Despite staying out late with Dakota, I woke with the sun, and had a wild urge to paint. I pulled a canvas out of my art-suitcase, and some acrylic paint, and began a self portrait. Just the bust of my head, neck, and shoulders, with water around me. I was in the lake, and it was night. With each stroke, I felt the painting come to life. For finishing touches, I dipped my paintbrush in white and tapped it, splattering stars into the background. I set it near the window to dry, and and took Luna for a jog around part of the lake, "Bunny Trail" as I'd heard it called by my Nana a long time ago.

The morning air was still cool. It cleared my mind, although it was hard to believe that last night even happened. How can he and I go from kissing to arguing within minutes? And what does he have against my scars? I grumbled to myself. Luna looked back at me, wagging her tail and panting.

On our way back to the house, Luna and I passed grandpa's art studio, beside the house. After cleaning the whole house, I couldn't find the key anywhere. Maybe it was time to try my hand at lock-picking? I gave it a go, pulling a copper-colored bobby pin out of my hair. Putting it in the lock, I realized T.V. shows hadn't taught me anything about lock-picking, especially if a skeleton key was needed to unlock the door.

I let Luna back into the house, and then came back to the art studio, more eager than ever to get the door open. Little terra-cotta pots were stacked by the side of the studio. I lifted one of the smaller pots and bashed it through the window of the door. The glass shattered, and I carefully poked my arm through, and unlocked the door from the inside. Inside, I realized that the art studio had changed, a lot. Some of the paintings on the gallery wall had remained the same, implying a sense of peace, where as others, more recent paintings, were terrifying. More self portraits, wolves, and slash-art. Long, thick scratches lined the more recent paintings. One was a portrait of my dad, with long slashes across his face, ripping through the canvas. Goosebumps rose along my arms, and the hairs raised on the back of my neck as I concluded that the "scratch-art" I'd seen in the house and now the studio, was not fueled by artistic passion, but by rage.

I jumped about a foot in the air when a voice said behind me

"Hey."

I spun on my heels, still holding the slashed painting of my dad. I gasped,

"Dakota! You scared me."

He had on a crisp white tee and some blue swim trunks. Not his typical home improvement outfit. One of his arms was behind his back. He apologized

"I didn't mean to... I saw that the door was open so I thought I'd say hi. Uh..."

He pulled a bouquet of wildflowers out from behind his back and handed them to me, while saying

"Summer, I'm sorry about last night. I shouldn't have acted like that about your scratches. But we do need to talk about them... scratches in this town mean something... something big."

I raised an eyebrow and said

"Oh please don't tell me 'every scar has a story'. It's cliché."

I put the flowers down on my grandpa's paint table. He shook his head

"Okay, I won't. It's just that... wolf scratches are a big deal in these parts. It kind of matters what wolf scratched you. And when. Would you mind telling me?"

I scrunched my brows and huffed,

"You're still making a big deal about it, Dakota! But to appease you, I was seven and walking on Bunny Trail in the middle of the day, and a wolf came out of nowhere, and scratched me before taking off. I was with Amber and Ivy."

He nodded his head at that, seeming deep in thought, and then gave a casual smile while shrugging his shoulders

"What can I say, I'm a vet. I always want to know about animal bites or scratches... Thanks for telling me."

He clapped his hands and rubbed them together, now trying to lighten the mood. He asked

"I was thinking we could take a day off of home improvements and go swimming in the lake with Fox and Amber. They're already setting up music, food, and blowing up some rafts, as far as I know."

I couldn't stay mad at him, especially if his intentions in talking about my scratches were only because he was looking out for me. I also wanted to see Fox again, and of course re-introduce myself to my cousin Amber, who was only four when I'd last talked to her. I answered, sounding chirpier than intended

"That sounds great. I'll go grab my swimsuit from inside, and get Luna on her leash."

...

Upon meeting eyes with Amber, she ran up to me, embracing me. She mumbled, into my hair

"Hi! It's so good to meet you... again!"

I pulled away, to look at her

"You're so tall, and beautiful! And I love your hair!"

She had a dusty-blonde pixie-cut and wore a black bikini with a cut up rock-band tee over the top of it. Fox gave me a hug next, and I said

"Hey there! Dakota told me your birthday is coming up this week."

He signed to me, and Dakota translated

"I want to plan a movie night, I love action movies. You're totally invited, and the puppy too."

I grinned

"Thanks, Fox! I wouldn't miss it."

The next few days were spent with Dakota, Fox, and Amber watching movies in the town theater that only had one screen, getting sno-cones at the general store, riding bikes along the trails, swimming endlessly in the lake, and finding private moments to sneak kisses with Dakota.

I had heard Dakota quietly ask Amber if she remembered my wolf encounter, but she said she didn't remember a thing before her parents died, and as far as she was concerned, neither did Ivy. I chalked this up to Dakota just being curious about a wolf attack in his hometown.

...

Laughing, I said

"I've never made a cake before, is this even right?"

I pointed at the uneven mound of chocolate cake that I'd just pulled out of the oven. Amber reassured me

"Yeah, it looks great! We just need to frost it, and no one will be the wiser. Fox is gonna love it."

We covered the cake in chocolate frosting and white icing letters that spelled out

"Happy 18th, Fox!"

Amber taped a few blue and yellow streamers around the house while I set up Dakota's projector to play on the white wall adjacent to the couch in the family room. The sound of an engine turning off caught both of our attention, and we said in unison

"They're here!"

Fox was under the impression that Dakota was going to pick us up and we'd all go out for milkshakes at a nearby diner. This would be much better. We opened the door to see not just Dakota and Fox, but two teenagers in their backseat, and another carload full of people behind them Fox waved at us and Dakota said

"I could hardly keep the surprise... Fox figured it out and wanted to invite some friends."

Amber leaned over to me and whispered

"Good thing we made plenty of cake!"

...

Fox opened his presents, and it was evident that his friends knew him well. Some of them were signing, and some weren't. Amber handed him a wood and blue resin skateboard, tied up with a big white bow. Fox looked shocked and elated, and hugged her tightly. When she pulled away, she signed to him, what I'd been told meant: "I've been learning how to sign... and I wanted to say, I love you."

Fox's hazel-green eyes became shiny, and tears threatened to fall down his cheeks. He signed back,

"I love you, too!"

They kissed, in front of all of us, and were publicly no-longer 'just friends'.

...

After the movies had played, high schoolers were lying on the floor with pillows, the chairs, and the couch. Amber and I were the last two awake. I whispered

"Want to go up to my room with me to sleep?"

She nodded and we quietly began walking over snoring party-goers, trying not to wake anyone. I crept over Dakota, who was on the floor, curled around the dog-bed while Luna slept, cuddling him.

Once in my room, illuminated only by the silver glow of an almost-full moon, my heart froze as I saw my painting. Sitting on the easel by the window was the self-portrait I'd made earlier. I blinked twice, then shook my head, trying to change the image I was seeing. But as I drew closer I realized the painting was the bust of a red wolf, with light, piercing blue eyes. The hairs on the back of my neck stood up, and my breathing became shallow. Amber closed the door and turned on the light. As the warm yellow-orange light of the bulbs washed over the room, I watched the red wolf's image dissolve back into the bust of me... its features were somehow similar. Looking at myself, I could almost see the wolf threatening to appear once more. A chill shot down my spine, and I couldn't explain what I'd seen, or maybe hallucinated. But I knew I didn't want to spook Amber, so I feigned normalcy and took a seat on the bed. Amber flopped down face first into the sheets, and murmured

"I am so stressed for August... I bet Fox is, too. Eighteen's the big year."

She rolled onto her back, and I positioned myself to face her

"Why?"

Amber mentioned

"Because when Ivy went through it, she changed. She got meaner, more defensive. I hope that doesn't happen to me too."

Then began to drift off to sleep. I was so confused with our conversation. What made Ivy change? What happens in August? I pondered. I gently nudged her arm

"So what happens in August?"

She scrunched her eyebrows and asked, seeming shocked

"You really don't know, do you? I'm sorry, Summer, but it's not my place to say."

She turned on her side, facing away from me and whispered

"Goodnight."

After turning off the light and avoiding looking at the wolf-portrait, I lied in bed wondering,

What is Morgan, Vermont's big secret?

While simultaneously considering that I might regret finding the answer, and risk losing my love for this house by the lake.