Lone Wolf

Chapter 1

High School sucks.

What? Were you expecting a carefully crafted and highly detailed explanation of some social hierarchy that must be followed to a "T" lest the castes mix and anarchy ensue? Unless you haven't been in a typical American high school, or any high school for that matter, you'd know that "social hierarchy" crap is a bunch of bull you'd only see in some movie or tv show for ratings. In actuality, a real high school is more complex than that.

Everyone basically goes through high school feeling about as socially awkward as a baked potato. To make things worse, our bodies are revolting against us as we struggle to navigate our way through puberty. You know, the typical crap like zits appearing at the most inopportune times, sudden growth spurts, and a torrent of new emotions cascading through us at breakneck speeds. Your typical embarrassing pubescent things. It's how well you manage to hide that awkwardness that really defines how socially competent everyone else finds you and how you'll do later in life.

To make things even more awkward, I am a Lycan, a person who can turn into a wolf. It's something I have to hide from the human world. Humans don't exactly take kindly to a Lycan transforming right in front of them. Let's face it. If you suddenly saw a random person sprout fangs, fur and claws, and you didn't know what was going on, you'd freak out too. Thankfully, transforming, or "Going Wolf", is usually controllable, but since it can be deeply tied to our emotions, usually anger, it can be triggered without us wanting it to. Exactly what a very emotionally confused teenager like me doesn't need.

So where do I fall in this whole gambit of social awkwardness, you might wonder? Well, to be honest, I refuse to play into the social expectations that have been placed upon me and opt to spend the most socially heavy part of any high schooler's day in the least likely place anyone would think to socialize.

The school library.

It's usually a place of quiet contemplation where I can peacefully stick my nose in a good book, rather than in someone else's business. However, on this particular day, of all days, I wasn't alone. Like I said, it's usually a place where I can escape the awkwardness outside of the library doors.

Unfortunately, as luck would have it, that day as I went about my business, I couldn't help but notice Charlie Boseman leaning against a book shelf, cocky smirk on his face, looking ready to pour on the insults. It didn't help that he dressed all in black, complete with floor length trench coat, combat boots and bright red dyed hair spiked straight up with what I assumed was a gallon of hair gel.

What exactly was he trying to prove with that getup? That he was to be feared as the next possible threat to our school? Or maybe he was pretending to be that way just to push boundaries and see where he could go? I honestly couldn't decide, nor could I be bothered to care. I decided to pretend the poser wasn't there, like some extension to the book shelf. A weird, ugly extension, but an extension none the less.

"Hey you!" He said, his voice practically dripping with snark.

I continued to read my book, refusing to play into his game.

"I'm talking to you, Red!" He said, raising his voice a decibel or two louder. Did he think I was deaf? Well, at least he wasn't colorblind. My hair was red, albeit a much more natural shade than his garish choice in dye. I'm a natural born ginger. Only one in my family, as a fact.

"Don't ignore me!" His brow furrowed a bit with annoyance now. Good. He recognized my strategy. Maybe he would get the hint and I could finally finish this sentence I've been rereading for the past few minutes.

"I'm not leaving until you talk to me!"

Crap. He wasn't going to let up. I guess ignoring the situation never really works. I sighed heavily and looked up from my book with eyebrow raised.