The Completely and Totally Average Life of Ryder Stark

Pack Life

Hoots of excitement came from all corners of the school. The end of the first day had finally arrived. The teenage pack members that still attended high school numbered to around twenty, and instead of riding the bus like normal students, the pack car pooled so that we did not reveal the location of our pack house. Although we have the option to live in the community nearest to our home, our Alpha prefers that we are all close knit in the large set of mansions just outside of town.

Our somewhat small pack of seventy resided in a rural town in Illinois. Our winters were cold and our summers hot. I love it here and cannot imagine why any of our pack would leave. I only ever remember one small family leaving our pack. The breaking of the mind link connection gave me a headache...

As I moved towards my black Jeep three other pack members, James, Frankie, and his mate Lynne followed and hopped in. Everyone was laughing and joking until I heard an angry voice in my head.

RYDER KYLE STARK! I cannot believe that you would influence Sebastian like that! You are so grounded!

My mother, although unhappy with my actions, would never actually follow through with grounding me. Young when she met my father, her mate, my mother birthed me at age 18. At the ripe age of 36 she is the pack music teacher.

You're probably thinking "Music teacher? Wolves don't need music." You're dead wrong. In my world humans look to religion as we look to music. Music is very spiritual to us, helping us connect to our roots and to the Spirits that influence our lives. Because of this my mother holds a highly regarded position in our pack.

I pulled into the garage, aheming to the back seat where Lynne and Frankie were making out. Neither James nor I had met our mate, and the over use of PDA weirded us both out.

I slammed my four and called to the backseat. "Please refrain from getting any more bodily fluids than necessarily on the upholstery. Thanks."

Both wolves blushed and looked up to me. "Sorry man. You'll understand some day." James gave me a wolfy grin.

I sighed and walked into the house. The beautiful chords of Beethoven's Moonlight Sonata wrapped me with a soothing warmth. I bet you didn't know that Beethoven was a werewolf. What else explains that crazy hair and his foul attitude?

I approached the music room and found my mother swaying as she delicately created the charming tune. I waited, leaning on the door frame, and listened as the music made my heart swell. Once she was done she turned to me and smiled. "It's so difficult to stay angry with you when you're such a good kid."

The passion that my mother has for music is absolutely inspiring. She is constantly humming or tapping to the beat in her head. The fact that I share that passion has always influenced her to have a soft spot for me. My little brother, on the other hand, not so much...

She stood and embraced me. "How was your first day?"

I shrugged in response. "It's the same thing every year."

"And how was the pizza?" My mother gave me a look and snatched my hat from my head, sprinting away.

I grinned and chased after her. One of the coolest things about having a werewolf mom is that she won't grow old and tired for several decades. I caught up to her after dodging several other pack members including two pregnant women, a couple in the midst of making out, and a gaggle of children.

As I caught her hand, she spun around and plopped the hat back on my head. I grinned, breathing heavily, and hugged her, lifting her feet a few inches off the ground. Her petite frame was nothing for me, even without the wolf strength. Although most other teenagers, including wolf teenagers, would never admit that their best friend was their mother. But here I am, proudly stating that Andrea Stark would forever hold a very special place in my heart.

"Ryder, would you mind putting my mate down?" I turned to see my father approaching, smiling evenly at us, his green eyes glowing with love. Adam Stark, my father, is the total opposite of me. His deep black hair clashed with my light brown, and he was literally a foot taller at me. I'm not the tallest wolf in the pack at 5'10, but Dad towers over me at his 6'5'. If I wasn't identical to my mother, then I would almost think that I was adopted.

He embraced my mother, kissing her softly. Gag. Even though I admire their love, it's not something I want to see.

"Gross. I'll leave you two to making out. I've got some homework to do."

They responded by waving at me, never breaking the kiss.

Grody. That image will never get out of my head.