Screamed 'I Hate You's and Whispered 'I Love You's.

(This Is Griffon & Maeve's Story)

POV of Maeve

Being an eight year old for me was difficult. I watched as all my friends run around in the backyard, playing hopscotch or shifting into the beautiful big wolves and wrestling. I'd be stuck inside, reading a book and nibbling on the bottom of my straight, bright red hair.

Griffon, who was my best friend when I was little would smile his crooked teeth smile and wave for me to come outside. But, the other's always said they didn't want me to play with them, and even though that made Griffon mad, he went along with it. I remember he used to sneak into my bedroom at night, apologize for everything that went wrong that day. He'd give me hugs when I cried and encourage me to speaking to some one about my insecurities. I was too nervous to talk to my parents, and at the time I blamed them for everything that was happening to me.

They were the ones that told me to stay inside and study, and my daddy would always make sure the boys didn't talk to me. My mommy used to say I looked too old for my age, and I never understood why the big high school boys would follow me home, complimenting me when their were other girls they could be flirting with.

The girls hated me. I don't know why, but I'd always be crying. My hair was gross and too bright, I was too fat to hang out with them. Freckles were cool, and I didn't have any. Curly hair was better then my straight hair. Having an velvet colored wolf was weird- everything was wrong with me. Everything about me, the girls absolutely hated and wanted me to do the opposite.

So, I suppose I felt grateful when mom and daddy told me I had made it into St. Louis's Academy. Even though it was so far away, mom told me I could make more friends, make better friends then ever before. I was so freaking excited I forgot all about Griffon. I forgot to tell him I was leaving. Even worse, I forgot to tell him good bye.

9 years later!

 

At the age of seventeen, I had broken out of that old habit of being extremely shy. It took me two weeks at this school to get the guts to say hello to someone. They were nicer here, and even though they had strange voices, ones different then mine, I had grown immune to being around people.

I had gotten a lot of very close friends, a lot of them female too. I was more then surprised when they talked to me, complimented me and everything. I had a few male friends, two of them were gay, because as I learned the hard way- almost every guy at this school is a complete playboy.

They all had a British accent, and I loved it. I envied it completely. After two years, I couldn't even hear the accent's anymore, and when I spoke to mum and daddy over the phone, they laughed about how I had one too now.

Now that I was seventeen and in my final year of secondary school, my parents believed it would be best if I went back home to the pack, because I'd be taking over my father's Beta Position once I turned eighteen.

For the first time in nine years, I confidently walked onto an aeroplane and took a seat in on the cushioned seats.

I kicked my trainers up on the seat in front of me, silently hoping that some crazy loon wasn't about to sit down next to me.

As I wished, a normal looking house mum sat next to me, she babbled on the whole time about her soccer son that was making a good living. She was definitely too optimistic, and it sort of sounded like she wanted me to meet her son.

My phone vibrated, and I quickly flipped it open, just as the plane was landing.

Miss you babes;*