From the age that Franklin Fogarty could understand anything, his aunt always told him to stay clear of Fox Forest. She would sit him on her knees, speaking about how the Forest on the other side of the tracks, the forest near where all the people with a lot of money lived, seemed to be inviting and fun, but to be wary of it always. Never go into it alone, she'd say.

"But what about the forests behind our house" Franklin would ask. House was overstating it. The Fogarty family lived in a pair of trailers at the Sunnyside Trailer Park, backed right up to Crystal Forest and Crystal Lake.

"Those woods are our home," His aunt would say, rubbing his hair as she snuggled him close to her. Franklin asked about the howling he heard at night, about the big scary wolves and monsters that lived there, or so Toni had told him at school.

"There is nothing to be scared about," His aunt said softly, "Those wolves are not monsters and they will never hurt you. Do you know why we have wolves decorating our house?"

Franklin shook his head, noticing for the first time that his aunt's trailer was filled with wolves all over it. On the door, in the windows, on the blankets, as figurines on the fireplace.

"Because to be a Fogarty is to be a wolf."

Franklin, who would later be called Fangs, did not understand it at the time. He assumed his aunt was making some grand statement about the strength and community wolves shared, and how it seemed to fit the people that lived in the trailer park. He thought his Aunt just really liked wolves, and they were her spirit animal, or something.

At the time, Franklin nodded sagely, but he did not know the truth behind it at all.

He would recall asking his father about Fox Forest. His father scratched his head and shrugged, "I don't know why Aunt Calla told you that," He frowned, "Besides the fact you shouldn't be on the Northside, there's not much scary about Fox Forest. It's rather nice, I hear."

Franklin loved his father, but he worshiped his Aunt Calla. She was the best Aunt around, always reading him stories in bed and never complaining if she had to watch him. She treated him like an adult and not a stupid kid whenever he was around. She told him made-up bedtime stories of the brave wolves in the forest, wolves he'd later realize where his packmates. All the best memories Franklin had from his childhood came from Aunt Calla.

So, for most of his life, Franklin stayed clear of Fox Forest.

He remembered one time his father tried to take Franklin there on a picnic with some of the other trailer-park kids, and Franklin threw such a fit that his father was embarrassed about it for years after.

Franklin would not go into the forest.

That is, until he was 10.

When Franklin was ten years old, his Aunt Calla had a daughter. When he was 10, his Aunt was rushed to the hospital in a big siren with loud noises, and Franklin heard his dad crying, saying there was too much blood. When Franklin was 10, his father lost his sister. When Franklin was 10, Aunt Calla died to bring his cousin Delilah into the world.

The only other thing he remembers from that awful day was that FP Jones suddenly appeared. FP was akin to a celebrity; Franklin had only ever seen him give orders and look important. He patted Franklin's shoulder apologetically, before vanishing into the room his aunt had just died in.

He was in there a long time.

After that, life became worse. His Aunt's trailer had to be sold and Delilah moved in with his father.

He knew it wasn't the baby's fault, but he sort of started to resent her. Resent her for taking his Aunt way, for making his dad tired and grumpy, for being thrown into their lives and shaking it all up.

One of the days in which Delilah would just not stop crying, and his father was too frazzled to notice Franklin sulking, Franklin took ran out of the house and all the way to Fox Forest.

It was a nice park. The park behind the trailers was misty and dark, where this one was green and rest and full of light. On a playground near the entrance, a group of well-dressed children laughed on swings and monkey bars. Franklin felt very out of place in his hand-me-down shirts and shoes. A girl with blonde hair smiled at him, and he thought she might ask him to play. Before she could, her mother was shooing her away from him. The woman's face was pulled into a deep frown and when she looked at Franklin, it was like she was looking at a cockroach.

Franklin, feeling unwanted, started sulking into the woods.

He made it just as far into where he could no longer see the playground when Franklin heard the music.

( one; do not follow the music or dance in a fairy ring)

The most beautiful music Franklin had ever heard, coming from deeper into the woods. It was alluring and lighthearted and took his breath away.

Franklin weaved through the moss-covered trees, letting his feet take him. His mind had shut off all functions except to find the source of this music.

Had he been paying attention, he would have realized how far he was going. How deep it was. How he did not know where he was and he would have remembered how very large the forest was. He would have been more afraid.

He was not. He felt nothing but a euphoria, as brilliant as a shooting star.

The trees cleared suddenly, revealing a grassy grove, with blades tickling along his ankles. There, in the middle of the grass was a girl.

She was about his age; dark brown hair tumbled over her shoulders in slightly messy curles. Her cheeks were flushed a shade of pink that one may see on a flower. Upon her head wrapped a wreath of daisies. She was barefoot, twirling and spinning to the music that seemed to echo all around the trees. The sound bounced off the bark, off the leaves, whispering to Franklin to come closer.

As he approached, he noticed a little circle of toadstools that dotted in a near-perfect circle, all around where the girl was swaying. Lightning bugs buzzed around Franklin, despite it was daylight out, and there seemed to be a shimmering ethereal glimmer dusted over everything.

"Where is that music coming from?" Franklin asked.

The girl stopped dancing, eyes wide, staring at Franklin.

He hadn't meant to scare her.

"It's so pretty, but I don't see any speakers," He continued softly.

The girl titled her head, her full lips pouting out.

"Well, part of it comes from me," She said. The music was still humming like cicadas in the back of Franklin's mind, but yes, the main melody had stopped. The girl had a small flute in her fingers, and when she lifted it to her lips, the same utterly enchanting music began to weave around him again. Her feet began to tap again, and soon she was spinning in a circle, the tune rising and falling with her movements.

"Why are you dancing?" Franklin asked when she'd given a pause. She giggled.

"Why shouldn't I?"

He considered it. Then, he smiled, "Can I join you?"

The girl blinked a couple times, as though greatly surprised by his offer. She narrowed her eyes, tilting her head.

"You want to join me?"

"It looks so fun. Unless you don't want me too," Franklin mumbled, kicking a pebble with his toe.

The girl looked around carefully before offering out a dainty palm. Franklin grabbed it. She tugged him into the circle.

An impish grin graced her lips as she started twirling around him, playing a slightly faster melody than before. Franklin didn't know why he wanted to dance; he was awful at it. But, being here with this girl, made him a better dancer. Or something.

Soon, he was spinning around with her just as fast, laughing so hard his sides hurt.

( two; do not tell a fairy your full name)

"What can I call you?" Franklin breathed out over the music.

The girl stopped, and she hummed for a second. There seemed to be a great deliberation on her part.

"Midge. You can call me Midge."

"That's a pretty name," Franklin said, and watched a small blush rise over her cheeks, "Do you have a last name?"

"It's nothing you need to know," She said back with an authoritative sort of way, one that gave Franklin pause.

"Oh. Right. Sorry," he said. They'd been friends for all of ten minutes. Yes, it must be weird for him to be wanting her last name, especially since she had not given it to him.

Midge grabbed his hands, and instantly, he danced with her. Not on his own, but with her, like some sort of really cool dude that had girls that liked him.

"I'm Franklin Fo-,"

"You don't have to tell me your full name." Midge interrupted him, a flash of worry across her face.

"I don't mind. I'm a nobody. Franklin Fogarty. I don't like my name," He explained, pulling a face.

"I think that's a nice name." She said.

Franklin shook his head, "You're just saying that. I don't have a good nickname either. Frankie is just bad. Lin too. My middle name is Clive. Franklin Clive Fogarty. I sound like I was named after an old man. Yuck."

A smile spread across Midge's face, "Franklin Clive Fogarty," she echoed. When she said it, the trees vibrated and chills went over his arms, "I don't mind it."

"Well I do." Franklin said stubbornly, "Midge is a cool name. Mine isn't."

"There are power in names, though." Midge said, but it sounded like she was parroting back something an adult had told her. Franklin recalled his Aunt, and how he would repeat back verbatim some of her most valuable wisdom. His mood was darkened immediately.

( three; do not mention a newborn at home)

"Why are you frowning?"

"My aunt is dead," Franklin said, crossing his arms and slumping his shoulders, "I just really miss her. She only died two months ago."

Midge's eyes watered, "I'm sorry, Franklin."

"She had a baby. Died delivering it. Delilah is cute, I guess, but she's loud and annoying and she's not my Aunt Calla."

"A newborn?" Midge repeated, her interest piquing.

"Uh-huh. My dad takes care of her now. Always taking care of her. He probably hasn't even noticed I'm gone." Franklin angrily kicked a tree trunk. Midge got a furious look on her face.

"Don't kick a tree! What has it ever done to you!" She demanded.

"I'm just upset," Franklin said, feeling a little stupid.

"Well, apologize." Midge commanded.

"What?"

"Apologize to the tree. It has feelings, you know."

Franklin blinked a Midge, trying to figure out if she was serious. She was.

( four; always be very, very polite)

"Apologizing to a tree is really stupid." Franklin said, "It's not like a human!"

"Is not!" Midge stomped her little foot.

"It totally is!" Franklin sputtered, looking up at the tree. A tree that clearly wasn't coming to life and kicking his ass.

Midge kicked Franklin hard on the shin.

"What was that for?" He demanded.

"So you don't like it when someone kicks you. How hypocritical." Midge said, only stumbling a little over the large word.

"I'm a human! Of course I don't like being kicked! You're crazy." He said honestly, eyes widening.

Midge took a step back, her lip quivering. Her eyes seemed so large, her hair flying around her like a halo. Her knees and elbows were stained with dirt and she did look sort of mad standing there like that. But also, inexplicably, beautiful.

A fat tear rolled down her cheek.

Franklin felt awful immediately.

"Damn it, I'm sorry. I'm just really angry about my aunt. You're not crazy. I should be nicer." He murmured. It was refreshing for a girl to care so much about a tree. He didn't think anyone at Sunnyside would be so kind. Trees were living, he considered.

"Look, I'm sorry tree," He said very seriously and genuinely, patting the tree he'd attacked.

Midge sniffled, wiping her eyes.

"You said a bad word," She said quietly.

Franklin winced.

"It's a bad habit, my teachers say. Look, I really...I didn't...are we friends?" He asked, for some reason, fearing beyond all else losing the comaonishp with this strange girl.

Midge rubbed the bark of the tree like she was calming a dog.

"Yes, we're still friends," She said plainly, like it had never been in question. She grabbed his hand, pulling him away from the toadstools and the clearing.

"Where are we going?" He asked.

"One of my favorite places to go," Midge replied back. She took him through the trees, her feet confident like she'd walked these woods a thousand times before. It seemed like hours but also seconds before she was tugging him into an area right up near the River. There was a little spring and waterfall, just big enough for a pair of ten-year-olds to get into some mischief in.

"Well, what are you waiting for?" Midge asked, running past Franklin and leaping into the water. Franklin didn't need more urging. He hopped out of his shoes, threw off his flannel, and dived in. He splashed through the creek, dunking his head under the waterfall. Midge's eyes sparkled as she shoved him under the water. Franklin retaliated by splashing her obnoxiously.

They stayed in the water for a long time. It was only when Franklin started feeling a chill that he dragged himself onto the banks.

( five; don't give a fairy any clothing, especially if it's cheap)

Midge followed after a second, her long hair matted against her face. She shoved the curtain of bangs back, scratching out some mud and washing off her skin. It was all for naught, because in a second, she pulled herself back through the mud next to Franklin.

The only other girl he'd ever met with such a nonchalant attitude toward mud was Toni. This girl seemed to love the earth, though, whereas Toni just didn't mind it.

Midge was shivering a little. The sun was obscured by clouds, and although it was a warm summer's day, it was a little bit chilly now.

Without a pause, Franklin offered her his flannel.

"You don't-," Midge began, sounding slightly agitated, but Franklin just shoved it onto her lap.

"It's fine. You need it more." He insisted. Midge picked uncertainty at the fabric, a weird look on her face.

She looked at a tear near the shoulder, face twisting.

Franklin suddenly felt very self conscious, "It's not great quality," he mumbled, "All I an afford. Not even new when I got it. My Aunt used to patch the holes, but…" He bit his palm to keep from crying. Everything reminded him of her.

Midge was still just staring at it.

"One day, I'll be rich and be able to afford $100 flannels, if I want," Franklin continued, sighing as he imagined more prosperous days.

Midge was carefully sliding it on. On her lithe frame, it seemed to swallow her.

( six; do not accept a gift from a fairy; you'll owe them a favor and they can ask for anything)

They laid on the banks until the sun streamed through the leaves, dappling their skin. Franklin talked about his trailer park and his family and his friends at school. Midge talked about her friends too and her home.

Part-way through, he noticed Midge's fingers twining flowers together in a chain.

"'Nother flower crown?" He asked. Midge gave a nod. She was really good at those.

"Super pretty," He said, watching how efficiently Midge was able to make a pile of flowers into something functional.

She finished one with little field flowers and got a curled grin across her face. She darted up, setting it on Franklin's head.

"For you," She said simply.

"I cant take this," franklin said, carefully patting his head as not to ruin the flowers.

"Why, because you're a guy and guys don't wear flowers?" Midge scowled.

"No! Because of all the work you put into it," Franklin said. Yes, the guys would have eaten him alive if they saw him wearing this, but it was just him and Midge. Plus, it was perhaps the nicest thing someone had given him.

"Well, I still want you to have it," Midge said.

Franklin didn't want to argue with her again. Plus, it made him feel special.

"Okay."

( seven; don't eat any fairy food or fairy wine)

Midge got up from where she was sitting cross legged on the ground. She still had Franklin's flannel over her shoulders, and she shoved up the sleeves like she'd owned it forever. She went behind a rock, pulling out a little cooler.

"I come here everyday. I brought food out two days ago," She said by way of explanation, "It's nice to just think here."

"I can see that." Franklin was already feeling so much calmer.

She offered him a packet of Ritz crackers. He tore open the plastic, hungrily starting to devour it. Midge was watching him with surprise, her hands half-way in the cooler.

"Sorry, I'm bein' rude," Franklin mumbled through a mouthful of crackers, "I just...money's tight at home. I don't get a lot of food always."

Midge looked horrified, "But...you…" She said, staring to more frantically take out food.

"I don't want to eat all of your food," He said, feeling bad for telling her.

"I have lots of food at home. Lots." Midge said firmly. She shoved a small haul toward him, "Eat it all, please."

It was a lot that Franklin recognized, lots of snacks he'd only had once or twice in his life. He did notice, however, a small cake looking thing that Midge had not given him. He didn't mean to be ungrateful, but he was curious. Midge saw his look.

"My mum's summer cakes. She makes them the best," She said, but held it close to her, "If you have some of this, other food will never taste as good again."

"Your mom must be some amazing cook," Franklin chuckled, thinking she was making a grand joke.

"Something like that." Midge said, "You sure you want to try some?"

"Uh, yeah?" Why would Franklin ever turn down cake.

Midge tore off a corner of it, brushing the crumbs into his hand.

Fangs popped it into his mouth.

"I think I'm in love," he moaned. Midge gave a weak laugh.

"I told you."

It tasted indescribably good. Was this what things tasted like when you had good materials, Franklin wondered. He could eat that forever and never grow tired of it.

"Wow," he breathed, "Is that what god tastes like?"

Midge gave a tiny smile, but it was timid, "I think it's alright. It's always others that think it's the best thing since sliced bread."

Fangs shrugged, going back to his flaming hot Doritos. Midge was right. After having that, eating the once very tasty Doritos sort of tasted more like hot cardboard now. It wasn't unpleasant, but it wasn't a good taste. Luckily, by the time he'd finished the food in front of him, it was back to almost-normal taste.

"Really?" Midge seemed surprised when he mentioned this to her.

"Yeah, not bad. I mean, I don't think anything could trump that cake, but…" He licked the dust from the food off his fingers, "Maybe I ate too much too fast."

Midge seemed not to have an answer. She was examining him with far too scrutinizing of a look.

( eight; never say thank you. You will be in their debt)

The day was waning. Franklin knew it must have been hours he was out here. His father was probably wondering where he was. He felt bad for getting so emotional.

"I should get back." He said.

Midge almost looked like she was going to say no. He didn't think he could find the way out of the woods himself. Then, as though one part of herself had lost a battle with another, Midge sighed.

"I'll take you home."

She took him back to the circle of toadstools. There, once the pair were standing inside, she began to shrug off the flannel.

"You can keep it," Franklin said, feeling his cheeks redden.

"But...you must not have a lot," Midge said, touched.

"I don't. Looks better on you anyway." He insisted. Midge brought the sleeves to her nose, inhaling and nodding. Franklin touched his head to assure that the flower crown was still there.

"Midge, thank you." Franklin said.

Midge shook her head hard.

"Don't thank me," She whimpered, a tinge of desperation coloring her voice.

"But I need to. I'm glad I ran into you today."

Midge seemed emotional, though he didn't know what, and before he could ask, she was throwing her arms around him. He'd never hugged a girl that wasn't family. This felt...this felt nice. He liked it. He hugged back.

Midge reached up, placing her palms on the temples of his forehead.

And then, Franklin didn't remember anything.

When he woke up, he was in his bedroom. He stumbled to the living room to see his dad watching the TV on mute, Delilah nestled in his arm.

"Dad...I'm sorry I just vanished like that." Franklin said, rubbing his eyes. He felt like he'd been asleep for weeks.

"What are you talking about?" His dad asked, frowning, "I saw you an hour ago. At dinner."

"No, before dinner," Franklin said, feeling weird. Off.

"Before dinner you helped me with Delilah. You were a good boy today, Frankie."

Franklin winced at his much hated nickname.

"It's Saturday today, isn't it?"

His dad was giving him a funny look.

"Yes?"

"Ok. Uhm, never mind," Franklin mumbled, heading back to his room.

So, he thought, it had been a dream. It had to have been. He spent the whole day with Midge but somehow also was home? Yes, just a very vivid after-dinner dream.

That is, until he realized he couldn't find his flannel, the one he'd 'given' Midge in his dream.

As he was ransacking his drawers, in his bedside table, he found a flower crown.

The music echoed in his mind once more, like a memory long forgotten.

Franklin would look for Midge in the forest many times again, but never find her. He would not find her until he'd almost convinced himself it was merely a dream, six years later, when he wore a different name and a different skin.

( if you do any of these things, a fairy might own you forever)

The day that Franklin spent with Midge, she returned to her house that was right inside the boundaries of the forest. She washed her face in the sink, creeped past her mother in the kitchen, and closed her bedroom door. She breathed into the flannel, heart beating fast.

Then, before her parents saw, she would shove the flannel under her bed, only to be taken out when she truly was feeling down. She would put a spell on it so it would never lose the smell of Franklin, even after years had passed.

Her mother called her to dinner.

Midge came dutifully, a fae's meal wafting through the house. She was starved.

"Did you do anything fun today?" Her mother asked, rubbing her head.

"Just played with the woods, like usual," Midge replied.

"I saw you with a boy," Her mother said, causing Midge to stiffen, "Happen to catch his name at all?"

There was a dangerous look in her mother's eyes. Midge knew what she was supposed to do; tell her mother about how silly this boy had been, how he'd walked almost willingly into all the fairy traps there could be. Her heart clenched as she thought of doing that, and for the first time ever, found she could not.

"No," She lied easily, "he was smart enough not to tell me anything. He didn't dance with me in the fairy ring, he didn't eat any food, he didn't let me give him anything. Someone has told him of our ways, I guess."

Her mother pouted a bit, sighing, "Kids these days are getting smarter." She murmured, shaking her head tragically, "Our culture is vanishing. I know you probably tried your best, though, bunny."

"Of course I did," Midge said, though the words twisted in her stomach, "But he was smarter."

"Shame," her father said, speaking up, and Midge started eating before they asked any more questions.

For his safety, she could not see him again. She liked him a little too much already.

Franklin Clive Fogarty, she would whisper in the night, wishing for her friend back, Franklin, you have no idea what you've done. You stupid, infuriating, kind, honest, wonderful boy.

She almost wished she'd never met him. But in truth, she didn't. Not at all.