Alpha's Curse

Chapter 2: Second Encounter

The next morning comes too soon, beginning with the sound of Panic! At the Disco blaring at me for an alarm. Mom is in the kitchen making breakfast, judging by the amount of pots and pans being clattered and clanged together. I dress in dark wash skinny jeans and a red long sleeve, letting my hair fall in it's natural waves around my shoulders and decide on my Converse for shoes today. My book bag is a solid weight against my hip as I go into the kitchen.

"Morning," Mom chirps. I grimace.

"It is way too early for you to be this happy. Are you ready to go?"

"Don't you want breakfast?" Her shoulders fall. "I was making omelets."

I can't take her puppy dog eyes and tell her I'm not hungry, so I sit down and scarf down the meal. The eggs are rubbery, the cheese is gooey, the mushrooms taste like crap, and she put way too much salt on the plate, but her eager gaze is too difficult to disappoint so I fake a happy hum and smile instead of gag.

"Really good," I tell her. She beams at me with pride and the eggs taste a tiny bit less rubbery. I eat tasting as little as I possibly can, and then we're out of the house and going down our mountain to the school. Surprisingly, it's only a fifteen minute drive to the high school.

Acorn Ridge High is painted in brick red and dark beige. It's a tiny campus with what looks about five different sections: math, science, English, history, and elective courses. The entire set up is covered in peeling paint and creaking wood. It's really old; that much is obvious. I clench my teeth, square my shoulders, and climb out.

In the office, there's a crabby older lady with red hair toppled on the top of her head and wire-rimmed glasses perched on the edge of her nose. "How can I help you?"

I shift impatiently and glance around. Luckily, no one form yesterday is here yet. "Um, hi. I need a schedule print-out. I enrolled a few days ago. My name is Shylah Montgomery?"

She raises her gaze and her eyes narrow. "School started a few months ago, Ms. Montgomery."

I clench my teeth. "I understand that," I tell her tightly, attempting to be polite. "But I wasn't given a choice in moving."

She simply grunts, tapping a few keys and then clicking. "Your schedule's printing now. Where did you move from?"

"California," I answer. She opens her mouth to ask a question, but the printer starts to hum and grunt and I walk over to grab it. It takes another two minutes of tense, almost-painful noises coming from the ancient machine before the page is actually spit out. On the paper is a block of six classes, with the teacher's names and room numbers. I have Algebra 2, Chemistry, Animal Behavior Studies (ABS), English 12, Econ/Government, and finally, a whole period to play on computers. Thankfully.

"Thank you, ma'am," I say, struggling not to snap. She just hums a little, like the thought of me thanking her was disgusting enough. So when it becomes clear that she's not going to say anything back, I shrug my book bag around to my other shoulder and leave the office, glaring down at the paper. Sadly, it's started raining now and my schedule is soon polka-dotted with water. Frowning, I wipe it away, and scowl when the spots don't go away. I keep walking, but my shoulder clashes with another and I look up.

"Hey, watch--." I stop, mid-growl. It's him-mister-tall-dark-and-handsome, amber-eyed and looking really disgruntled. "Sorry," I say quickly and try to escape, but he grabs my wrist. Anger flares in my chest.

"You were there," he states. His eyebrows dip down into a scowl, his eyes darken into a dark honey. Not so much disgruntled as he is angry now. "In the woods, yesterday." He sniffs. "What-who are you?"