Twilight Midnight Moon

Chapter 7: The Pack Without Wolves

“Bro, there’s no way you’re gonna win this one,” Quil said, shaking his head as he stood on the side of the court, arms crossed. His smug grin was impossible to ignore.

I wiped the sweat off my forehead and gripped the basketball a little tighter. Embry was beside me, catching his breath, eyes locked on the hoop. The sound of sneakers squeaking against the pavement echoed around us, and the familiar scent of saltwater mixed with the cool air from the ocean. It was a perfect Saturday afternoon for a game.

“Let’s see about that,” I muttered, bouncing the ball a couple of times.

Embry laughed, jogging back a few steps to take his place on defense. “Man, you can’t take a loss, can you?”

“Who says I’m losing?” I retorted, dribbling around him.

Embry’s grin widened as he blocked my path, but I twisted past him with ease and lined up for the shot. My body moved on instinct, the ball leaving my fingers with a smooth arc toward the hoop. It was a perfect shot—or at least I thought so, until Quil jumped up and swatted it out of the air with one well-timed leap.

“Boom!” Quil yelled, running past me, fist-pumping as he retrieved the ball and made his way down the court. “You’re gonna have to do better than that!”

I groaned and ran after him, laughing despite myself. This was typical—every weekend, the three of us found some way to compete. Whether it was basketball, racing on the beach, or who could fix up a car the fastest, we were always pushing each other. We weren’t wolves, not yet, but sometimes it felt like we were still in a pack, just without the fur.

“Alright, alright, let’s take five,” Embry called after Quil’s winning shot, panting as he collapsed onto the ground next to the court.

I grabbed my water bottle and threw myself down next to him, while Quil walked over, still looking too pleased with himself. He flopped down onto the grass beside us, the sun casting long shadows over the basketball court as the day started to slip into late afternoon.

“You guys are getting slower,” Quil teased, cracking open a soda and taking a long sip. “I might need to find new opponents.”

“Or maybe you’re just too cocky,” I shot back, shaking my head. “One win and you think you’re unbeatable.”

“I’ve won three times, dude.”

“Details,” I muttered, waving him off. “It’s all about the next game.”

Embry laughed, his arm flung over his face to block out the sun. “I swear, you two have been talking like this since elementary school.”

“Hey, it keeps things interesting,” I said, grinning. “Can’t let Quil get too comfortable.”

Embry rolled his eyes but didn’t argue. The three of us had been tight for as long as I could remember. It was just easy, being around them—no complications, no drama, just a solid friendship that had lasted through all the growing pains of high school and whatever weird changes were on the horizon.

“So, what’s the plan for the rest of the day?” Quil asked, stretching his arms above his head. “Are we just gonna keep shooting hoops, or are we doing something actually fun?”

“I’m down for whatever,” Embry said, though he didn’t sound too eager to get up. “As long as it’s not another car project. We’ve been stuck under Jacob’s Rabbit for the past week.”

“Hey, my car needed the work,” I protested, though I couldn’t deny we’d spent way too much time in the garage lately.

“I’m just saying,” Embry replied with a smirk, “there’s more to life than fixing up old clunkers.”

Quil raised an eyebrow. “More to life? Like what? You suddenly got a date with some girl you haven’t told us about?”

Embry’s face flushed, and I couldn’t help but laugh. “Busted!”

“Nah, man, it’s not like that,” Embry said quickly, though the embarrassed look on his face told us otherwise.

“Come on, spill it,” Quil said, grinning like a shark. “Who is it? Someone from school?”

Embry shrugged, trying to play it cool, but it was obvious we weren’t letting him off the hook. “Maybe.”

“Ah, maybe, he says,” I teased, nudging him with my elbow. “Alright, give us something. At least a name.”

He groaned, covering his face. “You guys suck.”

“True,” Quil said, still grinning. “But we won’t stop asking until you tell us.”

Embry peeked out from between his fingers, finally giving in. “Alright, fine. Her name’s Anna. She’s in my history class.”

Quil sat up straight, eyes wide. “Anna? The new girl? Dude, she’s way out of your league.”

Embry punched him in the arm. “Shut up, man. She’s cool.”

I laughed, leaning back against the grass. “Well, at least now we know why you’ve been so distracted lately. You’re making moves, huh?”

Embry shook his head, though he was smiling. “It’s not like that. We’ve just been talking, that’s all.”

“Sure, sure,” I said, grinning. “Talking’s where it all starts.”

We all fell quiet for a moment, the playful banter giving way to a comfortable silence as we stared up at the sky. The clouds above were thick, hanging low over the horizon, but there was something peaceful about the stillness of the afternoon. Days like this reminded me why I loved La Push. It wasn’t just the ocean or the woods—it was the feeling of being home, of having my friends by my side.

After a while, Quil broke the silence. “So, what’s next? Are we hitting the cliffs or what?”

Embry groaned again, though this time it was more dramatic. “Do we have to?”

“Definitely,” I said, grinning. “Race you there?”

Before they could argue, I was on my feet and sprinting toward the path that led to the cliffs. Quil and Embry were right behind me, laughing and shouting as we raced through the trees, the sound of the ocean growing louder with each step.

This was what I lived for—these moments with my best friends, when the rest of the world faded away, and it was just us. No complications, no worries, just pure adrenaline and freedom. We weren’t wolves yet, but there was something wild in us, something that would always pull us toward the edge.

And as we reached the cliffs, panting and out of breath, I couldn’t help but feel like, for now, this was enough.