Where The Ice Gives Way Chapter 15

**Charlotte**

“I’m fine,” I say quickly, feeling my cheeks heat with embarrassment. Charlie steps in immediately, moving between us like a shield. “She’s fine,” he snaps at Blake. “I’m right here, man. It’s all good. I’ve got her.” Blake’s eyes flick up to Charlie, then back to me, and something hard flashes in them for half a second. Not anger. Something else. Something…He leans back slightly, giving me space, but he doesn’t leave. Charlie grabs my elbow gently and hauls me up like he’s done a thousand times before. I brush snow and dirt off my hands, heart hammering, cheeks burning. “I just tripped,” I mutter, like that explains why my body reacted like I got shot. Charlie keeps his arm around me as we walk to the table. Blake follows close enough that I can feel him behind me, and the cedar and smoke scent keeps threading through the cold air, tangling in my lungs.

Charlie drops onto the bench and immediately starts talking hockey like this is the best moment of his life. He pulls a piece of fruit from his bag and starts eating, smiling as the boys rib him for being new, for trying out, and for after-school practice. I sit beside him and keep my hands in my lap so people can’t see them shaking. Someone asks me a question, but I don’t even register what it is; I smile and nod. The group is loud, and their jokes bounce back and forth like a game of ping-pong. Charlie is in it, fully. He’s happy here, and that happiness makes my throat tighten. He deserves this so much. I watch Charlie bite into his apple and laugh at something Theo says, and I decide without thinking too hard. I lean in close. “Hey,” I murmur. “I’m just going to duck to the bathroom.” Charlie barely looks at me, still smiling, still wrapped up in the moment. “Yeah, all good. I’ll see you after.” I stand and slip away, leaving Charlie to be a normal kid.

The side of the building is quieter, and the wind doesn’t cut as hard here. There’s a narrow strip of concrete between the wall and a garden bed full of dead winter plants. I walk until the noise fades into a dull hum, then I stop and lean back against the bricks. I breathe out slowly, and my stomach growls again as I continue to ignore it. I stare at the ground for a moment, trying to settle my thoughts, trying to settle whatever is happening in my chest. It keeps flaring whenever Blake is close. I’m halfway through convincing myself it’s stress when a shadow falls over the concrete, and I push off the wall quickly, heart jumping. Blake stands there, hands in his pockets, like he’s trying to make himself look casual. “You scared me,” I blurt, because my mouth doesn’t filter fast enough. His brows lift slightly. “Sorry. I didn’t mean to.”

“What are you doing back here?” I ask, still catching my breath. He shifts his weight. “Just… checking on you. You fell pretty hard.”

“I’m fine,” I say again. “I know,” he says, but his eyes don’t match my words. “New school, new town. It’s always a bit daunting, isn’t it?” I let out a small laugh because it’s either that or I cry, and I don’t do that in front of strangers. “Yeah,” I say. “You get used to it after a while… Feeling like an outsider.” Blake’s brows pull together slightly, like that’s not an answer he expected. “How long have you been moving around?” he asks. I shrug and let a puff of air out from my lungs. “A while.” His eyes stay locked on me. There’s something careful in the way he speaks… like he’s choosing every word. He takes a slow breath, then asks, “Do you ever feel like you’re being pulled toward something?”

The question hits like a stone dropped into still water. I open my mouth to answer, but a howl cuts through the air. It’s long and loud, and close enough that my skin prickles. I freeze, and Blake swears under his breath. “Shit.” My eyes snap to his. “Was that a… wolf?” His gaze holds mine for a second intensely, then he nods. “Yeah,” he says. “They’re known around this town.” My stomach drops. “They’re around here?” I watch as Blake’s jaw tightens slightly. “Plenty. Not all of them are good, though.” The words land cold in my already swirling mind. Normal wolves don’t have good and bad. They have wild and hungry or scared and cornered. So what does he mean? Blake steps closer, just enough that the cedar and smoke scent brushes me again, and my chest answers it like it’s been waiting. “You should get inside,” he says, voice firm now. I swallow hard, trying to control my heartbeat. “Why?” He doesn’t answer; he gestures toward the nearest door, as if it’s the safest option. “Come on,” he says. “Please.”

I hesitate, then move, because there’s something in his tone that makes my feet listen even when my head doesn’t. We slip back inside the building, and the noise of lunch rushes in again as if nothing happened. Kids are laughing, lockers slamming, teachers calling out warnings. Blake stops just inside the door, and he looks like he wants to say more. Instead, he says, “Stay close to your brother today.” Then he turns and walks away fast, disappearing down the corridor like he has somewhere he needs to be. I stand there for a second, fingers pressed lightly to my chest, heart still doing its strange, uneven thing. *Not all of them are good.* My eyes drift toward the windows that look out over the oval, over the trees beyond the school fence, over the line where the bush starts and the world becomes darker. Could they be other wolves like Charlie and me? Could there be more of us? I have this nagging feeling Blake knows something I don't.