Chapter 5

Prue

I nudged Rose with my elbow as I balanced my tray of food.

“My girls are over there,” I said, gesturing with my chin toward the far table.

“Come on.”

She followed, her steps a little hesitant, eyes flicking nervously toward the two girls already seated. I didn’t blame her – facing a new group is like walking into a live comedy show where you’re not sure if you’re the guest or the punchline.

“Yo! Heads up – new girl joining our heartwarming little cult,” I announced, dropping my tray onto the table with a dramatic shuffle and plopping into the seat like I owned it.

Kate and Christina looked up mid-bite. Both gave Rose a once-over. Kate’s face shifted into her usual unimpressed expression – eyebrow arched, lips pursed, chewing like she had just bitten into a lemon. Rose, bless her heart, squeaked out a soft, almost apologetic, “Hi.”

“Don’t be so antisocial, Kate,” I scolded, though there was no real heat in my voice.

“You took me in with zero interrogation just a few weeks back, remember?” I added, shooting her a meaningful look.

Kate shrugged, not even pausing her chewing. “Yeah, well, you were funny. And bold. And basically crazy. All the qualities I admire in a human being.”

“Rose is charming in her own way,” I replied smoothly, as if I’d known her for a decade. I’m telling you – my people radar is rarely, if ever, wrong.

“And besides –” I leaned in slightly, dropping my voice like I was sharing a state secret, “she made the first move. Spoke to me first.”

Kate blinked. “She did?”

Rose nodded, shy but proud. “Yeah. I figured if I waited too long, I’d chicken out.”

“See? That’s bravery,” I said, gesturing with my fork as if I were writing her name in a Hall of Fame for social courage. “We respect bravery here.”

“Thanks for taking me in, really,” Rose said, glancing between the three of us. “My best friend moved a few months ago – her parents got these amazing jobs in California, so… yeah. It's been rough.”

Huh. That explained the shadow of sadness I’d noticed in her eyes earlier. She hadn’t said much before, but that kind of loneliness doesn’t always need words.

“Don’t worry, we take in anyone.” I offered her a genuine smile.

Kate raised a brow. “You sound like a charity shelter that rescues stray cats and dogs.”

“If you know how to purr, I’ll let you sit in my lap,” I winked, sliding effortlessly into the tone of sass that bonded us all. Christina burst out laughing, and even Rose giggled, her shoulders visibly relaxing. Sarcasm, I swear – it’s our native language.

“So, Rose, you into anything weird or cool? Gotta earn your badge somehow.” Christina asked, tilting her head playfully.

Rose grinned. “I binge true crime podcasts and draw dead plants in sketchbooks. Does that count?”

Kate smirked. “You had me at ‘dead plants.’ Welcome to the freak table.”

Rose completely relaxed in her seat, still holding herself a little tight, but there was a glimmer of belonging in her eyes now. And just like that – she was one of us.

“Not to be the joy assassin, but maybe you shouldn’t watch those true crime podcasts,” I said apologetically, watching Rose gasp at me in disbelief.

Being informed definitely had its downsides. Once you knew how many of the things people loved – and were borderline obsessed with – were actually bad for us, it was hard to un-know it.

“You know - sugar, caffeine, doom-scrolling, everyone’s favorite TV shows, action movies – most of it quietly chips away at our health and mental well-being.” I added, prompting a full round of eye rolls from the girls – typical teenage vibe: ‘You don’t tell me what to do, I won’t tell you where to go.’ Fair deal, right?

No one wanted to dive into that discussion with me, so we shifted gears and focused on getting to know Rose better.

“I think we need to go out today after school,” I suggested casually, balancing my tray as we were ready to leave the cafeteria.

“To do what?” Kate asked, frowning like I just proposed we join a pyramid scheme.

“To have fun and bond over pumpkin spice lattes and a glorious piece of chocolate cake,” I replied, switching to my most exaggerated French accent, complete with a snooty head tilt and finger flourish. “Zee bonding experience, oui oui!”

The girls burst into laughter, and I grinned. Anything for a laugh – honestly, it’s like currency in our little group.

“I don’t know...” Kate murmured, already retreating into that overly responsible corner of her brain.

“Oh, come on. It’s not like you’re studying for an entry exam to Yale,” I said, letting a little irritation slip into my voice.

She gave me a deadpan look. “You don’t know my life.”

“Girl, your life is memes, sarcasm, and occasionally passing math.”

“Fine,” she groaned, caving at last.

“Good girl.” I winked like a smug aunt handing out wine at a family dinner.

So, after classes wrapped up, we executed our flawless plan: meet at the entrance, then head for the cozy little café Christina had visited with her parents over the weekend. I hadn’t done much exploring downtown yet, so I followed their lead.

Because we were broke teenagers (and proud), we walked the whole way instead of catching a bus or Uber. We stuck in a pack – two by two on the narrow sidewalk – chattering away, completely absorbed in the latest school gossip, whose crush was spiraling out of control, and whether our math teacher might secretly be a vampire. You know, important stuff.

Then, as we turned a corner near a bus stop, this guy passed us – tall, athletic, wearing a hoodie like he thought he was in a rap video – and let out a whistle while openly checking us out. Like he was picking fruit at the market. “Awooga!” he didn’t say, but it was the vibe.

Without missing a beat, I let out a loud, wild barking sound – like a mad bulldog on a caffeine bender. I even stomped toward him for dramatic effect.

“Ruff! Ruff! GRRRRRRR!”

The guy startled so hard he stumbled, gave me a horrified glance, and practically sprinted away like I was an escaped mental patient. Honestly? Not far off the mark.

“Muahaha!” I cackled like a full-blown cartoon villain, doubling down as he fled.

“Mental bi.tch!” he shouted over his shoulder, clearly rattled.

I exhaled, victorious, as my wolf howled with laughter in the back of my mind. Mission: accomplished. Prick: neutralized.

I turned back to my girls, practically glowing, only to find them all staring at me like I’d just peeled off my face and revealed a second, weirder face underneath.

“What?” I asked, hands up. “If a guy whistles, he’s clearly looking for a dog. So. A dog is what he gets.”

They blinked. Processing. Then Rose broke into laughter first, and like dominoes, the rest followed. Kate actually bent over, wheezing. Rose had literal tears in her eyes.

“Wow,” Kate said, recovering. “I knew you were crazy, but this is a whole new tier of unhinged.”

“Loud and proud,” I said with a dramatic curtsy. “Crazy lady here – accepting awards daily.”

“We should all bark next time someone whistles,” I said, totally serious.

“Oh, I’m in,” Christina piped up, her eyes sparkling with mischief. I knew there was a devil hiding under her perfect-daughter vibe.

“Or!” I said, animated now. “If a guy tries one of those cringy pickup lines, we all freeze and go: ‘You can see us?’ like we’re ghosts. Then we ran towards him with crazy laughter.”

I wiggled my eyebrows at them with all the enthusiasm of a sleep-deprived squirrel.

Kate looked over her shoulder at me, laughing. “Where do you get these crazy inspirations from?”

“From one crazy chick on I***a.gram reels,” I said honestly. “She’s a gift from the chaotic gods.” I don't want to take credit for something that isn't my own creation.

“I’ve used a bunch of her stuff. Works like a charm – guys run off like scared weasels. Which, obviously, is the goal.”

“You’re something else,” Kate said, shaking her head.

“That’s why you love me so much.” I winked at her.

“I do,” she admitted. “And honestly, I’m already sad it’s our last four months together. I’m never gonna meet anyone like you again.”

“Aww, aren’t you a sweetheart,” I cooed, mock-sniffing.

By the time we got to the café, Rose was limping.

“Jeez, my legs are killing me,” she groaned.

“Not a ten-thousand-steps-a-day kind of girl?” I teased.

“Nope. Two thousand is my absolute max. And that’s if I’m chasing a sale.”

“My friend was obsessed with step goals,” she added. “I never even downloaded the app.”

“Well, Prue’s your karma,” Kate joked. “You got pulled into her orbit for a reason.”

I grinned. “My dad keeps me on a ‘stay-fit’ program. Weekends included.”

I didn’t mention the sparring. Or shifting. Or wolf form. Not a human topic.

“That sounds... intense,” Rose said, eyes wide.

“Nah. I like it.”

We stepped inside the café as the soft ding of the bell welcomed us. It was warm, charming, full of comfy furniture and cinnamon-scented air. The kind of place where people fall in love, start novels, or at least post aesthetic stories.

We claimed the sofas by the window – it was so soft it felt like being swallowed by a marshmallow. I melted into it with a satisfied hum.

“Totally cool,” I said, looking around.

“I know, right? I loved it the first time I came with my parents,” Christina added, pulling off her coat.

We ordered our pumpkin lattes, chocolate slices, and some extra cookies (I snagged a pack for Dad, because of course I did), and spent the next hour talking about life, school, rumors, our hopeless crushes, and existential dread over final exams.

Teenage nonsense, sure. But it felt like the kind of day that would live in the warm folder of my memory forever.

When we finally stepped out into the crisp evening air, wind nipping at our cheeks and noses, I hugged the cookie bag to my chest and smiled. Always thinking about Dad. Always carrying a little warmth home.