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“I hate when I have to wait to shit,” Chris said.
They looked at me expectantly.
I sighed. “I don’t even know why I invited you.”
“Are there three cakes?” Rico said, voice high-pitched.
“It’s a pop gun,” Chris said, shoving the present into my hands.
“It’s from the both of us,” Tanner said.
“You owe me fifty cents,” Chris told him.
“You have burgers and hot dogs and lasagna?” Rico asked. “Mierda. What kind of white nonsense is this?”
The Bennetts had gone overboard. They always did. They were powerful and rich, and people respected them. Green Creek survived because of them. They donated money and time, and even though townies still sometimes whispered cult, they were an oddity beloved.
And I was part of their pack. I heard their songs in my head, the voices connecting me to the wolves. I had ink driven into my skin, binding me to them. I was them and they were me.
So of course they did this for me.
Yes, there were three cakes. And burgers and hot dogs and lasagna. There was also a pile of presents almost as tall as I was, and the wolves would touch my shoulder and hair and cheeks, covering me in their scent. I was ingrained in them, in the earth around us. The sky above was blue, but I could feel the hidden moon calling for the sun. There was a clearing far off in the woods where I had run with beasts as large as horses.
Happy birthday, they sang to me, a chorus washing over me.
My mother didn’t sing.
My father didn’t either.
They watched.
Thomas said, “You’re almost a man now.”
Elizabeth said, “He loves you, you know. Thomas. He can’t wait for you to be his witch.”
Abel said, “This is your family. These are your people. You are one of us.”
Mark said, “Can I talk to you for a moment?”
I looked up, mouth full of white cake with raspberry filling.
Mark stood next to the table, shuffling his feet. He was fifteen, and gangly. His wolf was a deep chestnut brown that I liked to run my fingers over. Sometimes he would nip at my hand. Other times he would growl deep in his throat, his head near my feet. And one day, weeks from this moment, he’d stand before me, sweating in a tie.
He still insisted I smelled like dirt and leaves and rain.
It didn’t bother me much anymore.
He had nice shoulders. He had a nice face. His eyebrows were bushy, and when he laughed, it was rusty and sounded like he was gargling gravel. I liked the way it crawled deep from his belly.
“You should probably keep chewing,” Rico whispered to me. “Because you have cake in your mouth.”
Chris squinted at me. “It’s also on his chin.”
Tanner laughed. “You have frosting on your nose.”
I choked the cake down, glaring at them.
They smiled at me.
