Becoming A True Alpha (Teen Wolf)

Chapter 3: When Friends Become Foes

Chapter 3

Ms. Blake's classroom is almost full by the time I make my way through the threshold. There are very few new faces among the ones I've grown to know so well. With no teacher insight and very few options for seating, I calmly clamber over to the seat closest to the wall of windows. It's not until my back rests against the plastic seat that I reconize who sits in front of me. I had been concealed by a herd of students when I entered, but my presence would be made known any second now. The red head in front of me is preoccupied by her own reflection, while the boy next her with his wild mess of brown hair, makes hand gestures to someone across the room.

The girl with her long locks of fiery red hair and piercing stare could be none other than Lydia Martin, sporting only the finest of her designer dresses. She applies a thick coat of red lipstick and pursing her lips, she goes to clasp the compact mirror shut. But not before checking the image staring back at her. Her gaze locks with my blank stare and the mirror slips from her dainty fingers, clattering onto the wooden desk.

The noise is faint, but it's enough to draw Stiles attention towards Lydia. He can see her eyes grow wide with a mix of fear and confusion. "Lydia what is-" She tilts her head in my direction and that's when he turns to face me.

Stiles Stilinski with his goofy t-shirts and overly positive demeanour still looked the same as he did when I left with Deucalion. His brown eyes- which usually held a undefined spark, were dark and filled with a look of sorrow. He opens his mouth to say something, but no words come. Stiles shares a quick look with Lydia before turning his attention back to the front of the classroom. Scott doesn't dare look at me, but I can see him shifting uncomfortably back and forth in his chair. I wouldn't put it past him to think I might attack his beloved school crush- Allison at any moment. Leave it to McCall to want to be the hero of any situation.

The class goes as expect with the exception of Ms. Blake's odd entrance. The sound of thirty phones ringing at once, only to be drowned out by the sound of a women reciting the last line from Heart of Darkness. I didn't need to look down at the mass text to know the words. My father loved that book. When I was younger and my life didn't resemble an episode from the Twilight Zone, I use to overhear him muttering the lines of the book from his study.

What happened with Scott was even stranger. He was called out of class due to an emergency. This made staying seated much more difficult. Emergency meant a werewolf related problem and a werewolf problem usually meant my father was involved. Ms. Blake didn't seem anymore pleased by his departure. Although it was hard to tell. The woman never stopped smiling, constantly showing off her perfect white teeth. Her choice of outfit seemed unusual as well. Mini skirt, high heels and a button up shirt. Not exactly what I pictured an English teacher's preferred wardrobe to be. Her pale skin and mussy brown hair was enough to make even the chemistry teacher- Mr. Harris swoon.

I have a hard time concentrating on the rest of the class. Between Stiles taping his pen on the table so I can't hear Lydia and his conversation and Scott's absence, my mind was on high alert. So I practically jump at the sound of something hitting the window near Lydia. I'm not the only one caught off guard. Lydia and Stiles gasp at the sight of a dead crow sliding down the glass, leaving behind a trail of smeared blood.

A mistake, a simply miss calculation by the bird. But this was Beacon Hills, I should have known better than to jump to conclusions. The warm rays of sun filtering through the panes of glass fade, replaced by a dark cloud. Taking a second glance at the carnage outside, I realize the cloud isn't a cloud at all. It's a flawk of crows and they seem to be flying directly at us.

My heart beat picks up at the sight of the impending black feathered fog. By now, most of the class had drawn their attention away from the lesson to watch the birds bizarre behaviour. Even Ms. Blake herself wanders over to the window to take a closer look. Suddenly, just like before, the birds begin to throw themselves at the glass. The pressure is too much and I can hear the glass cracking before anyone else. Stiles, oblivious to the dangerous about to be forced upon us, slowly rises to his feet. Without thinking I hiss out his name, grabbing the boy's attention.