To say I was grounded would be an understatement.

Uncle Paul found me. He went out looking for us, after Jordan found him and my parents and told them what was going on. Rachel and Cassie ran straight back to the school, while Marco and Tobias emerged on the far side of the parking lot. We all managed to make it out before the Yeerks torched the Andalite, and all evidence that he had been there, along with a third of Death Town.

The official story was, a gas leak had found a bum's campfire or something. None of the papers mentioned any of us, and none of our parents thought to mention our dipshit antics to anyone who put two and two together. I thought for a while that somehow, being the DA's youngest, I'd manage to make it into the local paper eventually. If I had any money worth mentioning, I'd bet Mom pulled some strings and managed to keep us all out of the news.

I got shouted at and grounded. From what I heard, Tobias' grandmother was pretty chill about it, Marco's dad wouldn't have cared if you'd paid him to, and Cassie just had to promise she'd never do something so reckless again. Rachel, on the other hand, disappeared into Serial Killers 'R Us and came out bruised, dirty, and missing her top. Uncle Paul is the kind of dad who suddenly needs to clean his guns whenever his daughters bring a guy over, and Rachel doesn't make excuses for anything, so you can imagine how her punishment went.

Tom laughed himself sick. He thought it was hilarious we'd almost gotten blown up looking for Tobias, and all the trouble Rachel and I got into for trying to do the right thing. Marco, Rachel, and I never told him what really happened. He wouldn't have believed us if we did, and honestly? We didn't quite believe our stories, either.

In hindsight, we were fucking lucky. But it didn't feel like it at the time. After the concussion, the lectures (from Mom, Dad, and Uncle Paul), and thirty straight days of no phone or Internet, I'd almost convinced myself it was all a dream. A hallucination, brought on from overexposure to some unknown, natural gas. After all, that was what everyone said had happened. What reason did I have to disbelieve it?

The answer, it turned out, was Rachel. I was out in the front yard, mowing the grass as part of my punishment, when she came literally skipping up the sidewalk. I waved her over, stopped the mower, and stretched my arms.

"Uncle Paul finally letting you see daylight?"

She was grinning, ear to ear. "I morphed Chance."

I stopped mid-stretch. Chance was her dog. Well, not her dog. Chance was a malinois, trained from a puppy to serve as part of the new K-9 units the city had created a few years back. Uncle Paul and Chance were on the streets nearly every night, chasing down bad guys and serving the community. Rachel was very proud.

"I'm sorry." I crossed my arms and stared at her. "You did what?"

"I morphed him," Rachel said. "Like Elfangor said. I was feeding him this morning, thinking about what the Andalite said, and I figured I'd try it out. And it worked."

"Bullshit."

"Nope."

I stared at her. She was still grinning like a fool. "Bullshit," I said again.

"Jake," Rachel said, "Have I ever lied to you?"

I had to say no. Rachel is honest, often painfully so. That didn't mean she was telling the truth, though. "Are you sure you didn't, like…dream it, or something?"

Rachel rolled her eyes. "Seriously?"

"It's plausible. I mean, that explosion -"

"You were the one who hit your head, Jake," Rachel told me. "Not I."

"Yeah," I responded. "And I don't remember anything after that. And what I do remember, I don't want to. Spaceships and evil slugs and -"

"Elfangor."

I blinked. Rachel spoke again. "And the Andalite. Elfangor. Do you want to forget him, too?"

"I -"

"Because he and his people died trying to protect us, Jake." she continued. "The Andalites gave their lives fighting an enemy no one has even heard of, and Elfangor's last act was to give us the ability to defend ourselves. And we've spent the past month just sitting on our asses pretending he didn't. So I'll ask again, cousin. Do you want to forget Elfangor?"

"No," I replied. "No, I don't."

"Good."

There was an awkward silence. We both kind of stared at the lawn for a minute, trying to avoid looking at each other. Finally, I said, "So, you're positive, then? You actually morphed Chance?"

Rachel nodded. I sighed. "Okay. We can morph. Now what?"

"Well," Rachel said. "Now, I guess we figure out what we're going to do. How we're going to approach this."

"What do you think we should do?"

Rachel shrugged. "I've thought about it, but I don't know where to start. How about you?"

I thought for a moment. "Elfangor said the Andalites morphed to spy on the Yeerks, right? So, maybe we should try and figure out what morphs would be best for that?"

"Like what?"

"I dunno. Birds or something."

Rachel grinned. "That'd be fun."

"But, we need to learn how," I said. "So, how'd you do it?"

"I…" Rachel stopped. "I just...I was feeding Chance this morning, thinking about what the Andalite said. You know, about concentrating? And so, I started petting him, and I was focusing on his fur, and his ears and face. And…"

"And?"

Rachel shook her head. She seemed frustrated. "It's difficult to describe. Can I just show you?"

I sighed again. "Fine. But, not out here. Let me talk to Mom."

We started walking towards my house. "Where's Jordan?" I asked her.

"She's at home," Rachel said.

"You didn't show her?"

"No."

That was weird. Rachel and Jordan were pretty close, and Tom and I never found out something about one that the other didn't already know. I opened the front door and held it for Rachel. "Why not?"

"I just didn't, okay?"

"Alright." I motioned inside. "After you." Rachel moved past me, and I shut the door behind us.

Mom was in the kitchen, reading several things from a mess of notebooks. She was listening to music on an iPod, with headphones on, her unspoken signal for not wanting to be disturbed. Officially, she doesn't work weekends, but she's never been shy about bringing her work home with her. My family didn't mind, too much. She made herself unavailable from six o'clock Saturday morning to around noon, and then the rest of the weekend was hers. And we always made it a point to go out for dinner and a movie on Saturday nights with my cousins and uncle.

I waved to get Mom's attention. She looked up from her work and removed her headphones. "Hello, Jake. Did you get the yard done?" She smiled when Rachel walked in. "Hello, Rachel. Is Paul finally letting you see daylight?"

Rachel winked at her. Mom winked back. Uncle Paul was my mom's younger brother, and from watching them interact, I was glad my older sibling was not a sister. My parents were strict, but when it came to my cousins, Rachel and Jordan could get away with murder, for no other reason than so Mom could annoy my uncle. "Payback for putting up with him as a kid," Mom told Tom and I when we asked about it, though we never found out any specifics. But, apparently, I was not living up to my Asshole Little Brother potential.

Before everything, my family was close. It...it was nice.

Mom said to us, "Rachel, Jake is still grounded. He's not allowed to have friends over."

This was true. "I know, Mom. But, Rachel said she had something to show me."

Mom looked over at Rachel. "His sentence isn't over for another week. It can wait."

"Please, Aunt Reyna?" Rachel said. "It's important."

"Why?" Mom asked.

"Because…" Rachel paused to think for a minute. That was a mistake; Mom used to be a prosecutor. She saw an opening, and seized it. "Does your father know about it?"

Rachel cocked her head. "No?"

"Does your sister?"

"No."

Mom blinked. Like I said, Rachel hiding things from Jordan was unusual. "Can you tell me?"

Rachel shook her head. "No."

Mom glared at her. "What on Earth could possibly -"

"I'm pregnant."

Mom and I both stared at her. Rachel shrugged. "That was it. Now you both know."

I looked at Mom. Then, at Rachel. Then, at Mom. Then, back at Rachel. Finally, after a very long moment, Mom just shook her head and laughed. "Fine. Don't tell me. Jake, you get an hour."

"Thanks, Mom." I went upstairs to my room. Rachel followed me. Behind us, Mom put her headphones back on and returned to work.

I was fortunate enough to live in a house where closed doors were respected. Today, I was grateful for that rule. After Rachel was safely inside, I closed and locked the door behind her. My room didn't have a lot in it; there was my bed, a desk with my computer on it for gaming and homework, and my closet that held my clothes, and a small TV Marco and I managed to sneak home when our school decided all of their "advanced education devices" needed replacing. I turned around and sat on my bed, then immediately looked away when Rachel started pulling her clothes off.

"Rachel, what the hell?!"

"Look," she said, "when I did this before, I shredded my bra. Okay? Don't make it weird."

"You already made it weird!" I said.

"Deal with it." She kicked her clothes towards the door. "And keep your voice down."

I found a spot on the wall and stared at it. "Fine. Hurry up and morph."

"Jake."

"What?"

"You-" I heard her sigh. "You have to watch, Jake."

"I'm good."

"You're being a fucking putz, can you just watch, please."

"I don't see why," I told her, "this has to involve me seeing my cousin naked."

"Jake!"

"Fine. Fucking fine." I turned my head back towards her, and locked my gaze with her angry glare. "Hurry up."

Rachel rolled her eyes. "Dumbass." She crossed her arms and took a breath. "Okay. Here I go."

She closed her eyes, and took another breath. For a second, nothing happened. I started to say something, and then, I saw she hadn't shaved her legs in a few days. No, a few weeks. Or...ever?

No, I wasn't seeing things. Short, fuzzy hairs were growing straight out of her legs, her forearms, then all across the rest of her body. Her nudity soon stopped mattering as her form was covered in what I realized was actual fur. And as the fur grew, her long, blonde hair withdrew into her scalp. Her head sucked her hair in like a fat, happy kid slurping up spaghetti noodles.

"Jesus."

Rachel opened her eyes, and then, her nose and jaw stretched and twisted into a very canine-looking about. Her eyes grew bigger, more circular and dark, and her ears moved up the sides of her head and grew into points. Her hands and feet shrank and formed into paws. Her shins and forearms narrowed into doggy legs, and her knees reversed direction.

For a moment, she looked liked a werewolf. Or, an amateur artist's idea of a fursona. She suddenly fell forward, towards me. I reached out to catch her, but she was heavy, and forced me onto my back as she landed on top of me. We fell onto the bed.

I felt warm fur under my hands. A rough, wet tongue started licking my face. I shoved Rachel off of me and sat up. And, where my cousin had stood not sixty seconds before, sat her dog, Chance the malinois.