About Friday

We walk together toward our lockers, three different personalities threaded into one friendship that somehow works. Tara talks about cheer practice. Lizzie mentions a test in chemistry. I listen, half-present, because my wolf keeps brushing against the edge of my thoughts like she's restless.

June's attention flicks down the hallway.

Sandra, she murmurs.

Sandra is watching us.

Not openly—she knows better—but her minions' eyes follow us like little cameras, catching every movement.

Tara notices too. Her smile turns sharp. "Ugh. Queen B and her court."

Lizzie's shoulders tense.

Sandra's favorite pastime is finding someone's insecurity and pressing until it bleeds.

She's tried it on Lizzie a few times. Whispered comments. Social traps. Smirks when Lizzie answers a question in class. Little things that add up until they feel big.

I warned Sandra once. Just once.

The next time one of her minions "accidentally" knocked Lizzie's books out of her arms, Sandra had stared at me like she was testing the edge of a blade.

Then she'd backed off.

Coward.

Or smart.

Maybe both.

"Don't look at them," I tell Lizzie quietly. "She feeds on attention."

Lizzie nods, swallowing.

Tara rolls her eyes. "If she comes near us today I swear—"

"You'll do what?" I ask, amused.

Tara grins. "I'll ruin her mascara."

June snorts. Violence. I like it.

Not that kind of violence, I reply, but my mouth twitches.

Classes drag. Humans complain about homework like it's oppression. A vampire in my English class stares out the window like the sun personally offended him. A witch doodles symbols in her notebook and pretends it's geometry.

By lunchtime, my patience is frayed.

⸻

The cafeteria is loud in the way only a high school cafeteria can be—chairs scraping, laughter bouncing off the walls, too many conversations competing at once.

I barely have time to scan the room before strong arms wrap around my waist from behind.

"Got you."

I yelp—pure reflex—as my feet leave the ground.

"MATTHEW!" I shout, instinctively elbowing backward.

He laughs and tightens his grip just long enough to make a point before setting me back on my feet like I weigh nothing. "Relax, KitCat. You're getting slow."

I spin around, glaring up at him. "You're lucky I didn't break your nose."

Matt grins down at me, unapologetic. He's tall—quarterback tall—with an easy confidence that comes from being both popular at school and completely secure in his place in the pack. Dark hair, familiar eyes, and that stupidly charming smile he's had since we were kids.

My favorite cousin.

Robbie's younger brother.

"Missed you too," he says.

I shove him lightly in the chest. "You're an ass."

"Runs in the family."

June is amused. I like this one. He doesn't try to dominate.

That's because he knows better, I reply.

Tara appears beside him like she was summoned by his presence, her expression hovering somewhere between annoyed and pleased. "You almost dropped her, idiot."

"I did not," Matt says. "I had it under control."

I raise an eyebrow. "Since when?"

He chuckles and drapes an arm around Tara's shoulders like it's the most natural thing in the world. She doesn't push him away. She doesn't lean in either.

Interesting.

I glance between them. "So," I say casually, "are you two on or off this week?"

Tara rolls her eyes. "Cat—"

Matt cuts in smoothly, flashing Tara a sideways grin. "Well," he says, voice dropping just enough to be suggestive, "I'm definitely on if Tara's in the mood."

Tara swats his chest, laughing despite herself. "You're impossible."

"But charming," he replies.

"Debatable," I say.

Matt grins at me. "You love me."

I do. He's been my partner in crime since we were kids—training together, sneaking out, covering for each other when pack politics got annoying. He's never treated me like something fragile or something to conquer.

Just... Cat.

He nods toward our trays. "Sit with us?"

"Obviously," I say.

As we move toward an open table, I feel that familiar sense of ease settle in my chest. This—this—is pack. Not hierarchy. Not power plays.

Just people who know you.

June hums contentedly.

When the final bell rings, I'm halfway to my car when Tara hooks her arm through mine.

"So," she says, sing-song. "About Friday."

My stomach drops.

Lizzie appears on my other side like an accomplice. "Tara already booked everything."

I close my eyes. "Everything?"

Tara beams. "Everything."

June purrs. This is how we die.

I open my eyes and stare at my best friends.

"Just think, you might find the perfect human guy who can finally pop your cherry", she winks.

"Oh, my Goddess, shut up Tara, someone might hear. There are wolves here"

Tara is laughing out loud. "You are such a prude sometimes".

Wolves are naturally sexual animals. It's not like I have a holy reason to save myself. I just haven't found a guy tempting enough to rock my world.

"No, no, no! don't you dare to bail on us girl", Tara looks at me sternly and continues.

"Fine," I mutter. "But if I end up in heels again, I'm blaming both of you."