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arms reaching. “Got it?” he repeated with more force.
    Now they answered. “Got it,” the leader agreed, intimidated. He knew when he was up against a bigger bully.
    Bear nodded. “Spread the word. It annoys me when kids are stupid. I don’t want to have to do this again.”
    The two of us walked on, leaving the bullies behind. “That was something!” I said, awed.
    â€œWeres look out for Weres.”
    â€œYou sure looked out for me! But I don’t know how I can repay the favor.”
    Bear shrugged. “You don’t have to. Just be my friend.”
    â€œI’ll be your friend,” I agreed, dazed.
    He walked me to my schoolroom, then went on to his. I was in third grade, he in fifth grade, same school.
    Between classes I passed the bullies in the hallway. They completely ignored me. They had gotten the message. They never bothered me again.
    I walked home with Bear, not for protection but because I liked him. He was the first boy who had stood up for me. Also, there was this “Were” business. He could Change into a bear, and he was sure I could do something similar. I wanted to know what. There was something about him I could sense; it could be that I was picking up on his Wereness, as he said Weres could recognize each other. We walked to and from school regularly thereafter, and no one ever even looked askance. The word had indeed gotten around. Just as well, because if they ever tried to gang up on Bear, he could Change and really maul them.
    I looked up WereWolf in my dictionary, and learned that it meant man-wolf: a man who could become a wolf. Or, in India, a tiger, or in South America, a jaguar. There were many types, and certainly a WereBear was within the framework. Were obviously meant man as in mankind, not gender, so theoretically there would be female Weres too. So was I a wolf? Bear didn’t think so; he called me odd, with no disparagement. What could be odd to a Were?
    Time passed, and I studied the subject without letting others know. I knew that just as there was continuing if muted prejudice against minorities, such as foreigners, Jews, or gays, it wouldn’t be muted against Weres. The consensus seemed to be that there were limits, such as the conservation of mass: there could not be a WereHummingbird or a WereElephant. Bear was a big boy and a small bear. Whatever I was had to be my same weight.
    One day I passed a new girl in the school hall, and felt it: she was a Were! I halted, turning to look at her, only to find her doing the same. “You’re one!” she breathed.
    â€œCan we meet after school?” I asked. She was ordinary, neither pretty nor plain, with short curly brown hair and brown eyes, but her Were-aura made appearance almost irrelevant. In fact it made her supremely attractive to me.
    â€œYes!” She was reacting to me the way I was reacting to her. We were like two magnets.
    We did meet in the few minutes before she had to board her school bus home. We exchanged introductions. She was Molly, my age of eleven, just transferred here because of brutal teasing at her prior school.
    â€œI know how it is,” I said. “You must meet my friend Bear.”
    â€œIs he—?”
    â€œYes. He scared off the bullies.”
    â€œGirls are mean in different ways.”
    â€œBut maybe he can help. Look, Molly, can you miss the bus? I know my folks will drive you home if I ask them to. We’ve just got to get to know each other better.”
    â€œThe bus is worse than the classes,” she said, signaling her acceptance of the deal.
    I took her to meet Bear. He too spotted her nature instantly, and she his. They shook hands. “I’m a bitch,” she said. “A female wolf.”
    â€œI’m a bear, like my name.”
    â€œI don’t know what I am,” I said, feeling vaguely excluded.
    The three of us walked to my home, talking all the way. Bear left us there, and I