The next morning, I woke up and immediately slid out of bed.
Sunlight assaulted me through the window, and I yanked the curtains shut. Iguess my mom or dad thought the best way to force me to get up was with light.
Well, it worked.
Cranky, I headed for the bathroom attached to my room and was once again thankful that we each had our own.
We hadn't always, but with three daughters always taking up the bathrooms and no desire to move, my father had paid for renovations.
While I was in the restroom, I tried not to think about the night before.
It was impossible, of course. Alone with my only thoughts in the shower, all I could see was everyone staring while he made a fool of me, but the worst wasn't the humiliation. It was reliving the shattering rejection over and over.
Not even singing in the shower like I usually did, I tried to get out as quickly as possible, so I didn't have to be trapped in there alone anymore.
Staring at myself in the mirror, I twisted my lips unhappily, then used a washcloth to cleanse the smeared eyeliner and mascara I hadn't bothered to take off the night before, then dried off and returned to my room to see my mom sitting at my desk.
Usually, she was in a hurry to prepare for work in the mornings, and seeing her at my desk was new.
I walked over to her, and asked, "Mom?"
With a tentative smile, she chirped, "Morning, Em."
Getting up from the desk, she wrapped her arms around me in to a snug embrace and kissed the top of my head.
"Won't you be late?" I ducked out of her hug as tears stung my eyes and blinked them away.
"I've gotten permission from my boss to stay home from work today."
"Oh."
My mom was usually very strict about going to work unless someone was sick or had an emergency. I guess she deemed my emotional state crashing into the core of the Earth as an emergency.
"So, what do you wanna do?" she asked, closing the laptop, then sitting back down at my desk like she meant to stay for a while.
Staring at the wall, I thought of everything I'd typically want, but nothing seemed interesting or fun.
"Emery?" my mom asked, her voice sounding sad.
"Yes?"
She gave me a worried look and asked, "Why don't you come downstairs with me and have breakfast."
It sounded like the worst idea in the world, considering I could run into my sisters there, but at least it would keep me out of my own head.
"Sure, but I don't feel like eating in a towel, so give me a second."
She nodded and waited outside my room.
After I tugged on an all-black outfit, I followed my mom downstairs to the kitchen and moved to the cabinet to grab a bowl for cereal, but she gently encircled my wrist with her fingers and pushed it back to my side.
"I'll make you something. Is there anything you'd like? We have bacon, eggs… I can make pancakes."
The thought of eating made my stomach churn like the rough sea.
"I don't feel great. Maybe something small? I only came down because you wanted me to, so make whatever you want."
The whites of my mom's eyes slowly started to have a faint pink tinge and watered.
Sighing, I folded my arms on the table and laid my head on them. That kicked her into gear because she wiped her eyes, then opened the fridge and started placing things on the counter.
It wasn't long before I heard the repetitive clicking of a fork on a ceramic bowl as she beat eggs.
The toaster button clicked a few minutes later, and while my mom poured the scrambled eggs into a hot pan, she asked, "Hey, Emery?"
"Yeah?"
"Do you want to talk about last night?"
"No. Not even a little."
"Okay" Her shoulders sagged, but she didn't push the issue anymore. "Well, should I have your sisters stay upstairs until you're done eating?"
I paused for a long moment, then nodded and watched as my mom's eyes flashed a brilliant amber before returning to their bright blue.
A little bit later, a plate full of eggs and a piece of buttered toast was set in front of me, and I whispered, "Thanks."
Sitting down with her own breakfast, my mom said, "If you change your mind about talking, I'm here for you."
Shoving a spoonful of eggs that tasted like overly salty emptiness was the only answer I gave her.
After eating, I tried to wash the dishes, but my mom said she'd take care of them, so I meandered back upstairs to my room, where I held down the button only my controller and stared at the tv as it blinked to life.
Mindlessly, I played.
My thoughts kept straying to the night before, and my heart wouldn't stop aching for even five minutes.
After a while, I stopped checking my score. Seeing my tag near the bottom was disappointing, and I didn't need any more disappointment for the rest of my life.
Just when I finished the match I'd decided would be my last, my phone beeped, and my heart plunged into the depths of misery.
I didn't want to speak to anyone. Of course, they'd try to talk about the disaster.
All night, I'd ignored the pings until I couldn't take it anymore and set my phone on do not disturb. Maybe I shouldn't have ever taken it off.
Peeking at the notification, I sighed.
Maria: How are you?
Since we were kids, Maria and I had been best friends, and she was the only person I would respond to.
Me: Fine.
That was it. I hoped it would deter her from replying.
There was a short moment of silence before a new message popped up.
Maria: Liar. I'm outside. Coming in.
Of course, I was lying, but I didn't want to see her so early... or even at all, at least until I could breathe without the weight of everything sitting on my chest.
I typed back without thinking.
Me: Don't. Not a good time.
I waited for her response, but none came.
Instead, I heard a knock on the door.
"Go away." Like last time I denied her entrance, I meant, but it was harsher to hear myself say it than see it as words on a screen and regret bubbled in my stomach.
"Please, please open the door. I'm worried about you!"
Maria's voice dipped down, making me feel even more guilty for being stubborn and cruel.
"Ugh… fine," I grumbled and exited the lobby of my game before it could pull me into another match.
I turned everything off, then held the door open for her.
Maria's eyes were red, her cheeks had wet trails down to her jaw, and it looked like her nose could use a tissue.
With furrowed brows, I asked, "What's wrong?"
Maria leaped into me without answering and cocooned me in a hug. Soft cries wet the crook of my neck, and I instinctively hugged her back.
"Maria, what happened?"
"Everything! How many times have we dreamed about our mates? You found yours, but… he's such a jerk, Em! And people won't stop saying such horrible things!"
Maria had never been one to spare anyone's feelings. Sometimes, it stung more than anything, but her honesty was also refreshing.
While I comforted my best friend, who was crying over my rejection and the pack's disgusting gossip, every inch of me hurt, as though the wounds had reopened, but they hadn't even had time to heal.
"There's nothing we can do about it," I murmured.
Maria sniffled and wiped her tears with her sleeve. "That's not true! We can clear your name and show them how amazing you are! I keep trying, but…"
She trailed off, shaking her head.
Releasing her from the hug, I wandered over to my bed and sat on the edge. Gripping the mattress tightly, I grumbled, "I can't shift, and an 8-year-old could beat me in arm wrestling. There's no reason for you to defend me when it's all true, and obviously, no one cares that there's more to me than a girl who's bad at being a werewolf."
"That's so shallow, though! So, what if you can't shift or win a fight? You're not worthless like people are saying! I don't know anyone as smart as you! Well, except maybe me." She half-heartedly giggled, but the sound was almost as miserable as her crying.
Maria seemed to be taking everything as hard as I was. Well, that's impossible, but she took it harder than I thought she would since it hadn't happened to her.
Hopefully, it never did.
"He's horrible," she continued like she hadn't just laughed.
"Yeah, he is, and in a few years, he'll be our Alpha. Maria, I… I really don't know if I can deal with seeing his face all over the city. On the buses, in the buildings… All over the news..."
Suddenly, the blood drained from my head, and I swayed, trying to keep my balance.
I couldn't be part of a pack led by the man who humiliated me. Actually, I didn't even know if I could step outside of my house.
The crowd last night had been enough to know that no matter where I went, people would be watching me, talking about me, and mocking me.
I didn't want to see any more stares or hear any more whispers.
I didn't want to be reminded of what had happened.
No… That wasn't enough. The truth was: I didn't want to be me anymore.
My fingers began trembling, and I pressed them to my aching head. They shivered against clammy skin.
"Emery? Are you okay?" Maria asked. Her eyes were trained on me, but I was losing sight of her even though she was right next to me.
I blinked a few times, trying to fix whatever was happening to my eyes, but my vision became even darker.
"I need to lie down," I mumbled, and as I said it, my breathing became so labored that no matter how quickly I inhaled, I felt like I wasn't getting enough air.
Dropping my arm from her back, I curled into a ball.
She draped the blanket over me, then cuddled up behind me.
"Thank you," I murmured.
"For what?"
"For being here for me."
Inhaling deeply, I closed my eyes.
The voice of a woman I didn't recognize cooed, "My dear, that is not how things should have gone. Forgive my misjudgment, and don't give up."
After that, I heard nothing, and even the pale red of my bedroom light shining through my eyelids went black.