Monday morning. I sat in the middle of my bed with a very blank expression on my face, almost on the verge of assuming the fetal position and rocking back and forth. I really did not know what was going on, or more so, if what had happened last night at the bonfire was real. I remember quite clearly that Quil had told me he was a werewolf, and that he imprinted on me. Then, I remember I grew a set of balls and kissed him. After that, I remember walking back to the remnants of the bonfire to find basically everyone gone, which led to me being dropped home, where I then fell into a Quil-filled dream.
I think I'm insane. There is no possible way on Earth that werewolves exist. No way. Whatsoever. I mean sure, I dream about them being real, and I wish that supernatural things exist, but that's just what all of that is: dreams and wishes. So, I need to come up with a possible reason for this.
Option one: Quil could be on some type drug. Maybe he does shrooms, or crack. That's a really good answer – there was an article in the paper about teenagers getting more into drugs. Quil doesn't quite strike me as the drug type, though. But who knows – with what has been going on lately, it might be a really good reason. Option two: I could be insane, and I possibly just dreamed this whole thing up. Maybe it was only a dream. No, it felt too real to be a dream. I specifically remember the heat of Quil's body pressed against mine, and the feel of his lips. Dreaming isn't an option. Three: someone slipped me some drugs. That's possible too, but I don't know who would do that, considering I'm alone in my house, and I didn't eat or drink anything at the bonfire last night. Maybe my muffins poisoned me. I doubt my muffins poisoned me. Stupid theory, Claire.
"I'm going freaking insane!" I screeched at no one in particular. Last night I had been extremely calm about the situation, but now I believe I'm just in shock. How should I handle my best friend telling me he's a werewolf? I have no clue, because I'm currently not doing a very good job at it.
I heard someone knocking at my door (at seven in the morning, mind you), so I scrambled out of bed to answer it. I opened the front door to reveal, the one and the only, Quil. I stared at him bug-eyed for a while, before he spoke, looking very uncomfortable.
"Uhm, are you going to let me in?"
I stared at him some more, but moved aside for him to enter the house. He walked into the living room, and took a seat on the couch while I went and sat opposite him on the one of the chairs.
"Claire, why are you staring at me like that?"
"Well, I'm trying to figure out which theory fits the situation."
"Theory?"
"Well, I came up with three, two of which I don't think are possible, but, I'll tell you anyway. First, you are on drugs. I considered mushrooms and crack, so if you are on drugs, feel free to tell me which one and we can work through this. I learned the drug abuse hotline number while taking AP Health last year, and I still remember it. Hopefully you're not too far in, but I mean, maybe you are. Werewolves – that's seems pretty serious to concoct. Your brain cells might be depleting, which therefore leads to you imaging things, and making false proclamations. Well, your proclamation wasn't too public, but who knows, you might have announced you were a werewolf to someone else. You know, I've seen what drugs do to people. You might not have it as bad, but that doesn't mean you don't need help."
He looked at me with a stunned expression and opened his mouth to speak. I stopped him with a hand.
"Second, someone slipped drugs into something that I ate or drank. I considered my muffins, but I don't think I would intentionally drug myself. And, third, I could be insane." This is where the rambling starts. "I mean, come on, there's no way that werewolves exist. It's not possible. It goes against the laws of the world, and everything that is. The thought of a person 'phasing' (I used the air quotes, to further prove a point) into a wolf, as you call it, just does not seem possible. I mean, sure, you're huge, but I guess I can chalk that up to you abusing steroids. And, maybe you just have some temperature dysfunction – that would explain your constant hotness. But werewolves, damn Quil, that's pretty deep. So, right now, I'm really going with option one. Drugs are looking like a strong possibility here. Just remember, I'm here for you, okay? We'll get through this together."
Quil sat staring at me with his mouth slightly open. He looked at me, and then looked out the window, to only look back at me again.
"Uhm, I really don't know what to say to that."
"It's okay. You don't have to say anything. I mean, I know, it's probably a tough situation, considering I just pointed out that you have a drug problem. I know it's probably hard to come to terms with it. But, like I said, I'm here for you Quil. I'll be your support system. We can do this." I gave him a very serious look to hopefully prove that I meant every word I said. I felt a little better. So, Quil was on drugs, and he was high when he told me he was a werewolf, which would also mean he was high when he said he loved me. No matter. I'll deal with that realization later. Right now, I had bigger things to handle.
"Claire, I am not on drugs."
"Yes you are silly. We already established that. Maybe denial is a part of the healing process."
"Claire."
"I don't remember denial being in the book, but maybe I just forgot that piece. Maybe denial is a symptom, I could always call…"
"Claire!"
"Yes, Quil."
"I am not doing drugs, you are not insane, and no one drugged you, including yourself. What I told you last night was true. If I have to prove it to you, then I will. But, stop rambling."
I looked at him again. I narrowed my eyes, got up and attempted to pull him off of the couch.
"Where would you like me to go?"
"Outback. Now"
With that Quil got up and trudged outback, and I followed him.
"Now then, prove to me that you are a werewolf. Go on." I sat on the steps and motioned with my hands to his body.
He sighed, and then walked into the woods. "Where are you going, Quil? See, I knew you were on drugs. You can't prove it, can you? Nope. I told you…" My words were cut short as a giant, chocolate brown wolf stepped out of the spot where Quil entered the woods. Holy shit. The wolf slowly approached me and lowered himself to the ground, only to stare up at me. He has the same eyes as Quil. The wolf nudged my hand with his nose, and I continued to stare at it.
The only thing I remember after that is Quil calling my name over and over again, and darkness.