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we laugh, louder than I realized because he stiffens, gets up and leaves. I jump for the remote, turn on the TV and act like it was funny.

“What were you laughing at?” my mom asks, totally unaware that Erin was here.

“I was watching a funny show sorry.” I lie. She gives me the evil eye and leaves. Apparently I must suck at lying. After the coast is clear, Erin comes back in trying not to laugh at my horrible lie. Dang, even he’s laughing, must’ve been pretty funny. He comes over and sits next to me.

“You stink like moldy cheese at lying.” he jokes, I lightly punch him in the shoulder

“You’re still in my house buddy.” I retort. He chuckles and I just sit there smiling like a goon. Erin is so unbelievably like me it’s hard to believe he’s real, not just my imagination run wild. A thought hits me does he ever go to school?



Chapter 3
Werewolf in My Class


When Monday comes I go to school as usual. Only this time when I am walking through the grass to wait by the door, I see Erin, talking to John. I walk a little closer but not enough for them to notice. Erin is standing there with John, looking just like any other student here. Then I realize I have seen Erin here before. I saw him once, coming through the back door, looking like he was hoping no one saw him. Just as I finish this memory, John and Erin come over to me.

“Wow, I didn’t know we went to the same school.” Erin says faking a surprised look.

“I didn’t even know you guys went to school. If that was a competition, I just won.” I reply. These past few days have just kept getting weirder and weirder.

“You may have won that time, but I win on doing the most over the weekend. I ran what felt like a hundred miles Friday, Saturday and Sunday combined.” he says with sarcastic competitiveness.

“Saturday was day of a thousand chores for me so, yah, you win, big time.” I say. He really does win; I know I probably would not be happy having to do that.

“You seriously had to do chores to pay off something I did?”

“Well it’s not like I can tell them, ‘Hey mom, hey dad, the widow’s broken ‘cause a werewolf jumped into it and his name is Erin and he’s sitting in my room waiting for me to go back and help him escape the over controlling leaders of his pack.’ now can I. So please, just do us all a favor and stop feeling guilty. You’re making me like black even more.” I say, exasperated that I still have to tell him this. He and John totally crack up, doubled over, laughing. A huge smile breaks across my face and I laugh to.

The bell rings and we all start the day off by entering the school building laughing together, stopping, and then starting all over again. I walked into first hour and sat down to one of my few friends, Samantha, Sam for short.

“So, who were those two totally hot guys you were walking in with?” she questioned once I sat down.

“Just some friends I made over the weekend. They’re totally awesome. The one with the light brown hair and hazel eyes is Erin, the other one with the dark reddish brown hair, freckles and blue eyes is John.” I say, explaining the whole who’s-who deal before she asks.

“Well, whatever happens, I get John.” Sam answers playfully.


As the day goes on, I wait until we get to wait outside to get picked up, walk or drive home. When we finally get ushered out of last hour, I catch a glance of Erin and John walking together and lock eyes with Erin, passing the silent message of ‘meet me outside’. When we can finally catch up to each other most of the juniors and seniors have gone and about a third of the kids left walk home, so the crowd has depleted quite a bit.

“Man, I never knew a day at school could seem so friggin’ long.” Erin says as we walk towards each other, forming our threesome.

“I know. Oh, and by the way, John, my friend Sam thinks you’re amazingly hot. I’ll have to introduce you guys to her.”I reply. Sam walks over and gives me a look that says introduce me now please.

“And here come Sam herself. John, Erin, this is my friend Sam.” I say with a fake formality.

“What, I don’t get ‘best’ in front of that ‘friend’ anymore?” she asks with a sarcastic frown.

“Fine, my ‘best’ friend, Samantha Whitehaven.” as I reintroduce her she gives a flip of her medium length, dyed-black, red streaked hair. She decided one day she wanted black hair so she dyed it. She decided we’d be twins even though my color was natural and hers wasn’t. Plus she had red streaks and I was still just black and all natural.

“That’s quite a friend you have there.” Erin whispers in my ear. I smile and hold back a chuckle.

“You got that right. She sure is one of a kind.” I whisper back. John and Sam look like they’re in their own world. Talking about good books they’ve read, what they like to do, and opinions on stupid get-to-know-me stuff.

“She’s good for him. It’s like when crazy and outgoing meets shy and sophisticated.” Erin tells me once we’re sure Sam and John are in a world of their own. Sam’s mom pulls up, and Sam gives John the “I got to go but see you tomorrow” look, shrugs and gets into the passenger seat of her mom’s car. As they pull away John waves and trots back over to us.

“Wow, she sure is something isn’t she?” John mumbles to himself, still looking dazed as ever.

“Well, let’s walk and talk now, shall we?” I ask, nearly desperate to get home before my parents. As we walk away from the front, I realize that Erin doesn’t really have a home to go back to and neither does John.

“Hey guys, got a place tonight?”I ask them, truly worried that they might be roughing it.

“Well, for starters we got to moving to keep them off our trail and second, nah we don’t just a really big tree here and there.” he replies nonchalantly

“Well, you can’t stay at my house all night… but you can be there till around six-thirty.” I offer up. But of course they reply with a sigh and a fading no.

“Well, if not for your benefit then just to hang out. Seriously, it’s not like Sam can hang out everyday and I really don’t feel like reading or-” I cut myself off, knowing I was about to give away something Erin knew, but not John. Seeing as when I was explain that to Erin, John was zoned out and snooping around my room.

“Or what? Play a little guitar; sing a little here and there.” Erin teases, but he doesn’t know that it really made me angry. Just then John looks at me, laughs, and runs of towards the trees, yelling at Erin to not wait up. Erin just looks at me and chuckles

“Oh, shut up, Erin.” I tell him.

“Just to let you know, I win.” he tells me and smiles. I just walk on, him right on my heels.


When we get home, my mom is sitting on the sofa cutting coupons out of the newspaper. She looks up and gives the is-there-something-I-should-know-about look that almost every kid hates.

“Hey mom, you’re home early.” I say trying to fill the void of awkward silence.

“Got off work early, who is this?” she asks pointed, quickly, and slightly upset.

“This is Erin Stronghart; we both go to Creston High School. Mom, this is Erin, Erin, this is my mom.” I say introducing them to each other. Erin smiles and waves but, my mom, being my mom, just gives him the evil-eye and goes back to coupon clipping. I show Erin around the house and finish with his most familiar room; mine.

“As you know, this is my room.” I finish.

“Ah yes, the room we hid in after I totally destroyed your door.” he says with just a hint of guilt in his voice.

“Oh seriously, you’re still stuck on feeling guilty about that?!” I retort. He really needs to get over that.

“How can I not, you have to pay for it!” he says, aggravated that I’m not getting the point.

“I get your point… but I don’t think you’re getting mine.” I tell him.

“Fine. What’s your point?” he asks, heaving a huge sigh

“My point is that I really couldn’t care less whether or not I have to pay for the stupid thing and you really need to stop worrying and feeling bad. If you don’t you’ll turn bitter and hate yourself. So be a man and forget about it.” I said matter-of-factly. He looked up and gave me a cute I-give-up you-win smile.

The next hour or so we spent in my room. Erin begged me to teach him a little guitar.

“C’mon, it won’t be too hard.” he said. “I’m a quick learner.”

“Fine.” I give in. “but your gonna start where I did.” I finish

“Alright, and where was that?” he asks.

“Does the pitch get higher as you go up or down the string?” I question.

After a while of him moving around his fingers on the guitar he answers “Down. At least I think.”

“Wow, you are a quick learner.” I say. I was pretty surprised that he got it so fast. Most people think it would get higher as it went up. After another half hour or so, I was already teaching him chords.

“Okay, I think I got that down. What’s the
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