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“Aria, no.” Dad turned to face me, tone firm and expression firmer. “We have no idea if they’re acting alone. You could be taken completely off-guard. It’s not happening.”

Frustration welled up inside me, but I knew this was how the conversation would go.

“I know you want to help,” Dad added softly, pulling me in for a gentle hug. “But we just don’t have enough information. They have the element of surprise, and until they don’t—”

“Well, what if they didn’t?” The gears started clicking in my head, excitement replacing rage as an idea began to take shape. “Dad, what if we knew who attacked me that night?”

“But we don’t,” Dad began firmly.

“But we could.” I pushed myself onto my feet, adrenaline pumping through my system as I began pacing back and forth. “What if I did go to the game this Saturday? If they knew I was going, they’d come and wait to get me alone.”

Dad pinched the bridge of his nose, taking a deep, loud breath before speaking obnoxiously slowly. “Aria, I’m not letting you turn yourself into bait. That’s far too risky.”

“It would only be assumed bait,” I insisted. “At that point, it’s just figuring out who’s a werewolf and who isn’t! Minus Clyde and Aiden, of course, because they’re sort of stuck there.”

“Sweetheart, I don’t know every wolf in the pack,” Dad began.

“And you don’t have to.” I gestured toward the door, a smile spreading across my face. “Noah showed me a way for them to out themselves. It’d just be a matter of Lowell telling the pack to stay away from the game. Maybe some important, made-up event. But if someone really wants to get me, they’ll ignore it.”

“Aria—”

“Please, Dad?” This was insane; I was willingly throwing myself into danger for something that, by all accounts, wasn’t my fight. I had been attacked, sure, but what the hell was I gonna do against a giant wolf? Still, that burning desire in my chest wouldn’t go away, urging me to do this. “You have to know this hiding-me-away plan isn’t viable. Mom wouldn’t—” I paused, breath catching in my chest.

“Mom wouldn’t want this kind of life for you,” Dad finished somberly. He sighed, running his hand through thinning hair as he mulled my words over. “I know you well enough to say you’d try this regardless. So, alright. I’ll call the mayor and tell him the plan. But you stay out of harm’s way. If it comes down to it, I don’t want to see you running into danger.”

I couldn’t help myself from smiling, throwing myself forward for another hug. It was something I immediately regretted, though, when I bumped my cast against Dad’s chest. But at least he was willing to try.

At least I could do something.

Chapter Eighteen  

S

aturday could not have come any slower. I was listless, pacing around the house and in constant contact with either Noah, Aiden, or Clyde. They were just as wary of the plan as Dad was, but I managed to convince them it was our best shot. And so, nighttime fell as Dad drove me toward Ayersville High, with me unable to stop staring out the window.

“You gonna be okay?” he asked. “If you’re reconsidering this…”

I shook my head, focusing straight forward as another throb ran across my stitches.

We pulled up to the front parking, wanting my arrival to be as public as possible. Laura waved from the doors, excitedly chatting away as we entered the gym together.

“I-I’m actually excited to be at one of these, for once.” She beamed. “Of c-course, I’m always here for, um, Noah. But it’ll b-be nice to have s-someone to sit with.”

I almost felt guilty about dragging her into this, but Laura was my best chance to look natural. “I’m surprised Noah was cool with us sitting so close to the game itself. Then again, I’m sure he’d be lost without my coaching expertise.”

I took a quick glance behind my shoulder, watching my dad break off into the crowd and slip into the darkness of the back. Having him with me might spook my attacker; he’d be better suited to the background.

“Oh! I s-see some folks have already, um, signed your cast?” Laura gestured to the scribbles along the length of my arm. “Ah, I-I’ll have to sign once the game is over, too.”

“Yeah,” I replied with a crooked smile. “You’ll have to do that for sure.”

The gymnasium was a cacophony of chatter, stands completely packed with both the home and opposing townsfolk. I briefly caught sight of Mrs. Lowell in the stands, looking just as into tonight’s game as every other parent. As soon as she saw me, her expression softened, a slight nod cast my way before she turned.

So, Mr. Lowell kept the others away.

The referee’s whistle went off as everyone settled into their seats, Laura and I taking up one of the bleachers close beside the team’s. Aiden and Clyde made sure to sit far enough away so as to not draw suspicion, but both of them made sure to glance my way and give reassurance—Aiden with a sweet smile and Clyde with a deadpan scowl, masking whatever nerves he was feeling for tonight.

Now, I just had to wait.

The game started soon after, both teams filling up the court before the first whistle blew. The ball went spinning in the air, Aiden managing to snatch it out of the air before tossing it down court. Clyde seemingly appeared out of nowhere, catching the ball and dribbling past a number of waving hands before landing the first point of the game. As much as the plan weighed on my mind, it was hard not to get into the spirit of it all. The crowd’s energy was electric, crackling in highs and lows with every misstep or perfect shot. If someone had told me Clyde and Aiden were enemies, I would’ve thought they were crazy. The synergy they shared was unnatural, guarding the other when in duress and seemingly exactly where the ball flew when need be. When they didn’t have their heads shoved up their asses, they were an incredible team.

Plus, I wasn’t against watching them run in those baggy shorts.

“Glad you could make it tonight, Aria.” Noah’s voice cut through my fantasy, pulling me back to reality. He had a small smile on his face, fingers fidgeting with the whistle around his neck.

I simply nodded, focus sharp once again. Noah turned his back to me and seemed to watch the game progress, finger tapping away at his clipboard at some unseen beat. Then, as the opposing team managed a three-point shot, he pulled the whistle out and blew into it with everything he had. “Time out! I wanna talk strategy!”