Big Mistake

Chapter 2: Coles POV

[COLES POV]

Connor laughs at something Tina said, something that I'm sure was not remotely funny. But Connor is as desperate as Tina is hot.

"Cole." Connor gives me one of the most fake smiles I've seen in my whole life. "You know you're my best friend in the entire universe, right?"

"What?" He rolls his eyes at my bluntness. He only ever compliments me when he wants something.

"Can you throw this out?" He asks holding up a soda can and giving me another fake smile.

"Why don't you do it yourself?" I roll my eyes and go back to picking at my apple.

"I will send that picture of you wearing a dress from the fourth grade to the entire pack." Rick, who is next to me, and Tina are thankfully the only two close enough to hear this monstrous threat. They both laugh so hard that there are tears coming out of their eyes.

Glaring with as much force as I can, I snatch the can off his tray.
I walk down the row of tables to the trash cans grumbling about my idiotic friends.

For some reason, the air seems charged. As I go to sidestep another student, I knock into someone, hard. Electricity shoots through my body. I've never felt it before, but I've heard stories about finding ones mate my entire life.
I turned sixteen three months ago. My mate hadn't been sixteen at the time, I could feel it.
Now though, now I have her.

I turn immediately, eager to see her face. Stunning eyes stare happily up at me. But they're Charlotte's. Charlotte White's. Connor's sister's.

This is bad. But it's good too.
No. Very bad.
Before she can object, I grab her arm, trying to ignore the tingles I get as I do, and drag her into the hallway.

We stare at each other.

"You're my mate?" Her voice holds excitement and caution and happiness and terror. I try to stop the wave of happiness that follows her words.

The pack hates her.
I should hate her.
Maybe not hate.
Maybe- no I cannot be thinking like this. This is not something for me to contemplate.

But she's so damn gorgeous.
Long brown hair down to her lower back and long black lashes shield violet-blue eyes. A cute button nose sets off her soft features and white teeth stand out from the pink of her lips. They look soft. It's all I can do not to kiss her on the spot.

How can people hate her?
Right, the diary thing.
A little while ago, Connor (for some malicious reason) got ahold of her diary, and put her words everywhere. And I mean everywhere. Internet, posters, mass texts. The whole nine yards. Her personal thought told a lot of hard truths about most of the school. And people hated her for it. Still do. But so do I.
Lies.

They would hurt her though. They wouldn't, couldn't accept her as my mate, their leader. How can I? No. I owe it to my pack.

"We aren't mates. We can't be. You can't tell anyone about this, do you understand?"

"What?" The smile's slipped from her face and all I want to do is run to her and make it come back. "I-what?"

"Are you stupid?" I'm praying I sound mean. She can't know that I'm having an inner battle. No matter how much I want her, I'm doing what's right for my pack. Or maybe I'm just being selfish. Either way, I think I've said too much to go back now.

"Are you?" She doesn't sound angry, just sad.

"What did you just say?"

"One mate. That's what you get. Why would you throw that away?" She snaps back at me.

"I just don't think we'd be very good for each other." I say stiffly. Please tell me this is a nightmare.

"Please, if I was anyone else, you'd be all over me right now. But no, I'm little old Charlie who everyone decided to hate." She looks like she's about to cry. Or slap me. I have to clench my fists to keep my feet planted where they are. "We both know what you're doing. You're running from what the pack thinks of you, thinks of me. You're scared. You're a coward. And you're going to be miserably alone." She turns and abruptly makes her way back to the cafeteria.

I take a moment to collect myself before following her in.

I sit back at my table and bullshit some excuse about needing some air. Out of the corner of my eye I see a certain person talking to her friends. I can pinpoint the exact second she tells them what happens because six sets of eyes turned to glare at me.
Charlotte, Charlie is what she goes by, speaks a few hurried words and they all reluctantly look away from me. 

I hear a squeal and instinctively look to make sure she's safe. I can't do that.
But one of her friends, male I note with a little distaste, is simply squeezing her sides in an attempt to make her laugh.

"She's such a loser." I hear one of the girls at my table mutter, noticing my gaze.

Restraining myself, I respond, "Yeah, a loser."

And right then I realize how difficult this will really be.