Hateful by Eden Beck

Chapter Twenty-Two

In my haste toprotect myself, I might have just left myself more exposed than ever.

Something thumps into me, jolting me awake. I groan and roll over to see my running shoes, cleaner than they’ve ever been, tumbling off me and onto the floor. Rafael stands by the door to the dorm with his arm out as if he’s just flung them—which he probably did, judging by how hard they hit me.

“What?” I mumble, sitting up and picking one up off the ground. I turn it this way and that, examining it. “How?”

“They were sitting outside,” Rafael replies. “It’s past noon, by the way. I brought you some lunch.” He holds up a white paper bag and a bottle of water. “It’s just a sandwich.”

“Thanks.” I rub my eyes as he approaches and sets the bag on my nightstand. It takes a few minutes for everything that happened yesterday to settle in.

When it finally floods back in, I can’t stifle a second, louder groan and cover my face with my hands. I’d come back here right after meeting with Headmistress Robin. I still haven’t been able to face any possible repercussions of Beck’s prank on me, but I know it can’t wait forever.

I pry two fingers apart and peek at Rafael between them.

“So tell me the truth,” I say, “does everyone know I’m a girl?”

Rafael shakes his head, but he can’t hide the smile pulling at the corner of his mouth. “No. You’re a laughingstock, but you’re a male laughingstock, as far as they know. Everyone’s tittering about your tighty-whities.”

Heat rises to my cheeks. “I can’t exactly wear panties.”

“No, but you could wear boxer-briefs.” Rafael plops himself down on his bed.

I find I’m suddenly able to sit up. Everything isn’t lost after all.

“They feel weird.”

I have to take a deep breath, my eyes scanning the walls and windows for a second as the reality settles back in. I might have acted a little rashly last night.

Nothing has actually changed.

No thanks to Beck.

Rafael grunts as he sits cross-legged on his bed, facing me, his hands in his lap. “Eat,” he says, inclining his head to the bag on my nightstand.

“I’m not hungry.”

“You’ve been asleep for twenty hours.”

Startled, I snap my head to look at him. “What?”

He nods. “When I came in after the incident, you were gone. I went out to find you …” A stab of guilt runs through me as I realize that I was probably breaking into the records room for the headmistress at that point. “… But I couldn’t, so I came back to wait for you here. You were asleep.”

I look at the clock. I vaguely remember waking up at some point in the night last night, tossing and turning while guilt racked my stomach. I don’t remember falling asleep again.

“Eat,” Rafael says, pointing at the sandwich a second time.

I reach for the bag and pull out the sandwich. It’s simple, just ham and cheese on white bread, but I end up scarfing it down. I’m hungrier than I realized. I grab the water bottle and chug the entire thing like I spent the night before at the pub in the village, not holed up in here under an enormous pile of blankets.

Rafael watches me impassively. When I’m done, I shove the empty bottle back into the bag.

“So—did you get my shoes cleaned?”

“Are you deaf? I told you they were outside the door.”

I frown. “Who would’ve done that?”

“Who knows? Beck maybe?”

That makes me snort. “Right.” I sigh and fall back on my bed. “I need to go ahead and go for a run before it gets too late.”

“Are you serious?” Rafael snaps, startling me. “You’re going to go for a run today? After everything that happened?”

I shrug. “What else am I gonna do? Hide in the dorm? I have to leave this room eventually to go to class; might as well get it over with.” My outside calm belies my inner turmoil. I’m scared shitless, wracked with anxiety. Sure, nobody realized my lack of a penis, but everyone saw my underwear. I’m not even sure if it was obvious that it was the pants at fault.

But that’s not really what I’m worried about.

I keep thinking about what happened after.

Rafael sighs heavily and reaches for the novel on his bedside table. “Alex, I don’t understand you. Go for your stupid run if you have to.” He lays down on his back and opens the book above him. “Just remember to stay hydrated.”

I sit up. “Do you wanna come with?”

Without looking at me, and with the flattest tone I’ve ever heard, he replies, “I would rather slice open my stomach and tie myself down with my own entrails.”

“No need to be so gruesome,” I say, getting up to start putting on my running clothes.

“Just telling the truth.”

I slip my feet into my newly cleaned shoes and head for the door.

It’s nearing the end of the school year, I realize as I jog out toward my usual trail. It’s springtime, heading into summer. The weather is really warm. Absently, I wonder if I’ll keep up this running thing when I go home. I’ve come to enjoy it, and I don’t want to lose my progress before I come back in the fall.

For the first time since the incident yesterday, I feel a true swell of relief.

When I come back.For a moment there, I really thought this was all over. I really thought I was going to be expelled.

It’ll be a lonely run today, but I know I’m up for it. Heath can die in a fire for all I care. I ran alone when I first started—I can run alone again.

I’ve had enough of boys whose balls seem to disappear each time it matters the most.

I make my way to the first bend in the trail, come around the corner … and freeze in my tracks.

Heath looks up from his phone. An uneasy smile stretches across his face when he sees me.

“Hey,” he says quietly. “I was starting to wonder if you’d show.”

My hands curl into fists. “What the fuck are you doing here?”

He must have been waiting here for hours.

He tucks his phone into his pocket and raises his hands. “I just wanted to apologize.”

Even though I’m slightly surprised, it’s not enough to banish the anger that wells up inside me. He knew. He knew.

At least Jasper tried to warn me. He might not have tried hard enough, but at least he tried.

Heath just let it happen.

“Uh, I don’t think that’s gonna be enough,” I snap, taking a half step back, considering heading back to school.

“I cleaned your shoes for you and left them outside your dorm,” he says hurriedly, his gaze following mine and probably guessing my thoughts. “I wanted to make it up to you! I still do.”

“Make it up to me?” I say, staring blankly at him. Something about his perfect, angelic face makes my temper rise—and with it, my voice. “You could have prevented it from happening in the first place!”

I’m so loud that birds launch themselves from a nearby tree and flap noisily away, cawing indignantly.

Heath gapes at me for a second. “I couldn’t! The Brotherhood—”

“Oh, fuck The Brotherhood!” I snarl. “Who gives a shit what happens to me as long as your precious Brotherhood maintains its image, right? Go to hell, Heath.”

“Alex!”

I turn away from him, but rather than running back towards the school, I take off running down the trail. This last day has been too much. I’m used to being pushed around by these boys, but yesterday they went too far.

Yesterday they risked everything for me. More, quite possibly, than anything before.

And then I took a risk as well, a risk that I’ve only just begun to realize might be the worst mistake of all.

So, I run from all of that. I run from the school. I run from Headmistress Robin and the entire Brotherhood. Most of all, right now, I run from Heath … and I know he won’t catch me. I know I’m faster than him.

But I can still hear him chasing me.

“Alex, wait!” he yells, sounding miserable, but I tune him out and keep running at a full sprint, my feet pelting the dirt of the trail. I leap over roots, over bushes. When the trail curves, I curve with it. I’m flying along, leaving Heath in my dust, hearing his plaintive cries recede further and further back as I go.

And then there’s something else to listen to.

A single piercing howl splits through the air. I jerk to a stop, my momentum making me slide on the dirt a little. More howls, their sound distinct and unmistakable.

I guess it’s finally time to meet the wolves everyone’s been going on about.

Another howl sounds off somewhere close. My heart thumps hard and fast in my chest, beating against my ribcage like it’s trying to escape. I look around. I can’t see any of them. Where are they?

I know I can outrun Heath … but can I outrun wolves?

I hear snarling. They’re somewhere on the trail behind me. If I can find a way to loop around that section, then maybe—

My eyes widen as a thought strikes me to my core. Heath is also behind me. And he’s alone. And slower than I am. How many wolves are there?

Before I have any more time to think, there’s a snarl, then another howl further back on the trail, and my body moves without me directing it. I lurch for the edge of the trail and snatch up a long stick. What am I going to do with this? I have no clue. I don’t know how to fight wildlife. I don’t know how to defend anyone from wolves.

I don’t even know how to defend myself.

I run blindly back up the trail, retracing my steps as best as I can with my own heart beating so hard I swear it’s going to give out. Heath knows my route. He would’ve been following me, I’m sure. I can hear the wolves’ sounds getting louder—but this time, they’re accompanied by a new sound.

A human sound.

A terrified, strangled sound that makes me sick.

It’s Heath. And he’s screaming.

I get to where I last saw him, but he’s not on the trail. He must have tried to take a shortcut to cut me off.

I pause for a moment, listening, heart pounding in my ears.

The momentary screams have stopped, but I don’t know if that’s a good thing or not. I think I hear footsteps, a twig snapping in the underbrush. Wielding my near-useless stick, I creep closer to the edge of the trail and squint through the trees, hoping that I’m wrong, that the wolves aren’t attacking Heath.

Hoping for the first time that this is all some elaborate prank by the rest of The Brotherhood.

But there’s another snarl, another non-human snarl, and it sounds close.

I turn in that direction and run off the trail, my feet carrying me where every other part of my body is screaming for me not to go. The growls and rough footsteps get louder.

I burst through the underbrush into a clearing. Heath lies on the ground with his arms protectively over his head. Two wolves crouch along the edge of the trees and stalk toward him.

I don’t wait to find out why Heath isn’t running. There isn’t time for that. The wolves look like they’re right about to lunge, their eyes greedily fixed on Heath’s exposed neck.

I just open my mouth and scream, raising my stick high.

The wolves are startled, but not as startled as I am when a third leaps out of the bushes toward me. My eyes widen as I take in the blur of its form. I don’t think I ever realized just how big wolves are. I’ve seen them in pictures and movies, but never up close; not even in a zoo. The one sprinting toward me with its lip curling and its teeth bared has a head as big as my torso.

Its snout alone is longer than my head. Its massive paws pound the ground as it rushes toward me, each of its teeth as long as my fingers, its claws digging into the dirt.

I scream and wave my stick at it. The wolf dodges under the stick, corrects its course, and slides to a stop.

“Alex?” Heath asks confusedly, his head lolling to the side as if he’s struggling to keep it upright—though out of fear or injury, I can’t tell.

Has he already been bitten? Did he break something while running?

I don’t know. The thoughts, the possibilities, are shooting through my head like a confusing whirlwind.

“Busy right now!” My voice comes out high-pitched and panicky, but it startles the wolf, and it takes a step back. I keep waving my stick like a sword in front of me, the wolf’s eyes watching it closely until, to my great relief, it starts to back slowly away.

Heath whimpers and ducks his head again as the two wolves near him snap their jaws. I yell some more, wave my arms, and brandish my stick until they look over at me instead. I must look like some sort of crazy harpy.

Now I have three wolves stalking toward me with bared teeth. I don’t know how I expected that to go, but here I am.

“Get!” I shout, jerking my arms around. I feel like one of those inflatable things with weird noodle arms that sit outside car dealerships, flapping in the wind. I used to love those things as a kid. I wonder if they’re terrified like this every single day of their life.

Stop thinking about stupid shit,I tell myself firmly. Is that really the last thing you want to be thinking about before you die?

“Get!” Heath yells, his voice mingling with my own as I shout out a second time.

The sound of it makes me glance back in his direction.

The wolves have turned their attention from him now, and he’s managed to get a stick half the length of mine in his hand. He springs to his feet and whacks one of the wolves on the butt.

“No, don’t!” I cry, but he’s already done it. The wolf whirls on him and snarls so loud I think there’s a lion nearby. “You have to scare it off. You can’t actually hit it.”

I keep waving my arms—and the stick—above my head, trying to look like something these creatures aren’t readily going to try to make a snack out of. I must’ve read something about this somewhere. I don’t know if it’s what I’m supposed to do … but it does seem to be working.

Heath’s eyes flick from the wolves—who have now stopped snarling and are just regarding me with interest—to me, ridiculous as I may look. To my surprise he copies me without question, throwing out his arms and staring down at the wolf he hit before.

It takes a few moments, but that wolf stops snarling, too. Now we’re all just motionless in a clearing. No big deal. I’m just having a standoff with some wolves.

Just another day, really.

I take a step back and this time, the wolves don’t follow. They continue to watch me almost suspiciously. There’s a spark of intelligence in their eyes. They’re gorgeous creatures, I have to admit, though I’m terrified of them. My heart thumps even as I take in the pretty golden color of their eyes and the thick white fur of their bellies. Absurdly, I want to pet them, which I realize is of course out of the question.

One by one, they lower their tails.

“Start backing up, Heath,” I say in a hushed tone. One wolf’s ears pricks up when I speak, so I drop my voice even lower.

Heath takes a slow, deliberate step back. The wolf in front of him does nothing. I take a step back. The wolves in front of me do nothing.

“Okay,” I whisper. “Let’s just … back up.”

Heath nods, his eyes still focused on the wolf in front of him. I begin walking backward very slowly, feeling the way with my feet so I don’t run into a tree or something. Is it okay if I look away to glance over my shoulder? Better not, just to be safe.

Ahead of me, Heath is backing away from his own wolf, but in a different direction from me. I decide I’ll circle around to find him once we’re safe.

I back my way out of the clearing, carefully avoiding the trees as I do, and the wolves stay where they are. After a while, they simply turn and walk off, mouths open, tongues lolling out. Heath’s wolf follows the two that were on me.

We’re in the clear. We’re safe.

And then Heath does something stupid.

I don’t know why the whole Brotherhood is this way. Did they learn it from each other? Were they always like this? Are their parents like this? What is it that makes them think the things they do are good ideas?

Heath grins as the wolf turns around.

“Yeah, that’s right!” he shouts. “You better run!” And he jabs at the wolf with his stick.

Incensed, the wolf whirls and snaps, catching the stick in his teeth. Heath screams in horror as the wolf’s teeth easily splinter the wood.

And then the other two are on him.

It all happens so fast. Everything was just fine, and now three wolves pounce on Heath. I feel a scream rip through my throat as I run toward him, back into the clearing, swinging my stick like a sword and scooping up rocks as I go.

“Get out of here!” I yell, smacking whatever part of the wolves I can reach. The wolves are grey blurs. They’re so fast. I don’t know if I’m doing any damage to them at all.

Heath meanwhile falls back, and it’s only then that I see his twisted ankle. He can’t run. I don’t know how he was even putting enough weight on it before to back away.

We won’t be able to pull that trick again.

I throw a rock at the nearest wolf and it hits him square on the nose. With a yelp, the wolf falls back. The other two leap away from Heath to protect their friend.

I jump in front of Heath’s crumpled form and try not to think of all the blood I see around him while I frantically wave my stick about. He’s already been bitten.

“Get away from us!” I scream at the wolves, not even sure what I’m saying. “Go on! Go back! We’re leaving! Just let us leave!”

One wolf snarls and advances, but one of my wild swings catches him in the face and he flinches back. All three of them seem to think it over and collectively decide I’m too much trouble. They turn and lope away into the bushes, their bloody prize left for another day.

I continue waving and shouting for a few more seconds just in case, but they don’t come back. I’m exhausted. My heart pounds. My throat burns from all the screaming. I lower my arms and turn to look at Heath.

He looks almost folded in on himself. Blood covers him and his clothing, smears his face, and trickles down onto the ground where it’s already starting to pool around him. I see a dark, bloody mess of flesh on his upper thigh, but I don’t know if that’s the only place he’s been bitten.

His half-closed eyes stare dully into the middle distance.

“Heath?” My voice comes out in a hoarse whisper as I collapse to my knees and take his face in my hands.

His eyelids flutter as his eyes focus and find my face.

“Oh, thank God,” I gasp. “Heath? Are you okay?”

Heath stares up at me vacantly for a few moments, his mouth working, his breath rattling. I stare down at him and cradle his head in my lap. He twitches his hand toward me. Finally, he speaks only two words.

“It hurts.”

And those two words are more than enough. I know what I have to do next.