Of course my stupid car refuses to start.

Kicking a tire for good measure and slamming the door shut, I leave the hunk of junk in the parking lot.

On foot, cutting through campus is the fastest way back to my rental. I pass other academic buildings like the schools for engineering, business, and performing arts. They all look similar, although details like the shape of the pediments above the windows or the height of the cornices along the flat rooflines make each one somewhat distinct.

The sycamores and maples dotting the green spaces are already shedding their leaves. There's a carpet of yellows, browns and reds scattered on the cobblestone path under my feet. A sudden chill in the air as the sun begins to go down makes me shiver and hasten my steps. I hate when my toes are cold.

I pass the library with its symmetrical columns and off-white stone façade. It presents a sharp contrast to the red brick covering most everything else. But as I get to the heart of the campus, these instructional buildings are replaced by more student-centered spaces.

A small lake with tributaries flowing into it from each end anchors this area of the university. On one side is the main administrative building. Pictures of the Second Empire gem are used on most marketing materials for Packard so it's pretty recognizable. I'll have to go in there first thing Monday morning to get my faculty I.D. card and take care of tax forms. It's also where students pay their bills or register for classes. Given that it's after work hours on a Friday, it's likely empty.

On this side of the lake is the student center, and in contrast, that place is bustling with activity. I purposefully avoid the crowd inside by taking the lakefront walkway along the exterior.

When I get across, I find a mini town square of sorts. It even has a fountain! In its center, a heavily stylized statue of a timber wolf-the school's mascot-spouts water from its upturned muzzle.

The surrounding shops give an even stronger Old World feel than the rest of the campus, with their half-timber frames, shingle roofs and clapboard signs. They also cater to a student's every desire. There are ice cream and pizza parlors; bagel, sushi and smoothie places; and even a karaoke bar alongside an English pub.

I can't help, but be envious. Apart from the barely edible burgers and tacos in the dining hall, my undergrad campus only had a sandwich shop. And even then, the lettuce was often wilted and the tuna was always questionable.

Already relishing the possibilities for future snacking, I dash into one of the three (three!) cafés for a boba chai. I resist the urge to sit down at one of the outside tables, but I splurge on a cheese scone to-go. I haven't eaten since somewhere around Scranton and tonight is a night where it would definitely be better not to go into it hungry. Since the sun is setting fast and I don't have a ride, this will have to do.

I should have packed some food exactly for this scenario, but you know what they say about hindsight. In any case, I've heard that fasting can improve concentration and willpower. And goodness knows I'll need both tonight.

I've scarfed down the scone and I'm only a few doors down from my house when a crashing sound makes me jump. What can I say? I'm a bit jittery. But instead of danger, it's only a student who's dropped a handful of clothes hangers. She's still moving into her building across the street and by the look of the packed car at the curb, she still has a ways to go. I can sympathize. I never had any help on move-in day, either.

"Do you need any help?" I ask after crossing the road. Crouching down, I begin to pick up hangers without waiting for an answer.

"That's really sweet of you, but I've got these," she says apologetically, scooping up a batch. Tucking a lock of her ginger pixie cut hair behind her ear, she continues. "But if you have a minute, there's something else I could really use another pair of hands with."

After dumping the hangers into a hamper, we work together to unload a large amplifier from the trunk. It turns out, the girl is a music major who plays strings-including the electric bass.

"At least you didn't bring a piano," I joke when she's still profusely thanking me for the assistance as I wave goodbye.

Having done my good deed of the day, I soon find my house keys where Audra left them and unlock my door. The inside of the cottage is even prettier than on the pictures and my excitement about this new phase of my life returns.

But first things first. I just need to grab the silver chains from the car and-

Oh, I'm so screwed!

I totally forgot that my car and everything else that I had brought hundreds of miles with me is on the other side of campus. And if that wasn't bad enough, now my fingers are beginning to tingle, which is always the first sign of the transformation.

Things are going to get ugly real soon. Even uglier if I can't physically restrain myself.

Looking up at the moon, I don't know what I expect to see, but it's out, full and nearly overhead. Luckily just above the horizon the sun is still throwing a mix of reds and purples, but it's setting faster with each passing minute.

I take a deep breath and try to think of a plan B.

Chains are good, but they were always just a failsafe. If the basement is secure, that could definitely be enough to hold me.

Rushing inside, I open every single door I can find to look for the stairs down.

Nope, that's a linen closet. Not that one either; that's a bathroom. Cupboard. Broom closet. Laundry room. None of them are what I need!

The one thing-the only thing-I had asked Audra to get me in a rental was a basement with no direct access to the outside. I didn't need stainless steel appliances or a fenced yard. No hardwood flooring or jacuzzi tub. Just a darn basement.

Forget accidentally running a student over in my car. Tonight when I turn into a werewolf, I might rip apart a whole basketball team worth of college kids!