Prologue
Everyone says being different is a good thing. That standing out will get you far in life, and being your own person is as easy as one- two- three! But what they never tell you is how hard it is to be different in a place where everyone is against it; in a place where everyone is the same. Where I come from, the small, middle- of- nowhere Texas, people stare and whisper as you walk by. They don't set aside differences to make sure everyone has a wonderful high school experience. If you don't follow their lead and do exactly what they say and think exactly as they think, they can make it a living hell. It's not like they try to. They don't wake up every morning as think "Today, I'm going to make Hannah's life utterly miserable." No, far from it. It's just that I'm different. I don't freak out if my parents don't buy me the newest iPhone, and I don't insist on wearing hundreds of dollars of clothing every day to school. Instead of spending my Friday night football games gossiping about which football play did which cheerleader, I'm sitting in the stands, watching the game with my dad. Instead of wasting my lunch break sitting in the cafeteria and spreading malicious rumors about innocent people, I quietly sit in the library and study, so I can get out of here one day.
So when my parents announced that we were leaving this southern version of Beverly Hills, I really wasn't too upset. It's not like anyone would miss me. I didn't even really have friends. I had the type of "friends" that let me sit with them during assemblies, and (with a lot off pity, might I add) would invite me to their social events. I always went, even when I didn't want to. It's not like I didn't like them, it's just that I knew deep down they only tolerated me. I was the quiet girl who spent her weekends sitting in her room, safe from the Texas heat, and reading. I just didn't fit in here. I was too different. But I wasn't the good kind of different either. I wasn't the exciting girl who would dye her hair funky colors or the confident girl who would wear outrageous outfits but still look fabulous in them. I was the bad kind of different. I was different because there was absolutely nothing special about me. I was just Hannah.
My dad's new job (the reason for our move) sure would make me stand out a little, though. I would be the only Caucasian girl to roam the streets of La Push, a Native American reservation in Washington. My dad got a job at the reservation, sort of like being the local handy man. He would just fix whatever needed to be fixed.
I'm not going to lie here, I could never tell if I was excited or nervous about the move. Social anxiety kind of does that to you. I was excited because I would finally be somewhere I always wanted to be. Somewhere it was cold and rainy all the time and—Holy cow, the snow! Don't get me wrong, I love Texas, but I never like the heat. I was nervous because I wouldn't have had a hard time blending in with the background, which is exactly what I wanted to do, at any other high school, but being the only white chick, that would make it hard. I didn't like standing out. I don't like being noticed at school. I just want to go, get my work, then go home to my family and my pets and my books and my writing. I guess I would just have to get used to it, though. I could be strong. I wasn't weak, at least I hoped I wasn't.
Our new house wasn't that bad. It was a two-story house, which was new to me. I had never lived in a two-story before. Though it had an extra floor, it was small. I liked it. It felt comfortable and cozy. There's something about living in a wooden house. The brick houses in Texas all look the same. They were cold, uncomfortable, and tiresome. Maybe I could actually have a home here.
My room was my favorite part. The walls were a dusty rose-pink color. I had never been a particular fan of the color pink, but I actually like it. My new bed was a dark teal, and I had accessories around the room that matched it. The floors were wooden, which would get cold in the winter time, but I could deal. I'll just wear socks all the time. To the left of the bedroom door, was a closet, just big enough for all of my clothes. To the left of the closet was my own bathroom, complete with a toilet, sink, and bathtub! That I could get used to.
Tomorrow was Monday, but thank goodness my parents agreed to give me an extra day or two to get used to my surroundings and unpack. I don't think I could have handled going into school tomorrow. It was December 8th. Starting school in the middle of the year would be difficult. Oh well, at least Christmas break wasn't too far away.
I climbed in between my fresh sheets and inhaled deeply. I would be okay. I would like it here, I promised myself. Even if I had to force myself to. My window was cracked slightly, the rain was slowly and gently pattering down and the wind was blowing. I'm not crazy, I swear, I just love the cold. And growing up in Texas, I didn't get a lot of it. I reached up and turned my lamp off. As darkness engulfed me, I tried to calm the thoughts whirling around in my head like a hurricane. I focused on listening to the wind howling outside.
I was just about to fall asleep when another kind of howling interrupted my drowsiness and awakened my conscience mind.
It was a wolf.
And it sounded close.