We checked out of the library, book in hand. That's when I noticed — my bag was gone.

We stepped out of the library and I let out a frustrated groan.

"My bag is still in the lab upstairs," I said. I didn't really say it to Jasen; I was just talking out loud.

"Just run up and get it real quick," he said.

"But you'll have to come with me, and then we'll have to walk all the way back down the stairs to leave." That was another thing we had yet to talk about — the day was over. Now would be right around the time I'd typically be heading to my dorm room, alone, and getting cozy in bed with a good book. Jasen's presence put a massive dent in my usual routine.

"Here," and without asking, he took the book from me, holding it under his arm. "I'll carry it. We can pick up your bag tomorrow. We have to get going or I'll be late to practice."

I stared at him for a moment. "Practice?" I wasn't aware that he had practiced anything in his entire life.

"Packfall," he said. "I'm on the team. We have practice at 6 on weekdays."

I groaned. Just one more thing to add to my schedule.

"What am I supposed to do? Just sit on the bleachers and be your little cheerleader?"

He shrugged, but looked for a moment like he was actually considering it. "You might enjoy watching us play."

"I doubt it. Where's your practice at?"

"The courtyard," he said. "We can head to my dorm after, it's close."

I glared in his direction. The words rang in my ears. In a mocking tone, I thought, 'we can head to my dorm after'. Who does he think he is?

"I'll at least have to stop by my dorm to pick up my clothes," I said, the words full of scorn. I didn't even try to hide it.

"Just wear something of mine."

"And show up to class tomorrow in your clothes?" I let out a dry laugh. "Nice try. Besides, you're like three times my size."

I saw something there, a flicker behind his expression. For a split second, I thought he was angry. I could almost sense it, rolling off of him in waves; a little trick I'd picked up after spending a lifetime with my father.

Jasen reached out a hand. I could see it coming; a strike, right to my face. I tensed, preparing for it.

But he only placed the hand firm on my shoulder. With a grin, he spoke, "I'm sure I have some old clothes laying around that would fit someone as small as you." Then, he almost laughed, adding, "Or maybe I still have some of my ex girlfriend's clothes. She was about your size..."

I batted his hand away, "Ha-ha, very funny. Whatever, I'll attend your practice Packfall stuff."

He almost beamed. "Perfect, let's get going!"

I knew what Packfall was, but I'd never actually watched a game. It was a sport reserved for werewolves only; and it was one socially-acceptable way for them to be and act as wolves. I didn't know the specifics of the sport, but I knew it was a big deal at our university; I wondered, fleetingly, if Jasen had gotten a scholarship for it. It was the only thing that made sense in my mind as to how he managed to end up at such a prestigious institute. Or maybe his family was rich, and had simply bought his way in. Either way, I knew his test scores in high school likely couldn't have compared to mine. He probably hadn't had to work a single day for the life he now had.

He'd never understand how easy he had it.

We exited the building; being Jasen, he held open the door for me with a subtle, "Ladies first."

I scoffed, but walked out anyways.

The main building opened up to a beautiful park; in the distance, I could see the street and the tall buildings of the city. It was rather secluded. Well-kept trees grew tall and green; the air was warm, slightly damp, as if rain was coming. The sky blue, but clouds rolled on in the distance, just above the orange glow of the evening sun. It wasn't quite sunset yet, but in another few hours, it would be.

I followed Jasen down the sidewalk, keeping my head low. I almost thought about propping up my hood to hide my face; I didn't want anyone to see us together, walking as if we were old pals. But most of the students had gone home already, and there were only one or two walking down the paths now.

I could hear it before I could see it. The Werewolves were always incredibly loud. The courtyard was a wide slab of concrete in the middle of the grassy park, doubling as a large basketball court for the humans, and a place for competitions to be held for the Witches. A row of benches was off to one side for spectators, although official events were held in the gymnasium, not here in the yard.

Already, a pack had gathered there. Most of them shared a physique with Jasen, and I felt meek in comparison; but physical strength had never been a virtue of mine, and I'd never cared that it wasn't. Still, I couldn't deny how intimidating it was to trail Jasen as he approached the group.

I could tell they were friends. Jasen shoved the book into my hands, and then ran ahead a bit, raising a hand to offer a high-five to the first few to greet him.

A woman peered past him, narrowing her eyes at me. I felt myself grow small beneath her gaze. I definitely wasn't supposed to be here. I could already imagine what she thought of me, what she was going to say. She'd ask Jasen why he brought his opponent to a practice game; or worse, why I had failed to beat Jasen in our competitions even once.

But she didn't. Instead, she simply asked, "Brought a friend today?"

Jasen nodded, stepping back to be level with me. He placed a hand on my back, pushing me forward, "This is Cade! He wanted to watch our game today."

I glanced up at him, a little confused. It was the way he could be so carefree, the way the lie slipped from his tongue so easily. If I hadn't known any better, then I'd be just as convinced that we were good friends.

I tried to keep up the facade, but with the strangers staring at me, I couldn't keep it up. I only nodded my agreement, managing a small, "Yeah."

This was unlike me. In competitions, the crowds swarmed. I'd been involved in my dad's company from a young age; and always, I was paraded around, taught to speak well and appear even better under pressure or in the face of a crowd.

But this crowd wasn't made up of rich Witches or spectators at a competition; this crowd was of Werewolves that Jasen was close friends with, but none of whom I'd ever even met.

The woman — well-muscled like Jasen, but surprisingly elegant in form — approached me, offering a smile. "You won't be disappointed!" She said. Her confidence was contagious, and I almost thought that maybe I would enjoy watching them play their game.

I made my way to the benches, sitting down as Jasen continued to greet and chat with the others. I didn't really look at them; I looked past them at the main building. I could see from here the pointed, glass roof to the library, where the sun would stream in in the mornings. Hidden behind the large, red brick building would have been my dorm, a smaller, square building tucked nearly into the forest line there.

I turned my head back to look at the rest of the campus. Another large building, fitted with the gymnasium and a cafeteria. And then just past that was another stout, square building, no doubt Building B where Jasen lived during the school year.

I heard the commotion, turning my head back to the court. Before my eyes, I saw the group — about a dozen or so — turn into wolves. I'd seen it before, countless times, and especially during my competitions. But seeing so many at once was a little jarring.

I knew Jasen's pelt well from watching him as a wolf during our contests. He was a scruffy, brown agouti wolf, with lighter undercoat and brown eyes, just as he had when human. I didn't recognise any of the other wolves; some were grey, some black, some silvery or yellow. I couldn't even figure out which one had belonged to the woman who'd spoken to me.

Packfall: the name of the game was brawn and tracking. It wasn't a ball that they passed around with their teeth, but rather a sort of boomerang. Divided into two teams, the wolves would compete for which team could score a goal by bringing the boomerang to their home side.

A simple game, but I'm certain there were many rules I didn't know about. One I did know about, and which was evident as I watched the wolves dart back and fourth across the concrete, was that they were not allowed to use their teeth for anything except catching the boomerang.

I had to admit — it was thrilling to watch. They piled like dogs, careful not to wrestle — I'm assuming that was another rule — but head-butting and shoving were more than allowed.

I heard them growl and shout, and I recognised her voice as one of the lighter-toned wolves. Her wolf was bigger than most of the others, and just a thickly furred. If I listened closely, I could almost make out which heavy paw-steps were hers. I could also hear Jasen's; he was heftier than the others in each step, but no less graceful. It was no wonder he could defeat me, watching him now. Every movement of his instant, but well-calculated. He never slipped up, never fell, never lost hold of the boomerang.

I couldn't quite make sense of who was winning or losing, but I could tell they were having fun.

The sky began to fade to orange, and as the game ended with a few cheers and growls, I watched as they shifted from wolves to people. Then, I could more easily tell who was who. Their wolves were so similar in appearances; I could barely tell them apart. But for wolves, I imagine scent played a big role in that.

Jasen was flushed. He took a water bottle offered to him, downing probably the entire drink, and then made his way over to where I sat on the bench. He sat down beside me, his shoulder still heaving from the exertion. Worst of all, I could smell him from here; something like wet dog.

"Enjoy the game?" He asked.

"It was... interesting."

And he laughed, "I knew you'd like it."

I didn't respond to that, fighting back a glare. He didn't know a single thing about me; much less whether or not I would have liked his stupid game. Watching it was enthralling, but now, I could safely say that I had despised it, if only for the fact that Jasen was there.

The others had begun to disperse. The sun had begun to set, casting long shadows across the concrete, and outlining Jasen's hair in a subtle bronze silhouette.

"Well," he patted his own knee, "Back to mine?"

He said it so casually, like I was just a casual friend he was inviting over to hang out for a while. Like everything about this was so normal.

"Fine," I said.

"Dang, I really thought the game would have made you ease up a little." When he spoke, it was always with that tone, the lingering laugh in his voice. Like everything he said was meant as a joke.

"A Witch will never feel at ease among a pack of wolves," I said.

"It isn't the 1800s anymore, Cade. It's not like we're going to maul you." I dared to glance at him, and he still kept a smile like it was funny. But I caught it, a moment of hesitation behind the gleam of his eyes. Something else was there, something he wanted to say.

He stood up and stretched with a yawn. "I'm ready for a shower," he said.

"I'm ready for you to take a shower, too," I replied.

He laughed at that, a short, dry laugh. "That bad, huh?"

"The worst."

I stood up after him, gathering the book under my arm and following him back down the winding sidewalk. The grass was cleanly cut, the smell of it still fresh in the air. We walked slow; well, really, Jasen walked slow, and I met his aggravating pace.

"That all it takes to wear out a wolf?" I asked.

"Oh, no," he chuckled, "It takes more than that, trust me. But when you do it every day... you get into this routine, and my body knows sleep comes after the shower."

"Thank God," I almost laughed, "I'm ready to be done with you for the day."

I saw it from the corner of my eye — that smug look of his flickered over his face, a sign of amusement, and he had reached out a hand behind me to pat my back. But it didn't get that far; instead, it fell to his side, and he glanced away. I stared at the side of his face as we walked. I could see it there — whatever I had seen at the bench, just beneath the surface.

As the sun began to set, the air became crisp.

"Cade," he said, slowly. This was a tone I didn't recognise coming from him. It was short and heavy in the air between us; almost serious. I didn't trust it, and so, I didn't reply. Though I looked ahead now, watching as Building B slowly drew nearer, I could feel Jasen's eyes burning into the side of my cheek. "Do you... visit home often?"

The question came as a surprise. I hadn't been sure of what he was going to ask me, but I hadn't expected that at all.

I scoffed, "I try not to. Who in college does? It's more like home visits me."

He nodded, as if that confirmed something for him. "I noticed, back at the library. I know that I'm... not a Witch," and the way he said it made Werewolf sound like a curse word, "But you know that I'd never hurt you, right?"

I couldn't quite tell what he was getting at.

"I don't think you'd hesitate," I said, the words sour. "There's been plenty of times in battle competitions where you were all too eager to take me down."

"Well, yeah, but that was just for the competition."

I glanced up at him, meeting his steady gaze.

"I don't think you're going to, like, kill me in my sleep or anything, if that's what you're asking."

Jasen sighed, almost as if relieved, "Good, good." He looked forward then as we walked. Keeping his eyes on the building just up ahead.

I could sense his unease, so I continued, "I don't think less of you because you're a wolf. I think less of you because you're an ass. I'd hate you just as much even if you were a Witch." Although I said it with confidence, I wasn't quite sure it was true. Witches and Humans were just easier to get along with, easier to understand. Werewolves... were intimidating at best.

He laughed, "Okay, fair enough." And I could physically feel the tension roll off of his shoulders.

I kept my eyes ahead. It didn't take long before we reached the doors to the dorm building; this time, I held the door open for myself, making an effort not to keep it open for Jasen. I could almost hear it; the scoff, the way it held amusement beneath it. Almost a laugh as he had to push the door back open to enter. I felt a little smug about it myself.

He walked ahead, and I trailed him up the staircase to the second story. This building was almost identical to the one I lived in, and yet, it felt unfamiliar. Jasen, on the other hand, walked like he owned the entire campus.

Finally, he led me to a door. There, he clicked it open, gesturing for me to follow him inside.