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“I think I might be a werewolf.”
“I think you’ve been reading too many paranormal romance novels.”
“Well, something’s wrong with me, and that’s the only explanation I can think of that makes any sense.”
“Dude, it makes no sense. There’s no such thing as werewolves.”
I tried growling at my best friend, but he just gave me a funny look, with his upper lip kind of pulled up on one side, letting me know what he thought of that. I had to admit it didn’t sound very convincing. Maybe I wasn’t cut out to be a werewolf. I tried growling again, to make sure.
“You’re not a werewolf, Jake. Shut up.”
“Maybe I’m one of those submissive werewolves. An Omega or whatever.” I was still hung up on the growling thing.
“Not. A. Werewolf.” Don repeated, not lifting his eyes from the book he was reading. He turned the page, as if I hadn’t just dropped a paranormal bomb on him. His best friend might be a werewolf, and he was fucking reading a book?
“What are you reading?” I asked, to make conversation and get his attention back on me.
“World War Z.”
“Isn’t that about zombies?” I asked.
“Yep.”
“So you don’t believe in werewolves, but you believe in zombies?”
Don closed the book and rubbed at a spot between his eyes. “No. I do not believe in zombies. I am entertained by zombies.”
“I don’t think I like your tone.”
“You don’t like my tone? Really? You know, you could not like my tone from your own apartment.”
“What the fuck? Fine.” I opened the door onto the hall, leaving it standing open as I left because I knew that irritated him and he’d have to get up to close it. I marched across the landing and opened the door to my own apartment before turning back to deliver my parting shot. “Just be careful on the next full moon, dude. I’ll be watching for you.”
Don’s witty comeback was an elegantly extended middle finger. He’d gotten really good at that gesture since we’d met. I flopped down on my sofa and looked out the window while I waited for Don to come over and continue the conversation.
My squirrel was back. Well, not mine, obviously, but the one who hangs out in the live oak outside my apartment and watches me through the windows, the furry little perv. He was nibbling on an acorn, spinning it around in his sharp little claws while he watched me like I was an exhibit at the zoo. Maybe to squirrels, that’s what humans inside their houses are. Maybe we’re just entertainment for them.
“Okay, fine. Why do you think you’re a werewolf?” I turned to see Don leaning against the doorframe, arms crossed.
I didn’t say anything, just frowned and turned back to watch my voyeuristic squirrel.
“Dude, come on. You look like hell, you’ve been acting loopy all week, and now this werewolf stuff. What’s going on?”
I sighed and swung my legs to the floor so Don could join me on the sofa. “I haven’t had a decent night’s sleep in days. I have these crazy dreams that seem to go on and on, and I wake up exhausted.”
“And that translates to you being a werewolf how?”
“The dreams are the same every night – well, pretty much. I’m running and smelling things and hunting. I’m running on four legs and I have fur and paws, I can see them when I look down. I don’t really think clearly in my dreams – I mostly feel stuff.”
“Like what?”
“Happy, frightened, excited. Nothing complicated. But I run and run, and it’s so vivid. Like I’m really there, and I wake up feeling like I was.”
“Maybe you’re just not sleeping well. Have you tried taking a sleep aid?”
“Yeah, but that just made it worse. Like I was still there, but having trouble keeping up – like walking against the tide.”
“Okay, I get that you’re having some kind of sleep issues and crazy dreams, but the werewolf thing is over the top. Maybe you’re sleepwalking?”
That sounded better than being a werewolf, even though werewolves were pretty cool. “But, wouldn’t that be dangerous? Like, what if I’m sleepwalking and get hit by a car crossing the street, or head over to the park and fall into the bayou or something?”
Don rested his head on the back of the sofa and looked at the ceiling. “I haven’t heard you leave your apartment, though, and I think I would.”
Yeah, that was pretty likely. It was an old building, one of those early twentieth century rooming-style buildings with eight studio apartments, each with a bathroom and a tiny kitchen. There was a wide hallway that ran through the center of the building from front to back on both floors. The original wooden interior doors were still there, and there were gaps between the bottoms of the doors and the floor.
“Yeah. Whatever.”
“Jake...”
“Yeah, yeah. I know. Maybe it’s nerves. Midterms are coming up in a couple of weeks.”
“Pfft. Since when have you worried about school?”
“Since my advisor told me I needed to stop putzing around and settle on a major. He seems to think seven years is long enough to make up my mind.”
“He may have a point.”
I shrugged.
“You want to talk about it?”
“I just... I just really like studying, you know? There’s so much, and I want to learn so much of it. How can I possibly make up my mind? How can I pick just one thing?”
“Just because you graduate doesn’t mean you have to stop going to school. Or you could double major. That squirrel is starting to freak me out.”
The squirrel had moved to sit on the windowsill and was watching us through the slightly rippled glass.
“He’s probably just hungry.”
“You’ve been feeding it, haven’t you?”
“Sometimes I put some sunflower seeds on the windowsill. The occasional pecan. Maybe.”
“What if it has rabies?”
“He doesn’t have rabies.”
“How do you know? Are you an animal expert now? Maybe you should transfer to A&M.”
“Yeah, and my fine gay ass would last how long in College Station? No, thank you very little, I’ll stay right here.” I looked at the squirrel, who had started scratching at the window. “I just know. I don’t know how I know, but I know.”
“You definitely need a good night’s sleep. You’re getting loopier by the minute.”
I didn’t answer. I got up to fetch a handful of sunflower seeds from the kitchen and crossed back over to the window.
“Whoa. Are you going to open that window?”
“Duh.”
“What if it tries to come inside?”
“He won’t. And if he does I’ll put him back out. Just chill.”
The squirrel was looking at Don now, and when I raised the window he started making that annoyed chirpy noise they make when someone is in their territory. I don’t think he liked Don any more than Don liked him. “Now, now. Hush, you.” I sprinkled the seeds on the windowsill and the squirrel decided they were more interesting than Don and dug into his snack. I closed the window and left him to it. “Miss Nancy says –”
“Oh, lord. Miss Nancy? Now we’re getting somewhere.” Don did not think much of my spiritual advisor.
“Miss Nancy has a gift.” She did, too. I had known Miss Nancy since I was twelve, and she had guided me over many a bump in my adolescent road. She always encouraged me to trust myself and never flipped me off or called me loopy. “And I’m going to see her tomorrow.”
“You’re going to do what you want to do, no matter what I say.”
“Yeah.”
“Okay, fine. I gotta go – I’m working happy hour today. You want to come by? I can hook you up with a beer or two.”
“Probably not. Maybe I’ll try to go to bed early.”
