I was too innocent to know exactly what he was doing, but I knew I wished I could help. When I offered, however, Nick frowned at me.
“No, that wouldn’t be right,” he said shortly. “You’re my sister, Kira—we can’t do any more than what we’re already doing.”
I nodded but I didn’t lose hope. I knew he wanted me with the same intensity I wanted him. It was magic when we touched—electricity seemed to jump between us. It was like we belonged together and our bodies had just now figured that out. So I was pretty sure that at some point we would get there—probably after we finally got out of the Spauldings’ house, I told myself.
Only we didn’t get the chance. Because a week after Nick and I started making out, everything changed.
TWENTY-ONE
It was after an especially intense make-out session the night before that I woke up with my breasts feeling swollen and tender. I gasped in pain as the sleeping bag rubbed against my tight nipples—what was going on?
Sitting up, I looked down at myself only to see that there were two wet patches over my nipples. I frowned—what the hell?
I pulled up my ragged sleep shirt to see that my nipples were wet and shiny in the early morning light that filtered in through the gaps in the barn walls. A sunbeam was falling through the crack in the wall above my head and I maneuvered to get a better look in the light.
What I saw brought a gasp to my lips.
My breasts were leaking—actually leaking. Not milk but a clear, amber liquid that was sticky like syrup or honey when I rubbed it between my thumb and finger.
“Oh no…God, no!”
I turned in surprise to see a look of absolute horror on Nick’s face. He had woken early too and had apparently been watching me while I looked at the mysterious liquid dripping from my nipples.
“Nick?” I asked, too surprised by the look on his face to even cover myself. “Do you know what this is? What’s wrong with me? What’s happening?”
“It’s not supposed to happen!” he exclaimed. Already he was out of the sleeping bag and getting dressed. “You’re only half Were! God, Kira, I’m so sorry—this is all my fault.”
“What’s your fault? What’s happening to me?” His panic was catching—the last few cobwebs of sleep were blown out of my brain by an icy wind.
“It’s a Were thing but it’s not supposed to happen to you—it wouldn’t have happened if I hadn’t let us do what we did. We never should have!”
He was practically babbling now. I reached out to him but he shied away.
“Nick, please—you’re scaring me! I don’t understand!” I cried.
“I have to go.” He was fully dressed now and keeping his distance from me so I couldn’t touch him. “Maybe if I go and leave you alone, it will stop. It’s the first time, after all—it should be okay as long as I leave.”
“Leave? What are you talking about? Nick, please—don’t go!” I begged.
He gave me a last, agonized look.
“I’m so sorry, Kira—this is all my fault. My fault for loving you more than I should.”
I shook my head, tears coming to my eyes.
“Nick, please—”
But he was already leaving, practically running from the barn in his haste to get away from me.
I stared after him, not understanding what was going on. Why had he run away from me like that? And what was going on with my breasts? Clearly he knew something about it, but he wouldn’t tell me.
I sniffed and swiped at my eyes. I would try to corner him at school to see what he knew. In the meantime, all I could do was stuff some tissues in my bra to try and soak up the slow droplets of honey-like stuff still coming from my nipples. Surely I could get Nick to tell me something once he calmed down…
Only he wasn’t at school. I looked everywhere for him and couldn’t find him. By the time last period rolled around, I was getting desperate. I cornered one of Nick’s buddies and asked him if he knew where Nick was. He shrugged.
“Dunno. I just figured he was sick today. Which is weird, you know? ‘Cause Nick is like, never sick.” He frowned. “Why—is something wrong?”
“I don’t know,” I said numbly. “Maybe.”
Maybe Nick had stayed in the woods around the house all day, I thought. Maybe he was upset about what was happening to me and was trying to clear his head. Maybe he would be there when I got home, ready to make up and explain.
That was the thought that got me on the late bus to go home. I never should have done it—never should have gone back to the Spauldings’ house without Nick for protection. But I was so desperate to see him and I couldn’t think where else he might have gone.