Chapter Eighteen

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 Mara Leigh

Xander had ran me out of his office thirty minutes ago when he'd got a phone call that he didn't want me overhearing. So I sat in the living room, playing with Blythe's kitty. The little yellow ball of fur was jumping from one side of the recliner to the other, pouncing on something that wasn't really there. 

Watching it play made me homesick. I missed my Palace and Duffy, who was still in Missouri with Aunt Trina. I didn't know whether I should bring up getting her back to Xander or not. As much as I wanted Duffy with me, bringing her up would also bring up the fact that I ran. And then there was the fact that Aunt Trina probably thought Beau and I were married by now.

Xander's hands picking up the kitty brought me out of my thoughts.

"You okay?" he asked. "I've been calling you for a while."

I nodded, looking at him. It'd been a long day, and I was tired from when Ella had freaked out early that morning. Following Xander back to his office, I thought about how she'd been. I'd never thought I'd see her cry. At school she'd seemed like such a strong person.

But Xander had explained to me this morning who Garrett was, and I had a new sympathy for Ella. It didn't explain why she hated me though.

"Why does Ella hate me?" I wondered, sitting on the floor beside his seat, knowing my sitting on the floor irritated him.

"She doesn't hate you," he said, typing on his computer. "Her wolf isn't very fond of you, though."

"Then why would she be so mean to me?"

He stopped typing and turned his chair to the side, facing me. "What exactly has she done to you, Mara Leigh?"

I bit my lip, trying to decide which ones to tell him about. I settled on a few that stuck in my mind the most.

"In sixth grade we had a small dance party, and I bought a new dress for it. She came up to me at the beginning and told me it made me look like I had elephant legs. I tried to ignore her, but she kept at it, calling me names and making comments. Finally I decided to go home early."

He was quiet, waiting for more. 

"She always picked on the clothes I wore. One day in eighth grade she cornered me in front of our gym class and told me that holey jeans were in, and that I should do myself a favor and invest in a pair. In my class after gym, people were laughing at me. The teacher had to tell me that there was a giant hole cut out in the butt of my pants. She'd done it."

"Is there more?" he asked quietly. 

"A lot more," I laughed sadly. "The latest was that she got me suspended. Even though she started the fight by cutting a big strand of hair from my head. So we fought and got suspended. I had to get my hair cut after that, it was so bad."

He was quiet, rubbing his temples. I could tell he was trying not to get mad. Finally he looked at me.

"I'm sorry for what she did," he said. "The bond makes us do crazy things, I can attest to that. But I wish you wouldn't have had to go through that."

Same here, I thought.

"Don't punish her though," I told him. If it was the bond, I could forgive her now that things had worked out how they had. If she was just a butthole, then it'd be harder to forgive, but I could ignore her.

He laughed shortly. "I don't have to. Beau is taking care of it."

He just called him Beau, I realized, smiling. Then it hit me what he'd meant. 

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