Claire drew in a deep breath, stomped up to her room, and threw herself onto her bed. She stared up at the ceiling. The unfairness of her situation swirled around her like a fog, clouding her thoughts.
I could lie. Tell Matthew that he wasn't allowed to come after all and tell the pack that he got sick or something.
Claire wasn't above lying. She wasn't even uncomfortable with it anymore—not after months of living a life that was halftrue at best. But she knew that if her mother ever found out, there would be hell to pay, in a very literal sense. And of course, she'd never lied to Matthew. Not about anything that counted, at least, and deep down she knew she couldn't start now.
She rolled onto her stomach and pulled the pillows over her head. All she wanted was to keep Matthew home, where he belonged, far away from the dead-eyed gaze of the new moon. Monday morning, Claire stood at her locker, shoving the binders and books she needed into her bag.
A pair of familiar-smelling hands—freesia lotion and watercolor residue—snaked over Claire's shoulders and covered her eyes.
"Guess who."
"Hi, Emily." Claire spun around to face her. Emily's mouth was smiling, but there was something stiff and unhappy in her eyes.
"Wow. You sound cranky," Emily said. "And you never called me yesterday. What's the story with that, huh?"
Claire took a deep breath. True, she hadn't called Emily. But she'd been so worried about Matthew and the gathering, and then she'd gotten distracted with her homework—besides, she was the one who'd asked Emily to call her.
"Sorry," she said. "I was studying for my chem test."
Emily made a face. "Ew. Why? It's not until tomorrow. I thought maybe we could study together tonight."
With the gathering scheduled for late that night, there was no way Claire could make plans with Emily. Claire's mouth went dry as she searched for an excuse. "Um, I can't tonight. I have . . . Mom has a work thing, and I have to go help her with it."
It was such a thin lie that it was practically see-through.
A disbelieving crinkle appeared between Emily's eyebrows, and the little jingle that Claire's nerves had been playing all morning turned into a full-blown orchestral score. Today was not a day she could afford to screw up, and she was already making a mess of it. Lying practically counted as a werewolf ability.
She was failing before the gathering had even started. "You've been helping your mom an awful lot lately. Marie's never exactly been a TV-perfect sort of mother—why so much togetherness all of a sudden?" Emily asked.
Claire shrugged. "I think she wants me to follow in her footsteps or something. But you know I can't take pictures for crap. Can I come over on Wednesday?" she asked, changing the subject.
The crinkle disappeared, and Emily's eyes lit up. It made Claire feel so much better, seeing Emily so happy.
"Absolutely! Anything special you had in mind?"
"Yep." Claire nodded. "It's only a few weeks until the Autumn Ball. Since I've never been to a dance, I need to start thinking about a dress, and you know I'm no good at making these sort of decisions without you. I want to make a game plan before I start the misery of trying things on."
Emily let out a little squeak. "Yay! Of course!" She was practically bouncing. "You know, it's almost worth going with Randy—at least you and I will finally be at a dance together!"
The warning bell rang.
"I've got to get to history," Claire said. "See you at lunch?"
"Absolutely!" Emily turned and disappeared into the hurrying crowd.
Claire watched her go, dying for it to be Wednesday. For the gathering to be over and to be able to just do nothing with Emily.
As the day wore on, Claire got twitchier. Edgier. She tried to focus on the shopping websites Emily talked about at lunch, but she couldn't concentrate. She needed to think through everything she had to do one more time. How to light the fires. Transforming. Leading the hunt.
Werewolf 101.
At least she had the long-distance hearing. Not all wolves could do that, and it would probably impress Judith and Katherine. At least, a little bit.
She hoped.
Between classes, she looked for Matthew in the halls. She finally saw him ducking into physics, just before the bell rang. He flashed her a smile like sunlight, but she barely had time to return it before she dashed to Spanish. Disappointment rumbled through her. It was the last chance she'd have to see him before the gathering. She wished they'd been able to talk—it would have been nice to hear him say he was excited or proud or something.