The Lycanthrope Club( ON HOLD)

Nyctopilia

Had this up later than I expected, but still its Wednesday!

ENJOY

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I  was speechless. This person in front of me didn't look like a drug dealer. Or a thug. He was trouble with a capital 'T'. And he just told me to get lost.

Like he didn't beat the crap out of some guy yesterday. Like he hadn't tried to assult me.

Like he didn't know me.

Looking into his eyes now I didn't see any hint of recognition. To him what happened last night didn't concern me in any way, because I was just a new kid who, by the look on his face, pissed him off- and holy crap. I'm his partner.

I didn't notice until now that we had an audience. Everyone in class was looking in our direction, waiting for something to happening. I've seen enough of those type of stares to know exactly what was going on here. That maybe Mr. Wilder didn't have a partner for currently obvious reasons. And I must remind myself yet again that I am his partner.

Normally this wouldn't bother me, but seeing as I know his extracurricular activities, I didn't think my sarcastic charms could move him. But it didn't hurt to try.

Preparing myself for failure I smiled. "I think we started wrong. I'm Renee Little, me and my family moved here the other day. I guess I have the wonderful opportunity of being your partner."

He simply raised an eyebrow. "I don't know what I did to get your panties in a twist, since we just met by the way, and smile anymore bigger you just might crack your face."

With that he turned back around to continue doing exactly nothing. I didn't know if I deserved that, but I had to remind myself that this guy was a jerk.

 "You're just a ray of sunshine aren't you? I was serious about the C+ thing. What's your grade in here?" Glaring at his back made me feel better, he spoiled it though, because when he turned around and saw me he only looked amused.

"Since you're here I think I'll be passing now." He sat down on the counter and handed me a sheet of paper. I looked down to see that it was a recipe for meringue cookies. Mom loved these, and for that reason alone I didn't protest the fact that he basically told me I was on my own in this class.

He watched me the whole time. I was aware of him watching my every movement while I made the cookies. Why he watched me and not play around on his phone or something was a complete mystery. Or at least look like he was doing something. It wasn't until the I was taking them out the oven that he spoke to me again.

"You know what you're doing." It wasn't a question and may be the reason he watched all class. Still in my baking zone I answered him.

"Yeah, my Mom is a baker. Its why we moved actually." It was partly the reason why we moved, but he didn't have to know that. No one did.

As if he could read my mind he searched my face, waiting for me to say more. When I didn't he stared at me," why'd you move here?"

I ignored him, the cookies looked good but I hoped that they wouldn't be stale when I gave them to Mom. So far the only good thing to come out of this day was meeting Miranda and making Mom's favorite cookies. Since I was on my own I had to wash the pan, not able to ignore his tall form still sitting on the counter. Or him staring again. I didn't like being around him. And from where I stood I could feel heat snaking over to me, burning me.

  Just when I was going to cave in and take a step away the bell rang. He hoped off the counter and paused.

"Shane." He left, leaving me suddenly cold. But not before taking some of the cookies.