Chapter 36
No. No. No. I slide up out of bed, dig through a drawer and throw on one of Stark’s oversized T-shirts, which falls to my knees.
The entire house is dark as I check the rest of the rooms and pull open the glass to the back deck.
My legs fire in heat. He took off. What if he’s going to get the Elders?
I take a seat on the worn wooden steps. I guess I’ll wait. Maybe he went for a run.
I watch the sun rise as the sky turns pink and fades to blue. Spring air fills my nose, and birds chirp away in the trees.
The door slides open behind me, and I twist to see Jocko coming out.
“Where’s Stark? We were supposed to go together this morning.” He’s dressed in a light-green shirt and black joggers.
“He left early. I’m sure he’ll meet you wherever you were going.”
“Know why?”
“No.” I rub my swollen eyes.
“Aloka, he’s like family, so now you are too. If I need to beat his head in for being an idiot, you tell me, okay?”
“Family? Why do you stay?” I ask.
He rubs his face. “Stark is the only family I got. The humans took my parents a few years ago.”
“I’m sorry,” I say.
Sad eyes look back at me. “We’re a good trio of lone wolves.”
We are. Not that Jocko thinks I’m a wolf . . .
Soon after Jocko walks away, a truck starts on the other side of the house. The tires crunch over the gravel as it rolls down the driveway. I’m alone, for the first time in so long. I should be excited, yet he didn’t even ask me. He abandoned me.
With nothing else to do, I dye my hair, the sad, brown roots reflecting in the mirror when I’m done. I feel the need to go somewhere else, so I crawl onto the huge chair in Stark’s room and flip open Scarlett’s diary.
By dinner, I finish two read-throughs of the diary. Stark still hasn’t come to see me, but I know he’s in the house. I heard him talking with Jocko out in the hall.
I find my way into the main space, and see that the original regulars are here—Hudry, Otis, Faira, Graden, Mitus, and Kiya.
I glance at Stark as he stirs something on the stove, but he doesn’t look up.
Jocko eyes the two of us and shrugs. I guess he didn’t tell him anything either. That’s probably a good thing.
I take my seat next to Graden across from where Stark sits and fill my plate.
“So, boys, and Kiya, tell us—how did today go?” Otis smiles at the table.
“No luck. A few pack members were just confused when I knocked on a door asking if they’d seen a strange-colored wolf,” Jocko says.
Kiya scoops rice onto her plate. “It’s hard not to raise panic. The Roland family looked at Mitus and I like we were talking about ghosts.”
“I could see that being a problem. No one in the pack has ever seen a red wolf. Before this month, I haven’t heard the myths brought up in years,” Graden says.
“I have to say, I can’t remember all the different stories we were told about them when we were younger,” Otis says.
“I might have a book somewhere,” says Graden.
Otis looks down the table. “What about you, Stark?”
“I had no luck. I canvased a lot of the lesser-used roads.”
Want to tell me why you left in the middle of the night?
His eyes flare to me. I’m not wearing a hat or hood anymore either.
“We’ll keep searching,” says Hudry with a smile. “I’d love to meet them. Looked almost as big as Stark.”
“I don’t think you want to do that alone.” Graden looks at him.
He shrinks back. “Yes, sir. I’ll be sure to follow orders.”
“Now, Stark, I was going to ask. You have a large book collection; do you have any historical options revolving about legends or myths? I’d like to see what I can learn about the tellings of the red wolf.
” Graden looks at him with hope, like a book might hold all the answers.
I’ve read them and all they’re going to do is give them more reasons to want to follow history, which ends up with me dead.
“No.”
No? I question him.
His giant box of special history books must count.
“No,” he repeats. “Nothing with myths.”
“That’s okay. Keep an eye out for me?”
Stark nods and eats the rest of the meal in silence.
When we’re done, I know what I need to do.
I grab plates and start cleaning up, while Hudry comes up with wild stories about the possibilities of red wolves. I start laughing at his rainbow wolf theory. It’s nice that someone is excited instead of intimidated. The younger generation hasn’t inherited the hatred of those before them.
Stark carries a few plates over to the sink.
I stop rinsing the one in my hand. “I want . . .” I start, but my words dry up in my throat.
“What?” His jaw shifts; he sounds on edge.
I swallow and try again. “I’d like to go on a date.”
“Fine. Give me a few days.”
“Okay.” I turn the water back on.
Well, he didn’t say no.