Wolfblood, .Chapter.Two.

by dragonwriter (S.E. Roberts) in Wolf's mind, making him wonder who Eclipse is, and in Zarlac's mind, making him wonder who Wolf is

Website: www.wolfbloodbook.yolasite.com

Enjoy :)

.Chapter.Two.

The boy gazed out the bus window at the trees flying by.

He had decided to ride the bus home, and hoped guiltily that the words in the books of the other kids’ backpacks were dead so that he wouldn’t have to listen to them screaming.

Abby giggled excitedly, though part of her screamed out to not try it.

“Go on, Abbs!” Jenny, her best friend, poked her in the ribs. They were four rows behind the wolflike boy, and Jenny was excited to play the prank on the ‘new boy’ that they always did on ‘new kids’.

Abby gazed at the back of his head for a moment.

It was like he was gothic, and yet he wasn’t. Like he looked goth and sort of acted goth, but wasn’t really.

“What... what do I do again?” She asked. She knew she was just putting it off longer so she could think of a reason not to play the trick on him. But the last thing she wanted to do was lose her dignity, and thus her popularity, so she was trying to buy herself some time to think of a new idea.

“You know what to do, Abbs,” Becca, her other friend giggled next to her out of Jenny, Rose, and Gina.

“Go up to him, sit down next to him, and then tell him to come to forty-forth avenue street at six o’clock!” Rose gave a little excited shudder. Forty-forth avenue street was the address of a dump.

“He won’t be able to resist the most popular girl’s ask for a date on his first day, and he’ll think all highly of himself, and then show up and...” Gina trailed off into spasmodic giggles.

For a moment Abby considered simply refusing. But then, her dignity always came first, so she sighed and begrudgingly got up (Though you had to know what she was thinking to know that it was begrudgingly; her jolly skips did a fantastic job of covering her reluctance up) and plopped down into the black leathery bus seat next to the wolflike boy.

“So,” She said, flipping her hair over her shoulder.

He didn’t even look at her. In fact, he didn’t even acknowledge that she was there. But, in fact, he knew full well she was there, and his heart was pounding.

“What’s your name?” Abby prodded, ignoring him ignoring her.

Maxwell replied cooly, “Why should I tell you? I don’t even know you.”

For a moment, Abby stared at him with narrowed grey eyes. No one ever, and really never had ever talked to her like that before. Not talked to her with love or awe. Not even her mother, who spoiled her rich.

“Ah, because I’m Abby?” Abby said like it was the most obvious thing in the world, placing a question mark at the end to make him seem more outrageous.

The boy glanced at her with a completely unreadable expression.

She caught a flash of bright green behind his black bangs.

A green eyed goth. Interesting.

“Good for you,” he answered evenly.

She frowned for a moment. Hearing a burst of giggles, she threw a glance over her shoulder to see her friends urging her enthusiastically on, but also snickering at the cool way he ignored her every move, which normally would instantly capture someone.

There was an awkward silence for a moment, but not for Maxwell. It was only awkward because Abby knew it could be, and thus it was.

“Abbs! Do eet!” Rose’s hiss reached her ears. And the boy’s, too, but he remained silent. But just then, the bus pulled to a stop at a long, stony dirt driveway that curved to the side and then vanished from sight amidst a thick forest of thorny, black, and dead trees. Instantly, Abby felt a frozen sense of foreboding creeping up her spine. And who should silently rise, slide easily between her knees and and the back of the seat in front of them and stride out the doors but the strange wolflike boy?

Abby stared after him, mouth gape open. She realized that the bus full of mobbing, chatting kids had fallen totally silent, staring at the boy as he silently stepped out of the bus and vanished into the forest of dead, clawlike trees. So they, too had felt the strange sense of foreboding chill their bones at the sight of the mysterious road into the deathly black thickness of the forest.

Maxwell let a terrified shudder of fear jolt through his body as soon as he stepped out of sight of the bus. This was where he was supposed to live. This was where his father lived.

Slowly, ever so slowly, his feet dragged against the stony road, echoing hollowly through the forest and sending chills up his spine as he realized how silent the forest was. He knew it was from his father. His father, the rejected outcast.

Once, this forest had been beautiful. But as soon as his father had come, it had turned dead and crippled in the presence of the evil seething within it’s heart.

Abruptly, almost on their own accord, the boy’s feet sharply changed direction, leading him into the woods. Better the woods then the place he was headed before. Knowing that his father was watching his every move, Maxwell shuffled through the forest, kicking up dead leaves with the toe of his black-clad foot.

“Maxwell, you did well at school today.” The boy shuddered as his father’s voice echoed across the dead trees, bouncing around so that Maxwell couldn’t pinpoint where he really was. As usual, his father had been watching every move he had made.

Suddenly, the horrible truth struck the boy.

He couldn’t get away from his father, no matter what.

He couldn’t even go into the most horrible place, where he was sure his father wouldn’t follow. He couldn’t even go to school, where dying words were concentrated more then anywhere else.

“I know, I know, I know, I’ll do it tomorrow...” Abby sighed to Jenny.

“Yeah, but why didn’t you do it today?!” Jenny hissed in reply.

They were still in the school bus.

“I... didn’t... I just... was... I don’t know, okay?” Abby tried her best to push away the image of that strange gothic-and-yet-not-gothic boy walking down the horrible dirt road into who knows where. The belly of the beast, Abbs guessed.

The next day on the bus was almost exactly the same as the first.

The sky was grey. The roads were deserted.

At least the strange boy was still there to brighten Abby’s day, sitting silently in the same corner he had been the day before. Ironic, Abby thought as she watched the back of his head. The gothic kid---with black hair, black rimmed eyes, back jeans and a black shirt-- is the thing that’s brightening my day. You’d think he’d darken it.

The bus was empty except for Maxwell, Abby, and a few other kids, because the other kid’s hadn’t come out of the school yet. The bus was stopped, driver reading the newspaper as he waited for the other kids to come.

Abby couldn’t help but note as she watched Max how ridiculously still he was.

All the other kids always twitched when they waited. Abby never really realized it until she saw someone still how much people really did twitch. They would drum on the back of the seat in front of them, or tap their foot, or glance around the school bus. They never just sat there, like he did.

She still didn’t know his name.

Just then, chorus of giggles and gossip sounded, and a moment later Abby’s gang came in the bus.

The black haired boy swallowed as Abby’s gang of girls strode down the aisle to the back seat where they always sat. The wind that came as they walked by smelled sickeningly of cotton candy perfume. He watched them watch him as they walked by. Even though they pretended not to, they all glanced at him.

Truth was, the reason they glanced at them was that he creeped them out: a  gothic boy, off in a dark corner, silently watching them. Freaky.

He watched them the entire time they walked down the aisle, sit in their seats, and then get comfortable, then start chatting with Abby.

In all the time before the populars came into the bus, her had been aware of Abby watching him in the same silent way that he watched the other girls.

Just... silently watching him.

Now Abby was gossiping with them. Maxwell turned back to looking out the window.

“Abbs, go now!” Gina urged.

The bus had started, and was now on it’s way to dropping the first eighth grader off.

Abby fidgeted again, feeling that same feeling of strong reluctance wash over her. But she new that in the end, she would have to anyways, so she didn’t put it off for too long.

She rose to her feet and forced herself to skip over to him.

She couldn’t exactly explain the way she felt about the strange gothic boy.

It was like she was freaked out by him and fascinated at the same time. He wasn’t even like a gothic person... he was different. Like something about why he looked so gothic wasn’t what it seemed. Or like the wolflike way his jaw was set concealed something more then she could ever understand.

As she sat down, slight surprise overtook her as he jumped. I must have startled him.

But when she recalled that jump again, it didn’t seem like he jumped at all.

He had flinched, not jumped. He flinched.

That’s weird.

Abby stared at him for a moment, trying to figure out why he just flinched. Then, not being one to stay on one subject for too long, she began the routine.

“Eh... please tell me your name. I really wanna know.” She demanded. This part of the routine was easier for her then sending him an address for the dump... because she actually did want to know his name.

She waited patiently, looking intently at him, and trying to find his eyes underneath his thick, long black bangs.

He answered her with another question.

“What’s your name?”

“Abby. Abby Goldwood. My middle name’s Sabrina.” She replied instantly. Maybe if she told him her name, then he would tell her his.

But he didn’t. He remained silent.

“You have the right to remain not silent,” She said, frowning at him.

He was still looking out the window. The window, which was open, brought in a slight breeze suddenly, which rustled the boy’s bangs back out of his eyes.

Good. Now I’ll be able to see his eyes. It’s always easier to talk to someone when you know what their eyes look like. After all, they are the window to the soul, right?

There wasn’t a split second between the time his bangs were pushed back and the time he instantly brushed them back over his eyes. Like he didn’t want her to see his eyes.

She frowned even harder. He was the hardest person to talk to she had ever met. He never responded, and he wouldn’t let anyone see his eyes, which made it incredibly difficult to understand what he was feeling. Abby was one of those people who could read someone’s feeling just by looking at their eyes.

There was a short silence.

Then another anxious giggle coming from Gina floated over the seats to Abby: “C’mon! Do eet!”

She held her breath for a moment, then let it out.

“Look, dude. I’m having a party tonight, you’re invited.” She lied.

She waited for him to have a reaction, but he didn’t even acknowledge her invitation.

Abby stared at his wolflike face in anticipation for a moment, and then swallowed.

“The address is fourty-forth avenue. Come at six tonight.”

As soon as the words left her mouth, Abby winced inwardly. She didn’t know why she was so reluctant to play a prank on him; she had done it countless times before, to countless numbers of kids... but with the strange gothic boy, it just wasn’t the same. It didn’t feel right, playing her prank on him.

Underneath his black bangs, the boy’s emerald eyes narrowed, though Abby couldn’t see them.

There was yet another pause. Abby was sitting stiffly on the edge of her chair in anticipation. She could her her gang of friend giggling in the background, but in that moment, all there was was regret. Regret for playing that horrible prank on him.

“Can I ask you something?” The boy said abruptly. Abby raised her eyebrows at his unexpected desire to talk.

Like eyes, Abby could read voices. Not really in the way she could read eyes, though; eyes portrayed what someone was feeling at that moment, right then and there. But voices told her what kind of person the speaker was, not just what they were feeling. Happy, interesting, nerdy... any kind of person, she could always tell simply by the texture of their voice.

His voice was full of dark, murky depth, as if what he looked like on the outside only portrayed only a fragment of who he was. To Abby, watching him then and there was like looking at a deep pool full of inky blackness, but only seeing the surface, not what was below.

“Sure, anything!” Abby replied, almost relieved to be making any conversation with him at all.

He was looking out the window still, and his position didn’t change one bit as he answered.

“Why did you just give me the address to a dump?”

Apparently the entire bus had been eavesdropping on the conversation between the popular girl and the dark, eerie newcomer, because the whole bus of kids was suddenly plunged into a shocked silence.

Abby stared, open-mouthed at the boy, who was still looking innocently out the window, as if he hadn’t just disarmed a prank that had worked for years.

Then came the soft, “ooohhhh, you gonna take that, Abbs?”’s from the group of popular girls in the back, who could not believe what just happened.

Abby had just been completely outwitted and embarrassed in front of an entire bus of kids by a few soft, dark words. Insulted, in a way.

And yet there wasn’t that spiteful desire behind his words, that spiteful desire that always comes when someone is purposely outwitting another. He was just simply wondering, seemed like to Abby.