This time, Marianna catches my eye and her smile is sympathetic.
She knows my plight and she supports me, but it’s not like she can take a stand against my parents on my behalf.
I wouldn’t want her to, either.
It took them long enough to be okay with her awareness that I’m a girl; we don’t need to repeat that.
Something bumps my foot and I look down to see Burns rubbing his head against my injured ankle.
The throbbing registered a while back, especially when my brothers and I were wrestling.
But as werewolves, we heal pretty quickly, so I didn’t think twice about wrestling.
I forgot about it completely when my brothers joined me and Connor.
Smiling, I pick up my cat and put him in my lap, remembering my revenge plan against Connor.
I casually reach for my cell phone in the back pocket of my pajama pants and put it on silent.
I wait for Andrea to grab his phone under the pretense of taking a picture of the two of them together, like she normally does -honestly, the girl feels the need to document every moment of their life together.
Then I dial his number.
Seconds later, his phone starts ringing a very sleazy tune.
“Who the hell is Melina and why do you have a picture of her boobs?” Andrea suddenly yells.
Her voice breaks through the chatter of everyone else and causes them to fall silent.
“What?” Connor asks as he takes the phone from her.
“Oh, no that’s probably one of these guys playing a prank on me.
They replaced my contacts’ names with a girl’s name and attached a picture to it they found online.” “That’s my bra,” she screams.
“That’s your bed!
That’s my picture on the bedside table!
Who the hell is this girl?
You don’t even have the decency to show her face in the picture!” “No, Andy, I swear,” he frantically says as he starts to panic.
“I don’t know anyone by that name!
This must be some prank!” “Well, it’s one hell of a prank,” she exclaims and storms out of the room yelling curses in Spanish, some of which I understand.
Connor runs after her.
“Andrea, baby, come on!
Wait!” Yeah, sure, they’re not exclusive, I mock him internally, having the time of my life.
When he’s gone, all eyes are on me.
Too late, I realize it’s because I’m still petting Burns as if nothing’s happened.
“What?” I ask innocently.
“That was…” Mason starts saying.
“Genius!” Danny finishes for him.
“Seriously, only you can pull this off, Dyl.” I grin at the praise, and also because he called me Dyl.
The only times my family refers to me by my middle name Dylan is when they’re thinking of me as a girl.
They call me Mickey most of the time, Michael when they’re not happy with me, and Dylan or Dyl when something happens that makes my gender obvious.
To be honest, I live for moments like these, though I would never admit it.
“Why?
Because Michael’s the only one who can wear a bra?” my father scolds sternly.
See what I mean about the name thing?
“Well, I’m going to be 18 in June, so I’m bound to be chesty,” I reply sarcastically.
“Don’t joke about this, Michael,” he scolds again.
He hesitates only a second as his gaze briefly drifts towards Marianna.
“What if somebody saw you taking that picture through the window?
How long do you think it would take before your secret comes out, and before the nearest pack puts two and two together and comes after you?” “Isn’t that kind of far-fetched?” Mason ventures to ask.
“I mean, we’re the only pack within five hundred miles, and even so, we live so far away from civilization that the only time anyone could see Mickey as a girl is at school, and he’s not dumb enough to do that.” “I’m not willing to take such a risk,” Dad retorts, his pupils dilating so much that his eyes are almost black.
“Honey,” Mom calls out to calm him down, recognizing that his temper is rising.
Losing our temper is common for werewolves.
If our outburst is strong enough, we could end up having an attack of emotions and temporarily lose control of our shifting ability.
We all struggle with it, though I personally have yet to blow up in someone’s face.
“It’s alright,” she reassures him.
“It’s just a prank.
Dylan knows to be careful.” When he stares at her, his eyes gradually return to their usual state.
Then he looks at me.
“I’m sorry, Dad,” I say in a small voice, knowing that he’s right, to a certain extent.
Outside, I hear a car door slam shut and a car drive away.
Andrea has left the premises.
He sighs and visibly softens.
“It’s alright, Mickey.
Your mother is right; you do know how to be careful.
I should be showing you that I trust you, not doubting you.” This makes me feel guilty about the college thing.
“It’s your job to worry, Dad.
I understand that.” He smiles at me, and everything’s all right between us again.
“And on a much brighter note,” Nate interjects cheerily, “that was brilliant, Mickey!” “Genius!” Danny repeats.
I smirk at them all, in my head already planning what I would do to them next.
A couple of seconds later, Connor storms into the kitchen, looking furious.
“How the hell could you do something like that, Michael?!” he shouts.
Not the least bit fazed, I simply shrug and say, “Next time, leave Burns out of War Day.”