Shadows of the Past

One

The cool, spring breeze wafted around in swirls as the door swung open in front of me. I stepped out onto the concrete and then sharply veered left to the safety of the grass lawn, still patched with melting snow. Students poured out behind me, laughing, sighing, groaning, whatever their mood dictated for the end of the school day. Just by listening, I could tell who had loads of homework, who was just going to nap the afternoon away, and who had a free, relaxing night ahead of them, maybe even some fun planned. Fun was a rarity in high school.

At least it was for me.

"Hey!" My best friend, Skylar, exclaimed, her elbow nudging mine. "What are you looking at?"

I shook my head and snapped from my end-of-the-day-student-watching. Observing people was something I did often. Dad says I get it from Mom, who, according to him, was as quiet as a mouse at my age. That was hard to imagine now.

"Just watching."

"Well, you're going to miss the bus."

With a sigh, I turned to finally look at her. She had her head tilted to the side, the brown curls stiffly sticking out in a wild poof. Her caramel brown eyes shined bright against the cocoa brown of her skin. To say she was pretty was a drastic understatement. And she didn't even know it.

Though, often people would say the same about me. And we looked absolutely nothing alike. In fact, we're completely opposite in appearances, with my sun kissed blonde hair and pale skin I endlessly cursed my mother for passing on to me. But my eyes were what Skylar would call striking. While I inherited my mother's hair and skin, my eyes are in every way my father's. One hundred percent, they're what I was named for.

"Emerald!" Skylar snapped, losing patience. Her eyes lost their shine and her head had straightened. "I'm not kidding. They're on the last call."

"Right, sorry."

Together we pivoted and dashed for our bus, leaping to the steps just before the call for the doors closing. The driver eyed us down her long, skinny nose. Her eyes hard with annoyance. This was not the first time we cut it close.

We pushed our way through the aisle until we found an empty bench near the back. Just as we plopped down, Logan sprung up from behind us.

"One of these times you guys are gonna be forced to walk all the way home."

"Blame your future alpha." Skylar retorted to her younger brother with a jab of her thumb towards me.

"Shh!" We all knew there were humans on the bus, but Skylar sometimes forgot that we weren't always out of earshot. She just rolled her eyes.

Aiden popped up next to his brother, earning an annoyed groan from Skylar.

"Oh whatever," the twelve-year-old snorted. "You'll miss me when you're gone."

Skylar widened her eyes, and her fingers suddenly started picking at their nail beds. My gaze drifted from her hands and up to her brothers. "Gone?"

Aiden instantly tried to cover what he had said, but his eyes were as round and unblinking as a bird's. "Why can't you guys just drive us all so we don't have to ride the bus in the first place?"

"You know why." I said, wanting to direct the conversation back to his previous statement.

"No I don't."

"Yes, you do." And he did. He knew that Skylar was so terrified of being behind the wheel that she refused to try to learn, going as far as breaking down into rib-racking sobs just sitting in the driver's seat. As for me, I wanted to learn and I didn't have a fear like Skylar, but whenever I was behind the wheel—even just for the little parking-lot lessons Dad gave me—I was shockingly bad at it. So, as it was, we were all stuck riding the bus.