“Coming Out of the Tent”
By Terry Echoes
He’d made Shannon Connelly cry, the bastard. Nobody messed with Shannon Connelly, because there was no reason to do so. Everybody loved her. She was head of the film club at school, and had the best taste in film. You’d think that’s not objective, but she could make you like any old film and realize it was worth your time. Cody Lodgen dumped all over that, calling her an “AV geek”. That’s why I said what I said to him in the boys’ bathroom seventh period. 
I’d been staring at my own sweating brow, having told the wicked witch who ran my study hall that the cleaning fluid was making me dizzy. She’d wanted me to go to the nurse, but it was almost the end of school, and I didn’t think staring at all the little ants skittering around the linoleum in the nurse’s office would help me with what was really wrong with me. 
I was watching my own complexion turn pale and sweaty. Really, I was staring at my eyes, because they had turned from their usual clear blue to bright yellow to match my blond hair. “Blondie” was my nickname at track, since all the other guys had dark black or brown hair. And it was blond all over, when I changed. 
But back to what I’d said to Cody Lodgen. Cody’s this grubby kid who thinks he’s pretty funny, but nobody else thinks so. Always wearing a flannel shirt like the 90s called and wanted their grunge look back. Maybe it was the beast in me coming out, but when I saw him emerge from a stall, I just rounded on him and said, “You better watch out a wolf doesn’t tear you up into little pieces.” 
“Good,” he’d said. That stopped me cold. “Don’t threaten me with a good time.” 
I thought it was another one of his stupid jokes, but the smile on his face, if you could even call it that, was devoid of life. Sardonic, you might say. And then I noticed his eyes were red, like he was the one who had any right to be crying instead of the people he always insulted. That pissed me right back off again. 
“I mean it,” I said, knowing what I was about to say would’ve sounded stupid had somebody said it to me. “I’m a werewolf, and I can see to it you don’t disrespect people anymore.” Trouble was, it was true. 
Even more troubling, he believed me. I could see it in his silent stance in the wake of what I’d just blurted out. “You’re not joking,” he said. For a kid who’s so insensitive to the feelings of others, he could be uncannily observant. 
I turned back to the mirror to glare at my own reflection some more. “Get lost,” I told him. 
He crossed his arms and leaned against the sink next to mine, invading my personal space. “Not until I get to see you wolf out,” he said. 
So it was that early our senior year, just after the last waning days of summer and the first autumn leaves peppered the streets, there was that burst in my chest of something new, something I hadn’t considered before, like a new spring at the end of the year, as I confided in somebody I’d thought was a jerk and an asshole. 
No, I had to shrug that off. He was still a creep. 
“Your eyes,” he said, his voice shaky for the first time I’d heard it. 
He didn’t need to elaborate. I looked in the mirror. They were yellow again. They must have blinked back to blue before, but now he could see them just as clear as could I. I leaned in closer to my reflection and studied my face. Were my teeth getting bigger? 
I could tell Cody was getting nervous. It took me a couple seconds to realize I could smell it. The scent of anticipatory fear, with its faintly acrid, cowing scent, like a leaf trembling in a storm. At first I thought he was afraid of me, and well he ought to have been, but his posture dictated otherwise. He kept glancing between myself and the bathroom door, as if at any moment someone might walk in on us and see me transform as I had that first night. He wasn’t afraid of me, he was afraid for me, and that bit of sympathy I never would have expected from him. 
“You better not tell anyone,” I said, “or the last thing you see will be me ‘wolfing out’.” 
“Hey, you don’t need to worry about me,” he said, and now a fraction of his fear was directed at me. “Just…I’m so curious. Do you become a proper wolf, anthropomorphic, or just hairy like a cheap B movie? How did you become a werewolf? How did this start?” 
My gut was aching, telling me not to tell him a damn thing, but my mouth just needed to go over it. To think over everything out loud. 
“I look like a wolf standing on two legs,” I said. “The first time it happened was about a month ago, but it’s not a full moon thing, though I suppose the first time it was. I was camping over the weekend with a friend. I wake up with this horrible pain and this uncomfortable tickling sensation. I think it’s nothing, maybe I’d been sleeping on a branch or something, but I realize something’s wrong and flick on my flashlight. 
“I’m covered in fur all over, and I’ve got a goddamn tail. I start freaking out, and the rest becomes a blur.” I shot him a dead-serious look. “I didn’t maul anyone, if that’s what you’re wondering.” 
He simply shook his head, then said, “I take it your friends didn’t find out.” 
“No, thank God.” 
“I guess now you came outta the tent, so to speak.” 
I glared at him. He had this stupid grin on his face which quickly disappeared. 
“Though I won’t tell anyone,” he said, gesturing over his heart. “But you still never told me how you became a werewolf.” 
I let out the perfect exasperated sigh. “That’s the thing,” I said. “I don’t know how I became…what I am. Nobody bit me or anything. Ever since then, random nights, I feel the change come over me, grow yellow fur, and I sneak out to the woods just in case. I can’t figure it out.” 
We were both quiet for a few seconds, until Cody said in a quiet voice, “Could it be hereditary?” 
I frowned at my reflection in the mirror. “I think I’d know if my parents were werewolves.” 
“Not if they can control their change at will. You should ask them about it.” His words faltered toward the end, as if he knew how awkward such a conversation will be. I didn’t even need to respond. “Or don’t bring it up directly. Try to mention werewolves on the sly. It’s almost Halloween. Plenty of opportunity for it to come up.” 
I frowned at my reflection once more. Now it looked like the saddest expression I’d ever donned on my face. My feelings were congealing into something unrecognizable, some sort of monster altogether unfamiliar to me. One thing I was certain of, was that Cody had had the best idea I’d heard of all month. 
I looked at him again like he was the new kid in school. I pushed away from the sink and avoided eye contact. “I guess it’s worth a try. I’ll, um, see you tomorrow.” 
Cody gave a tiny little wave with his fingers, and this time the smile on his face, although small, was genuine. “See you tomorrow, Sean,” he said.