Alpha Female (Completed)

Squirl

River's POV

I watch two of the Blue Oak Packs members spare on the mat. A boy and a girl throw uncalculated and clumsy punches at one another.

I try to focus on the match, but their juvenile and careless actions pose no distraction from Riley's sobs. The sound is like nails on a chalkboard to me. I have never been able to stand my pack members distress or pain.

I want to leave, get away from the horrid sound, but I know my peers would then think me weak.

The girl in the match tries to side swipe the boy's feet and he simply pushes over her caress form. She bursts into a fit of laughter and he sits on top of her.

They must be mates.

Coach calls the match and the boy leans down to capture the girls lips in a passionate kiss. I look away, disturbed by the public display of affection. 

As if the situation couldn't get any worse, my eyes interlock with the one and only, Alpha's son, Logan.

My blood boils and I grind my teeth, looking away.

Why did he even have to be here?

His mer existence was enough to agitate me, but his prying gaze sends me over the edge.

I turn away from him as much as I can without showing submission. My skin burns with something I can only describe to be as hate.

------

The lunch bells ring throughout the quiet math classroom and I quickly grab my bag. There is no paper to put away like all the other students, everything we are doing today is review.

Using that fact as an advantage, I swiftly leave the classroom before anyone else. I can feel not only the students, but the teachers eyes on me as I make my way down the hall.

Don't they have anything better to do?

I fell a growl escape my lips and I immediately regretted it.

Stop it! You're being weak.

I take a deep breath and ignored their stares and whispering. My ears pick up on their muffled words.

"Alpha... Black Water......freak".

I froze mid step for only a millisecond at the last word. Looking over at the group of boys I had heard the word from, they simple smile at one another and go back to their chatter.

I feel conflicted. Should I confront them? They wouldn't dare disrespect me again.

But that could cause complications. And we don't want complications.

Briskly making my way to my locker, I take a deep breath and work on unlocking the door.

I remember the code, so I don't bother reviewing the printed set of direction I had accumulated from the front office during my break.

The lock clicks and I open my locker. My first reaction was scream, but I know from the quietness around me, my peers were waiting for a reaction.

I don't know how I hadn't smelt it before, maybe it was because of my stress, or the whispering around me.

Either way, hanging from the top of my locker is a decaying squirrel. The foul smell invades my nostrils and I internally cringe.

My face burns with embarrassment and tears well in my eyes. For the first time in a long time, I want to cry.