Page 35 of Who Let The Wolves Out?

CHAPTER 13

ALICE

Ifeel the shift before I see it.

It’s like a storm that never hits—just hangs over you, low and heavy and electric. Jason’s here, but he’s not. He moves through the day like a reflection, all the same jokes and smirks, but something underneath is missing.

And it’s my fault.

I keep catching him across the lawn, or at the end of a mess hall bench, or standing at the edge of a campfire circle. Every time, it’s the same. He looks like he’s waiting for something, but not from me anymore.

Because I already told him what I had to say.

I told him I was scared. That I didn’t know how to trust myself. That maybe the kiss—thekisses—were too much too soon. And then I walked away.

And now?

Now he’s walking too. Just in the opposite direction.

I’m supposed to be helping plan the end-of-session campfire sendoff with Julie, but I can’t focus. The paper in front of me is blank. I’ve been staring at it for fifteen minutes while pretending I’m sketching ideas.

Julie’s in a back office, probably dealing with another report from Aisla or prepping for tomorrow’s parent packets. I should be relieved that she’s not hovering, but instead I just feel... untethered.

“Need help brainstorming?” a voice says behind me.

I flinch—too hard—and then Jason’s there.

Holding a box of graham crackers.

He’s not smiling like he used to. It’s smaller now, like he’s trying not to expect too much from me.

“Oh. Uh. Sure.” I motion vaguely to the blank page. “I’ve got... absolutely nothing.”

He nods once and sets the box down. “We could do the usual. Skits, songs, s’mores.”

“Yeah.”

A beat.

Silence blooms.

Then he clears his throat. “I’m making the fire that night. I got Nolan to help. He insists it be ‘dragon approved.’”

I try to smile. “That sounds cute.”

“Yeah.”

Another pause.

I hate this. The awkward. The space. The way everything feels like it’s been unplugged but we’re still pretending the current’s running.

He looks at the list again. Doesn’t sit. Doesn’t stay.

“Well. Let me know if you think of anything,” he says.

And just like that, he’s gone.

I stare at the graham cracker box and feel like crying.

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