I sit against the front door, enveloped in my blanket, waiting without a drop of patience in my being. The tile floor is hard and cold, but I've adapted to the discomfort and stopped caring about my numb toes. My mind is conjuring all sorts of things I want to shout at him. There are so many things that I can't seem to decide what to say first. Maybe how it's our first night as people that live partially together, and he's abandoned me on this special marker. Maybe how this is the second time he's done this—left with little to no explanation—and all I can do is worry until he comes back, if he does. Maybe how I'm in this house all alone and something could happen to me; he must have left for a reason.My fingernails dig unconsciously into my palms as my eyes stay fixated on the ground. Sounds come from outside then, and I perk up like a dog who's been waiting for their owner

I sit in the corner of the shower and watch the tips of my fingers shift from blue as they warm. The water falls onto my legs from above like a million little punches or swift, passionate kisses. My head is clearing now. The fog has drifted and it's easier to think.I can feel Adam's presence on the other side of the bathroom door. I'm conflicted once again; half of me wants him to hold me and run his hand down my hair, but the other half wants to remain cold. Although I was falling to pieces, it was easier without him. My purpose was clear—last as long as you can. My purpose isn't clear now. I don't know what to do, so I sit here and watch my hands like a mermaid studies her new legs."Wrenley," I hear him call, his voice low and worn-down. "Will you come out of the bathroom?"H

I walk down the road with my hands warm in my jacket pockets. Sunlight filters through the forest beside me, bringing a kiss of heat to my face in the cold air around me. The cold doesn't feel so cold anymore, only a sensation that neither pleasures nor hurts me. I'm sure if it were snowing, I'd feel differently, but right now I am content. It reminds me of when I would wake up in the middle of the night, hungry. The chill from the fridge would caress me as I stood with the doors wide open. I would look over the same foods until my snack standards lowered. My problems used to be much simpler then—disappointment over the fact that my mother ate the last piece of that evening's dessert, or maybe, at the most stressful, a poor test score in one of my classes.The quiet helps me as I try to sort through my thoughts once again. Every now and then a car will pass by, or a noise will call

"I'm sorry, I can't stay long. I've just come to grab a few things.""Are you sure it's a good idea to say with Adam longer? Things were a little bumpy there, Wren. Maybe a break will be good for you two."I look up from my bag. "Mom, I said that was just a little argument. We're doing great now. I just—I really think I should be with him right now. It's werewolf business; it's hard to explain. He needs me right now," I assure her then stuff one last shirt into my suitcase before zipping it up. "Tell Grandma that I'll call later. Adam—he just really needs me there with him."She nods, leaning against the doorway to my bedroom. "Okay, no problem, as long as you're going to school."I can see the anxiety behind her eyes. She

I run out into the snow. My feet plow through as I hurry, as my eyes stare up at the thing. I drop my backpack to the ground once I reach it. My hands touch the bark to make sure the tree is really here, and when I don't go tumbling through it like a hologram, I know that it's actually in front of me.The orange tree stands tall and sturdy. It's many branches splay out with smaller limbs sprouting in every direction. The greenest leaves coat the branches, and amongst the thousands of them are bright fruits. My eyes bounce from fruit to fruit in disbelief. I reach up and pluck a low-hanging one. I run my fingers over its skin and roll it between my hands. Lifting it to my nose, I smell the thing but it doesn't emit the scent of an orange, nor does it look like one."Careful there."My e