Riot Girls: Seven Books With Girls Who Don't Need A Hero Read online

  I devoured two slices while Lucy and Allison daintily nibbled on their first slices. Dan had taken one bite of his and left the rest abandoned on his plate. Creepier and creepier. After we were all apparently done eating, we sat for another excruciating hour, forcing me to witness Al and Lucy fawning over Dan the entire time, then we finally decided to head home. Lucy rode with Dan again with a promise to call me tomorrow.

  As soon as Allison dropped me off, I rushed inside to call Lucy, then realized that she might not be home yet, considering that maybe Dan didn’t speed like a maniac as Allison did, and decided to give her an extra fifteen minutes. I sat on the loveseat in my living room, drumming my fingers on a throw pillow in my lap, then after precisely 13.5 minutes I dialed Lucy’s number, letting it ring until the machine picked up. I hung up and waited another five minutes and called again.

  “Hello?” Lucy’s voice buzzed back at me.

  I let out a breath of relief. “Lucy? Are you okay? I shouldn’t have let you go alone with Dan. There’s something wrong with him. He said the weirdest thing to me . . . ”

  “Xoe,” she buzzed back, interrupting me, “something weird happened.”

  I paused, waiting for her to continue. The dread was back full swing. I switched the phone to my other hand so I could wipe the sweat off my palm on my jeans.

  Lucy continued, “Um, he walked me to the front door. Then he leaned towards me. I thought he was gonna kiss me, you know? Then I felt pain in my arm and realized . . . he scratched me.”

  Shocked, I questioned, “What? Like took his nails and raked you?”

  I heard Lucy sigh on the other end of the line. “Xoe, it’s gonna sound crazy, but, well, his hand looked different . . . kind of like he had claws.”

  A moment of stunned silence passed.

  “Claws?”

  “Yeah,” she said. “Or maybe it was just the dim lighting. I keep second guessing what I saw, but the proof is on my arm.”

  “Is this some kind of joke?” I was getting angry. I hated jokes like this. I’m the most skeptical person I know, so they never worked. All anyone ever succeeded in doing was making me mad. Though that didn’t explain why my heart was caught in my throat.

  “It’s not a joke Xoe,” Lucy replied, tears straining her voice.

  “Seriously?”

  “Seriously.”

  “Stay right there Lucy, I’m coming over,” I ordered.

  “No, y-you can’t, it’s fa-family dinner night, my parents will be home with food any minute.” Lucy replied, hiccupping on her words. “I d-don’t know what to do,” she continued. “I’m scared Xoe. W-what if he comes back?”

  I considered storming into her house anyway, but knew her parents would just send me back home. “Maybe you should call the cops and report the attack.”

  “And tell them what?” Lucy asked. “That m-my date scratched me, then politely went home?” She was getting louder as she spoke, edging on hysteria.

  I asked numbly, “He just . . . left?”

  “Yeah.” She had suddenly roped in her sobs, regaining some of her composure. The fact that she had broken down at all was unnerving. Lucy never broke down. “I just stood there like a moron and watched him go.”

  “What should we do?” I asked.

  “What can we do?” she replied. “I can’t call the cops, I can’t do anything. I don’t understand what’s going on.” Lucy paused and I heard voices in the background. “Ugh, my parents just got home, they want me to get off the phone . . . I have to go. Keep the phone near you okay? Just in case. I’ll come over in the morning.”

  “Have your mom drive you,” I ordered.

  “Okay.”

  I heard the phone click as she returned it to its cradle. I sat unmoving, except for drumming my fingers on the table . . . yeah, I could already tell that sleep would not come easy tonight.

  I paced back and forth across the living room. My thoughts were racing a million miles per minute. Lucy’s story should have been hard to believe, but for some reason I didn’t think she was imagining things. It explained the bad feeling I had about Dan, and all of his weird behavior . . . kind of.

  I went upstairs and tried to go to bed, but it was no use. I got up and sat at my desk, turning on my computer. Once it was on I stared at it, not really knowing what I had intended to do with it. Look up cases of people scratching other people? Somehow I didn’t think I would get much useful information from a search like that. I turned the computer back off and started pacing across my room. I hated inaction. I needed something proactive to do about the Dan situation, but I couldn’t think of a thing.

  I went back downstairs to the living room and turned on the TV. The volume blared and I hurried to turn it down before it woke up my mom. She had gone to bed early since she had to wake up at 6:00 am for an early hike with one of her friends. I started flipping through the channels and stopped on what looked like a relatively high-budget black-and-white horror movie on AMC.

  A woman was running terrified through the woods. She kept looking back at whatever was chasing her, like they always do in horror movies. The camera panned back to a man in tattered clothing, presumably the woman’s pursuer. He paused on a hilltop framed by the full moon and turned into a . . .

  My heart caught in my throat. It made sense, if I was willing to overlook the plausibility of it. All of Dan’s behavior: growling at Brian, cocking his head like a dog all of the time, saying he smelled me . . . scratching Lucy. Dan was a werewolf.

  I sat for a moment, stunned, then laughed at myself. A werewolf? Werewolves weren’t real. They were the stuff of myth and legend. I ruefully shook my head and switched off the TV. Sleep. Sleep was what I needed. I got up from the sofa in deep consternation, and made my way back upstairs. I laid down on my bed and stared at the ceiling. Dan couldn’t be a werewolf. He just couldn’t.

  What seemed like an eternity later, I finally dozed off. I dreamed that I was on fire, but not burning. Everything around me burned, my room, my house, and distantly I knew that my mom and my friends were burning too. I could hear their screams, but I just stood there watching the flames. A wolf howled.

  Chapter Six

  I WOKE TO knocking on my bedroom door. My t-shirt and boxers that substituted for pajamas were once again damp with sweat from my vivid dreams.

  “Xoe? It’s me, Lucy . . . your mom let me in,” a timid voice called from the other side of the door.

  I sprung from my bed and rushed to the door, stumbling over a book on the floor, still only half-awake. Did I mention I’m not a morning person? I opened the door to find Lucy. She was dressed down in a dark brown t-shirt, even darker suede jacket, worn jeans, and hiking boots. I faced her and tried to remain calm—that is until Lucy shrugged off her jacket to bare her upper arm.

  “He mutilated you!” I exclaimed, examining the scratches on her arm.

  “It’s not that bad,” she replied calmly, “but look at them, do they look like the work of human fingernails to you?”

  As a matter of fact, they didn’t. Four long, thin gashes marred her arm, deep enough to make me feel a little queasy at the sight. No, definitely not human fingernails. I gingerly touched the area around the scratches. Her skin was burning hot.

  I frowned. “Do you think you need stitches?”

  Lucy shook her head. “I thought about it, but what would I tell the doctor?”

  Good point. Lucy was trying to be calm, but her wide eyes gave her away. She was freaked. The dark circles under her eyes alluded to a sleepless night . . . I didn’t blame her. I wouldn’t have been able to sleep either. I nodded and stood aside for Lucy to come into my room.

  At the sound of footsteps, Lucy quickly shrugged back into her jacket. A few seconds later, my mom came around the corner from the stairway, dressed in a casual gauzy green dress and flip-flops.

  At the sight of Lucy, my mom’s face erupted into a smile that reached her warm brown eyes. “Have you had breakfast yet, Lucy?” she asked. “Our weekend b
reakfasts usually occur around noon, but we could make it a little earlier. It’s been a while since I’ve seen you.”

  “No thanks,” Lucy mumbled.

  Taking in our expressions, a look of concern flashed across my mom’s face. She pressed the back of her hand against Lucy’s forehead. “Are you feeling okay, Lucy?” she asked. “You feel a little warm.”

  Lucy looked down at the floor, muttering that she was fine.

  My mom looked back and forth between us, a frown creasing her brow. She reached up and felt my forehead. “You feel warm too honey, another dream?”

  “Um, yeah, we’ll talk about it later ‘kay?” I looked pleadingly at my mom. I hadn’t told Lucy or Allison about my dreams.

  She hesitated, but decided to let it go and headed back downstairs.

  As soon as my mom was gone, we went into my bedroom and I shut the door. I continued into the adjoining bathroom and quickly brushed my teeth and washed my face, pulled on some jeans and a purple tank top, and went back into my bedroom barefoot to question Lucy.

  “What dreams?” Lucy asked.

  Sigh. Thanks a lot mom. “Um, I’ve just been having some weird dreams lately, nothing major.”

  “Please Xoe, I could use the distraction,”

  I let out a loud breath. “For the past few months I’ve been having these dreams. I’m always surrounded by fire in some way, but I’m never scared. It’s the weirdest feeling, almost peaceful.”

  Lucy studied my face, not understanding the significance. “What makes them different than any other dreams? I know you’re not one to get freaked out by nightmares.”

  I looked down. “I don't know. They’re just . . . different, and when I wake up I always have a fever.”

  “A fever? I guess that is kind of weird,” Lucy conceded. “How come you never told me?”

  “I dunno,” I replied. “I’m weirded out by them enough. I don’t need to weird everyone else out.” I was feeling embarrassed and went for a subject change. “But now back to you, I think you have the more pressing matter.”

  “Yeah, yeah I guess I do,” she mumbled.

  “So what are our theories?” I asked her.

  “Theories?” she replied, confused.

  “Yeah,” I answered, “those scratches are anything but normal, which means Dan probably isn’t so normal either. Yesterday he told me he smelled me, and I don’t stink. And you said his hand had claws, so I think there really is only one plausible theory. Now, it’s a little far-fetched I admit, but I’ve been thinking about it all night and it was all I could come up with.”

  Lucy just stared at me, a little green in the face.

  “He’s a werewolf,” I stated matter-of-factly. I decided to leave out the fact that my idea came from a movie. I didn’t want to make my theory less plausible . . . if that was even possible.

  Lucy laughed in a less than convincing manner. “Man Xoe, all morning I’ve been thinking that I’m going crazy, but you’re already there.”

  I continued unperturbed, “Just think about it Lucy, what else makes sense? What has superhuman smell and claws?”

  “I don’t know what makes sense!” Lucy shouted. “But Dan being a werewolf sure doesn’t! You have been watching too many horror movies. Werewolves don’t exist.”

  So much for keeping the horror movie part a secret. “Look,” I said, “it was just an idea. I know it’s pretty far out there, but it’s all I could come up with. He does act kind of . . . dog-like.”

  Lucy sat on my bed, stunned. She sat for several minutes, considering my words.

  I waited, letting her process what I had told her.

  Lucy shook her head. “I don’t know Xoe. I just can’t believe it.”

  I grabbed Lucy’s arm and gently pulled her to her feet. “Lets take a walk. We’ll try to come up with some alternative theories.”

  The only problem was, that having considered the alternatives, I knew there weren’t any. I mean, it was my theory about Dan being a werewolf, and though shocking even to myself, I kind of believed it. The legends had to come from somewhere.

  The problem was that the only information I had came from movies, and the werewolves, according to the films, were always different. Some could only be killed by silver bullets, and others would die if you just whacked ‘em with a big stick enough times. Some just changed once a month, on the night of the full moon, others changed the whole week of the full moon, and others could change at will. We needed facts, and facts we did not have. I guess we’d find out if my crazy theory was not so crazy after all tomorrow night—on the full moon.

  I moved my hand from Lucy’s arm and took her trembling hand to lead her downstairs. The truth was what it was, even if big and growly.

  Chapter Seven

  I STOPPED BY my backdoor to slip on my hiking boots and a jean jacket on our way outside. We journeyed out across my backyard, and headed into the woods where Lucy and I had met so many years ago. We reached a damp, narrow trail that led through the tall pine trees to the wider, more used trail that connected to a different road. Running water sounded from a stream in the distance. It sounded close, but in reality, it was about two miles away. A cool breeze was blowing, scented with the autumn leaves.

  Lucy fell in step behind me, seemingly lost in thought. Usually walking out there was peaceful, but I could almost taste the tension emanating from Lucy. I glanced back at her a couple of times, but waited for her to talk first. She needed time to process things. She was so quiet that if not for the sound of her footfalls, I wouldn’t have known that she was there. We walked for a good ten minutes that way, her trailing behind me, neither of us saying a word.

  Lucy’s voice finally cracked the silence. “Do you think I’m going to be a werewolf now? I mean, if that’s what Dan is . . .”

  At least she had decided to consider my theory. That she took it seriously made it seem more real to me, which I wasn’t exactly grateful for. “I don’t know,” I answered honestly over my shoulder, “but whatever happens, we’ll get through it, even if I have to lock you in a cage once a month.”

  Lucy had quickened her stride to walk beside me. “A cage?” she asked.

  I glanced at her. “Well, maybe not a cage,” I replied, “though I don’t know what else to use. We could just lock you in a room, but seeing as neither of us knows anything about werewolves, or whether or not Dan is one, I’d say better safe than sorry.”

  Lucy thought for a moment, then responded, “A cage it is then.”

  “We’ll get online and do some research tonight. We of course won’t find any solid answers, but knowing all of the legends can’t hurt.”

  We stopped walking and sat on a felled tree on the side of the trail.

  “Do you think we should tell Allison?” Lucy asked.

  I smiled. “She might not believe us. Okay, she definitely won’t believe us. Though, I guess she’d have to at least consider it if you showed her the scratches.”

  “I don’t know,” Lucy countered. “She may not believe it even then. I’m still not sure I do.”

  I went on, “Even if we tried to keep it quiet, she can always tell when we’re trying to hide something from her. Remember the incident of the ruined shoes?”

  Lucy gave a small smile. “How could I forget?”

  I smiled back. “If she asks, we’ll tell her, and she can decide for herself whether to believe us or not.”

  Lucy nodded as the smile slipped from her face.

  I felt my smile slip too as I looked down at the ground. There wasn’t much more to say, so we sat in melancholy silence. I could feel the moisture from the tree trunk seeping through my jeans, making me cold. I focused on scratching a patch of lichen off of a nearby rock, rather than thinking too hard on our problem. Little green flakes fell to the damp earth as I picked away.

  I needed to put on a brave face for Lucy. I had a feeling that my calmness was the last thing holding her together. If I were her, I’d be falling apart right about now. I was near t
o falling apart as it was.

  Finally, we got up and continued walking farther into the woods. Usually I would have brought my backpack with water, first aid kit, and pepper spray if we were going any sort of distance, but I guess my mind had been too occupied to remember when we left my house. Stupid of me. You never know what might happen.

  We had both been watching the ground in front of us for several minutes when Lucy turned her attention to the trail ahead. She paused with instant fear at what she saw.

  Chapter Eight

  I LOOKED UP to see what had stopped her. Dan was waiting expectantly farther up the trail. He was dressed in a green t-shirt, jeans, and his black leather jacket, his hair styled to its usual perfection. He didn’t make a move towards us. He just stood there and stared.

  My heart sped and I wiped sweaty palms on my jeans. “W-what do you want?” I stammered loudly, backing up.

  He just stood there watching us, then began to come forward.

  I shouted, “Don’t come any closer or I’ll—” I blinked and he was only a few feet away. How had he moved so fast?

  “Or you’ll what?” he interrupted.

  The next thing I knew I was on the ground, looking at the branches above me, blue sky shining through. My vision swam, then darkness swallowed the branches whole.

  I woke to deep blue eyes worriedly looking into my groggy green ones, and realized someone was shaking me. I scuttled backwards out of my assailant’s grasp like a demented crab to take in the stranger who had been shaking me.

  Tousled deep brown hair, and a scruffy yet handsome male face went with the dark blue eyes that had been above me. He had a narrow, sweeping nose and his eyes were lined by a dark splash of lashes. Only his strong, sharp jaw line saved his face from femininity. He was about 6’1” with a, might I say, rather nice physique, lean yet muscled. He wore a dark green sweater, worn jeans, and dark brown hiking boots

  that had definitely seen better days.