“ – I’ll help hide the body,” I finish.
She grins. “That’s the spirit.”
Mara stiffens and grabs her bag. "That's my cue to leave and pretend I didn't hear that." She flaps
"Can't have the council thinking I am accessory to murder."
She's gone before either of us can respond.
----
It’s late when I finally reach home.
Charlie’s there with his usual tired smile, and jacket slung over one arm. “There’s my birthday girl.”
I step into the kitchen and hug him. He smells like sawdust and aftershave.
“Happy eighteen, kiddo.”
“Thanks, Dad.”
Charlie pulls a small cake box from the counter. “I saved you a slice. Tess said you’d forget to eat.”
“I didn’t forget,” I say. “I was distracted.”
He raises a brow but doesn’t push. He never does.
After cake and small talk and him reminding me again, that I’m officially an adult now, I head upstairs. The house settles around me the way it always does. Familiar. Safe.
And yet…
In my room, the sensation returns.
I sit on the edge of my bed and tug off my shoes, suddenly exhausted in a way that feels bone-deep.
I slip the necklace over my fingers, rubbing the worn symbol the way I always have. It steadies me.
“Just a weird day,” I murmur.
I curl onto my side, pulling the blanket tight. The hum is louder now. Not around me – inside me?
My pendant holds a quiet warmth.
I don’t fight the pull.
I let sleep take me.
And somewhere beyond the dark, someone, is waiting.