“You’ll watch it and you’ll like it.” She laughs. “Don’t think I don’t see the eyes you make at the alpha.”

“Uh-huh,” I say, trying to act like it’s no big deal that she’s joking about me crushing on a very hot, very male actor. She’s the only person who didn’t freak out about the “Chandler situation,” as my parents refer to my brief and dramatic relationship with a state senator’s son last year. I thought it was love; he thought it was something else—blackmail, mainly. It’s whatever.

My mom yanked me from my private school when the pictures came to light, finally relenting and letting me attend classes online instead. She also immediately put me into counseling, which is hilarious because she didn’t even do that after my dive off the roof at thirteen, the one that resulted in a broken leg, a sprained ankle, and too many bruises to count. To this day she insists I must have done it on a dare—even though I left a note.

So yeah, apparently liking girls and guys rates higher on the concern scale than . . . the other thing. I stopped going a couple months ago, though; I don’t think my mom has even noticed.

I shift in my seat uncomfortably, but Gray has already started watching the show. I try to follow along, but I’m in a weird headspace now, so I mess with my phone to take my mind off things, relieved to see that Peak has texted me twice.

“Oh my god, why is this show so good?” Gray groans, actually groans, and I raise my eyebrows.

“Let’s just agree to disagree on that,” I snort. My phone buzzes again, and it’s a picture of Peak’s cat with its tongue sticking out a little. Only, Peak scribbled on the pic so it looks like the cat’s wearing a Batman mask.

I smile and lean back in my seat. There are werewolves shoving people into high school lockers on my TV, and there’s so much food, and my sister is smiling, and Peak is being cute, and for a second everything is not so bad. Given enough time, I could maybe get used to this.

CHAPTER ELEVEN

Jubilee

JAYLA SIGHS DRAMATICALLY and flips the page of her textbook. We’re spending eighth period in the library for study hall, which means we have to be mostly quiet but can still talk a little. We have a history test in three days that we’re both cramming for, though one of us is a bit more resentful about it. Jayla flips the page again, tapping her pencil until Nikki drops into the empty chair beside her and pulls it from her hand.