Mates (ON HOLD)

14. impossible

A/N: Guys, I'm very proud of you all. You've gotten this far without leaving it all behind. Thanks for that.

And to add a little more spice to life besides the beautiful characters obviously, prankcalls has made a gorgeous cover that graces this book now. *applause* so this chapter is dedicated to her and her amazing work.

Enjoy ;)

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C H A P T E R T H I R T E EN:
impossible

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M A T C H E S

"You don't look so hot, Match." Thomas whispered, the clocking ticking slowly towards lunch.

My hand squeezed into a fist, my nose twitching in annoyance. "I don't feel so hot, Tommy." I growled, staring straight towards the letters on the board.

My heads been pounding and every sound is a bomb. The headache medicine Yel gave me this morning did nothing and since third period, a muffling sound erupted. Like someone wanted to speak, was trying to, but a wall of water was between us, their voice barely anything among the everlasting sea of noise. So no, I wasn't great, but lately, none of my days have been all that great.

"I was wondering if you wanted to hang out today." He whispered, glancing between me and our suspicious teacher.

Thinking about it for a moment, I now realized that Thomas didn't live in the pack house, but on his family's on property. I caught my gaze on him for a moment, "Why don't you live at the pack house?"

Raising a brow, he shrugged, "I guess we just...don't, I don't know." He scrunched his eyebrows together, "Why, what's with the abrupt questions?"

"Nothing-I actually don't think I can go." Scratching behind my ear, I glance at him, pushing other voices from my head.

Thomas sighed, exasperated. "Everyone's pissed out on me today." He held up a finger, counting off our friends, "Ro has a club meeting, Gavin's has something with his family, and the other one-"

"-Daniel-"

"Yes, he and his mate-"

"-Trisha-"

"Yeah, they are going to this weird dark Restraunt or whatever." He leans back in his chair, his hands rubbing over his face. "I'm so bored!"

"Are you now, Thomas?" Ms. Petra glared towards us, rolling her piece of chalk between her fingers.

"Uh," he swallowed, sitting up in his chair. "No, not at all, miss."

"So you find these equations fun?" She asked, crossing her arms under her breasts.

Nodding, Thomas leans on his arm, his eyes straying from her face, going a little too low. "Tantalizing, Ms. Petra."
She sighed, turning back around, forgetting about us in the back, her voice continuing on with the lesson. Thomas slid his gaze towards me again. "She's fantastic looking, eh?"

I let out a fake sound of agreement, staring down at my desk. Instead of think about Ms. Petra's set, I find myself straying to a head full of black locks, the way they curl and bounce as their owner walks. I can't remember what his hair smelled like, if it smelled like fresh air or just his shampoo. Now all I want to do, besides obviously figuring out the complicated questions dotting the chalk board, is smell Livator and all his gorgeousness to be presented to me. It's only been a day but combusting is a real thing. Last night, I kept waking up in a cold sweat, whimpers hitting my ear drums every second of the night.