The physics textbook lay open between them on Ryan's bedroom floor, its pages filled with equations that seemed to mock their tired brains. Kyle rubbed his eyes and stretched, his joints popping after hours of hunching over homework. The digital clock on Ryan's nightstand glowed 8:47 PM in harsh red numbers.
"I swear Mr. Henderson designed this test to kill us," Ryan muttered, erasing his latest attempt at solving a momentum problem. "When am I ever going to need to calculate the velocity of a bowling ball in real life?"
Kyle chuckled, grateful for the break. "When you're trying to impress some girl at the bowling alley with your physics knowledge."
"Right, because that's exactly what girls want to hear about." Ryan tossed his pencil aside and leaned back against his bed. "Speaking of which, did you see Jessica Martinez today? That blue sweater—"
"Dude, focus," Kyle interrupted, though he was grinning. "We've got three more chapters to review before tomorrow."
"Easy for you to say. You actually understand this stuff." Ryan gestured at the scattered papers around them. "My brain feels like it's been put through a blender."
Kyle's phone lit up against the hardwood floor, vibrating with another notification. He glanced at it briefly before turning it face down, ignoring the message just as he had the previous dozen.
"Your mom again?" Ryan asked, noticing the gesture.
"Yeah. She's been texting all evening." Kyle picked up his pencil and tried to refocus on the problem set. "I already told her I'd be here studying with you. I don't know why she keeps checking up on me."
Ryan raised an eyebrow. "Maybe she thinks we're up to no good. You know, typical teenage delinquent stuff." He adopted a mock-serious tone. "Maybe she's worried we'll call our girlfriends over for a wild party while my parents are out of town."
"If only we had girlfriends to call," Kyle replied dryly.
"Hey, speak for yourself. I'm working on it." Ryan grinned. "There's this girl in my chemistry class, Sarah Chen. We've been lab partners for like three weeks now, and I think she might actually be interested."
"What makes you think that?"
"Well, she laughs at my jokes. Even the really bad ones."
"That could just mean she's being polite."
"Or," Ryan said, pointing his pencil at Kyle dramatically, "it could mean she's totally into my charming personality and devastating good looks."
Kyle snorted. "Right. Your devastating good looks."
"I'll have you know I've been told I have very nice eyes."
"By who? Your grandmother?"
"By several people, actually." Ryan tried to look offended but couldn't keep a straight face. "You're just jealous because you're too shy to talk to anyone."
Kyle felt his cheeks warm slightly. It was true that he hadn't made much effort to connect with people since moving to town a few months ago. Making friends had always been complicated for him, for reasons Ryan couldn't possibly understand.
"I talk to people," Kyle protested weakly.
"Ordering lunch in the cafeteria doesn't count as socializing."
"I talk to you."
"That's because I'm irresistibly charming and wore you down with my persistence." Ryan grinned. "Remember when you first moved here? You were like a hermit. Wouldn't even make eye contact in the hallways."
Kyle remembered. He'd been terrified that someone would notice something different about him, would somehow sense what he really was. But Ryan had been relentless in his friendliness, sitting next to him in classes, inviting him to study sessions, gradually breaking down the walls Kyle had built around himself.
"I was just adjusting to a new school," Kyle said.
"Speaking of adjusting," Ryan replied, "how are you liking it here? Really, I mean. Not just the polite answer you give teachers."
Kyle considered the question. Moving had been his family's solution to their last close call, when a neighbor had started asking too many questions about their nocturnal habits. But this town felt different somehow. Safer. Maybe it was having a friend like Ryan.
"It's good," he said finally. "Better than I expected."
"Good. Because you're stuck with me now." Ryan stood up and stretched. "I'm going to grab some sodas from the kitchen. Want anything?"
"Sure, whatever you're having."
As Ryan's footsteps faded down the hallway, Kyle's phone buzzed again. And again. The persistent notifications were starting to grate on his nerves. With a sigh, he picked up the device and scrolled through the messages he'd been ignoring.
Are you still at Ryan's?
Don't forget to text me when you're heading home.
Kyle, please respond. I'm starting to worry.
Remember what we talked about. Keep track of time.
Kyle???
I just hope you haven't forgotten what tonight is!
The last message hit him like a physical blow. Kyle's blood turned to ice as the words sank in. He'd been so focused on finals, so caught up in the normalcy of studying with a friend, that he'd completely lost track of the lunar calendar.
His hands shaking, Kyle looked toward Ryan's bedroom window. Through the glass, above the dark silhouettes of the backyard trees, a perfect full moon hung in the clear night sky like an accusation.
"No, no, no," he whispered, panic clawing at his throat. How could he have been so careless? So stupid?
It was the first night of the full moon!
The familiar tingling started in his fingertips—electric, inevitable. His mother's breathing techniques were useless against the moon's silver pull. The change ripped through him like wildfire.
Bones cracked and lengthened with wet, grinding sounds. His shirt stretched tight as muscle and sinew expanded beneath his skin. The metallic taste of blood filled his mouth as his teeth sharpened, and coarse hair erupted along his arms in dark waves. His jaw extended with an audible snap, nose flattening as the scent of Ryan's room—old socks, pencil shavings, the lingering sweetness of his sister's shampoo from the hallway—suddenly blazed through his consciousness with overwhelming intensity.
The pain was white-hot and familiar, like being torn apart and rebuilt by invisible hands. His human thoughts grew hazy, disrupted by sensory overload and an instintive desire to escape the confines of this room--and even his humanity.
The transformation was nearly complete when Ryan returned, a can of Coke in each hand. He stopped dead in the doorway, his mouth falling open as he took in the impossible sight before him.
Where Kyle had been sitting moments before, a massive wolf-like creature now crouched among the scattered homework papers. Its fur was dark brown, almost black in the lamplight, and its yellow eyes glowed with an otherworldly intelligence. The creature's lips pulled back to reveal gleaming fangs as it turned to face Ryan.
The sodas slipped from Ryan's nerveless fingers, hitting the floor with metallic clanks and rolling away. He stood frozen, his mind struggling to process what he was seeing. This couldn't be real. Things like this didn't happen in real life. They belonged in movies and books and late-night horror stories.
But the creature before him was undeniably real, and undeniably where Kyle had been just minutes ago.
The werewolf—because that's what it had to be, impossible as it seemed—stared at Ryan with those burning yellow eyes. For a moment, neither of them moved. Then the creature's expression seemed to shift, becoming almost... apologetic?
"Ryan," the werewolf spoke, its voice a deep growl that was somehow still recognizably Kyle's. "I'm so sorry. I never wanted you to see this."
Ryan's legs gave out, and he slumped against the doorframe. "Kyle?" he whispered.
"Yeah, it's me." The werewolf's ears drooped. "I know how this looks. I know how insane this must seem. But I swear I'm not going to hurt you. I would never hurt you."
"You're a..." Ryan's voice cracked. "You're actually a werewolf."
"My whole family is." Kyle's transformed voice carried a note of desperate pleading. "We always move to a new town when people start getting suspicious. We've been hiding my entire life."
Ryan stared at his friend—his friend who was currently a seven-foot-tall wolf monster—and tried to make sense of everything. "The phone calls from your mom. She was reminding you about the full moon."
"I got distracted." Kyle's massive head hung low. "I'm usually so careful. I have routines, precautions. But I was having so much fun studying with you, feeling normal for once, that I completely lost track of time."
"This is why you were so shy when you first moved here," Ryan said, the pieces clicking into place. "You were afraid someone would find out."
"Wouldn't you be?" Kyle's yellow eyes met Ryan's. "Look, I understand if you never want to see me again. I'll tell my parents we need to move. You don't have to worry about keeping this secret or—"
"Wait, what?" Ryan interrupted, finding his voice. "Why would I want you to move?"
Kyle blinked in surprise. "Because I'm a monster. Because I lied to you about what I am. Because normal people don't want to be friends with werewolves."
"Dude, we've been friends for months. You think finding out you're a werewolf is going to change that?"
"It... it should," Kyle said uncertainly. "Most people would run away screaming."
Ryan looked at his transformed friend, taking in the massive claws, the intimidating fangs, the glowing eyes. By all rights, he should be terrified. He should be calling the police or the military or whoever dealt with supernatural emergencies. But all he could think about was how miserable Kyle looked, how his wolf ears were pressed flat against his head in shame.
"Kyle, you're still you," Ryan said finally. "You're still the guy who helped me understand calculus. You're still the guy who laughs at my terrible jokes and beats me at every video game we play. You're still my friend."
"But I'm also a werewolf."
"So? I mean, it's definitely weird, don't get me wrong. But it's not like you chose to be one, right?"
Kyle shook his massive head. "It's genetic. I've been transforming since I was twelve."
"Then it's just part of who you are." Kyle was surprised by how calm Ryan sounded. "Do you, uh, do you need to go hunt something? Or satisfy some kind of bloodlust? Because I should probably warn you, the most exciting wildlife in this neighborhood is Mrs. Peterson's cat."
Despite everything, Kyle let out a sound that might have been laughter. "No, nothing like that. I don't hunt people or animals. I'm still me, just... bigger and furry."
"So what do you usually do on full moon nights?"
"Honestly? I stay in my room and play Xbox. The transformation is mandatory, but the whole 'prowling through the forest' thing is optional."
Ryan stared at him for a moment, then burst out laughing. "You're telling me that werewolves just sit around playing video games?"
"This werewolf does. My parents usually watch Netflix. My sister does homework." Kyle's tail gave a small wag. "We're probably the most boring supernatural family in existence."
"That's..." Ryan shook his head, grinning. "That's actually kind of awesome. So you can't change back until morning?"
"Not until the moon sets. I'm stuck like this for the next few hours."
"Well then," Ryan said, getting to his feet and retrieving the fallen soda cans, "I guess we're taking a break from physics. Want to play some Call of Duty? Fair warning though, I might actually have a chance at winning now that you have giant paws instead of fingers."
Kyle stared at him in amazement. "You really want to keep hanging out? Even though I'm... this?"
"Kyle, you're my friend. You think I'm going to let a little thing like lycanthropy scare me off?"
"Most people would consider it a pretty big thing."
"Most people are stupid." Ryan plopped down on his bed and reached for the game controllers. "Besides, this is actually kind of cool. I mean, how many people can say their good friends with a werewolf? I feel like I should get some kind of award for most interesting social life."
Kyle felt something tight in his chest loosen. He'd spent so many years expecting rejection, preparing for the inevitable moment when someone would discover his secret and recoil in horror. But Ryan was just... accepting it. Like it was no big deal.
"Thank you," Kyle said quietly. "For not losing it. For not making me feel like a freak."
"Hey, we're all freaks in our own way." Ryan tossed him a controller, which Kyle caught carefully in his clawed hands. "I mean, I collect vintage comic books and know way too much about Star Trek. You turn into a wolf every month. I'd say we're about even on the weird scale."
As they settled in to play, Kyle felt a warmth that had nothing to do with his transformation. For the first time in his life, someone knew his secret and didn't care. Someone accepted him exactly as he was, fur and fangs and all.
"Ryan?" he said as the game loaded.
"Yeah?"
"You're the best friend I've ever had. I hope saying that doesn't make things weird or anything."
Ryan grinned. "Trust me, weird would have been if we'd actually gotten around to inviting girls over tonight. Can you imagine trying to explain this to Jessica Martinez?"
Kyle's laughter, deep and rumbling in his transformed throat, filled the room. Outside, the full moon continued its journey across the sky, but for once, Kyle wasn't counting the hours until dawn. For once, he was exactly where he wanted to be.
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