Cursed (Book # 3 of Hunted)

First Day of School

I awoke around 6am Monday morning. Class didn't start until 8:50am, but I was too nervous to sleep any longer. I stared at the ceiling for a long minute wondering once again what the classes would be like. I had learned that several of my classes were first year basics, meaning I would be trapped in a classroom with a bunch of preteens. My first class of the day was one such class.

I wasn't too nervous about it. Clay had said that History of the Hunter was a boring class filled with book learning. I was good at book learning. Speaking of which; Phoebe and I had returned home from dinner Sunday evening to find a colossal stack of textbooks waiting for us in front of the door.

There were eleven in total and only three were for Phoebe. The instructors of the White Witch Program apparently followed a more hands on approach and didn't believe the Craft could be learned solely from a book. My professors didn't seem to hold the same view.

I had flipped through most of the textbooks the night before, reading the synopsis for the first few chapters of the Hunter History text. It was interesting stuff and I was excited. The financial algebra and personal finance books were left unopened.

I glanced over at Phoebe's bed and found her fast asleep, snoring softly. Sometimes I envied her ability to push everything aside until she absolutely had to deal with it. I sat up and grabbed one of the textbooks, flicking through it. My night vision had improved dramatically over the last three days, so the gray light of dawn filtering through the thin curtain covering the room's only window was quite enough to read by. Phoebe said it was this place. There was so much magic in the air it was palpable.

I read for about an hour. By this time, the sun had fully risen. Time to get ready. I flicked on the lamp resting on the small chest of drawers between our beds and Phoebe groaned rolling over to face the opposite wall. I set my book down and climbed stealthily out of bed before pouncing on top of her yelling, "First day of school! First day of school!"

She let out a cranky meowing sound and bundled herself up tighter in the puffy blue comforter. I shook her and whined, "Come on, Pheebs, it's after seven and I don't want to go to breakfast alone."

"Seven?" she groaned, "Classes don't even start until almost nine!" I hopped off her bed and grabbed the back pack I had brought from home. There were some basic supplies like notebooks and pencils already inside. I was hoping whatever else I needed would be provided. If not, I would make Keegan take me shopping on Saturday.

"I want lots of time to get ready," I said stuffing my Hunter History and Financial Algebra textbooks into my bag. I would come back during the lunch break to get the books for my afternoon classes.

"You mean you were too nervous to stay in bed any longer," she muttered sitting up and rubbing her face.

"I have no idea what you're talking about," I sniffed clutching my backpack to my chest. She was right. I had been shivering incessantly since I woke up and the dorms were kept at a comfortable 74 degrees Fahrenheit.

"Should we wear our uniforms to breakfast?" I asked walking over to my closet.

"I'm not," she said rolling out of bed and reaching for her Hello Kitty bath robe. I raised my eyebrows and asked, "Really?" She shrugged and replied, "We've seen kids in their pajamas in the mess hall almost every morning."

"That doesn't mean we have to be like those slackers," I exclaimed.

"I'm not slacking," she said tightening the fluffy pink belt around her narrow waist, "I'm prioritizing comfort over the need to conform to societal norms."

"You could be a politician with words like those," I said and she smirked. Then she grabbed onto my arm and started pulling me towards the door.

"Wait!" I exclaimed, "Can I at least put a bra on? My tits aren't as easy to cover up as yours."

"Uh!" she squeaked clasping her hands over her small chest. "I'll have you know that I am still growing! And besides--" She threw her arms in the air and shimmied her hips saying, "Who needs tits with an ass like this?" We both broke down laughing and I quickly threw on a sports bra under a t-shirt and a pair of sweatpants.

We started downstairs, following the thin trickle of other third year students. We hadn't shared many words with the other people in the dorm. It was kind of strange. I had expected a party every night in a building full of teenagers. Maybe there just weren't that many. That would change after today.

"Your mess or mine?" I asked as we reached the ground floor.

"Depends on if you want something hot or cold," Phoebe replied. She was right. The Brownie was a phenomenal chef who could whip up almost anything cooked, but if you wanted fresh produce, the Witches side was the place to go. That Xania could make a sweet green summer berry salad that would make your eyes roll up in your head. Anyway, I thought the Brownie got mildly offended when you asked for something fresh, like you didn't appreciate his ability to cook.

We stepped outside and shivered. It was a lot cooler in the mornings up here than back at home. We looked at each other and in unison said, "Hot," before starting towards the Hunter's mess hall.