My Mate is a Greek God

3: Plot thickens

A/N:

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I blow thick loads of snot out the passages of my nasal canal, then swipe the back of my hand underneath my nose.

More and more tears fling from my swollen orbs. Just why me? Why does shit always happen to me?

A loud knock pounds on the bathroom stall.

"Lydia, come out. Please, you're my mate, dammit!"

It's him. My Mate. God, it still sounds crazy to say it in my head.

I scoot a bit off the edge of the flipped down toilet seat and peek through the crack of the stall. Brett paces around, clearly distressed, as he runs a large hand through his luscious tussled locks. I sniff back more snot, more clear liquid pools the rims of my orbs. "No way. You are gonna break my heart, just like all the other girls I'm sure."

"That isn't true, babe. I'm not like that..." He throws himself against the door. "I swear to you!"

"No..." My nostrils flare, the porcelain bowl rattles, and I'm planted atop the toilet lid, peering down at him over the top of the door. "I will reject you, Mate, even if it's the last thing I do."

For a moment, it's as if his tail had sprouted and tucked itself under, but he recovers with a stomp of his foot onto a squeaky tile. "Fine, kill me if that makes you happy, because that's what rejection does." His voice oozes venom. His orbs flash an indistinguishable color— locking with my hazy ones. "It'll kill you too, Lydia," he smirks, darkly. "So I guess meet you in the afterlife, sweetie."

My face pales as his muscular figure walks away in a slow, sinister, diabolically villainous manner.

I slide back down onto the toilet, sighing the whole way, my knees having gone weak. I plant my head against the stall divider, its cool steel nips at my tormented cheek. A warm smile threatens to form across my rosy lips. "My problematic little mate..."

Sketches in worn marker ink on the inside of the bathroom stall catch my attention. I ignore a flawless doodle of male genitalia— though briefly admire it— and instead focus on two letters with a plus sign in between them encased in a poorly drawn red heart. Absentmindedly, I trace it with my finger.

My face fills back with color. Everything hits me. "I think... I'm in love."

I clip off my overalls, pull down my pants, and push back the toilet seat, smiling to myself as a relieving steady stream meets the porcelain bowl.
                                                                                 ~~~~

"Wait, so you're telling me... you're a... werewolf?" Brenda scratches her head, smacking her 1975 bubblegum.

"Yep," I reply, popping the "P" as one does.

"That's insane! Wait... why should I believe you?"

"I don't know." I shrug, crossing my arms. "To be honest I don't really care whether you do or don't. I just needed to tell someone, ya know?"

She blows a bubble and it pops— just like P's do. "Okay... I guess if this is confession time, I have something to tell you too."

I blink five times. "What?! You're supposed to tell me everything!"

She slyly raises a corner of her mouth. "well..."

Her orbs are first to change, then her hair, then her clothes, then...

Oh. em. gee.

"You're... a shapeshifter."

It's like looking into a mirror, she looks exactly like me. Everything down to my sparkling orbs, my thick lashes, my delicately sculpted face.

She gleams. "Yep, I can even transform into a malt ball! Want to see?"

"No."

Brett's hot friend Chad Jefferson passes by, then backtracks, with a puzzled look on his face. He pointing a finger between us, "Twins?"

"Yep," me and Brenda reply in unison.

He smirks, delighted, bopping his head like a cool surfer dude. "Sick."He pulls a skateboard out of his backpack and skates out of our sight.

Then suddenly, the bell rings.

Panicked screams fill the air, students run in circles.

Old professor Albert sprints into the cafeteria, seemingly abandoning his walker at the entrance as he leaps onto a lunch table. "Vampire! We have a vampire in this school!"

I lift my nose in the air and take a big whiff, my orbs flash magenta. "Vampires."

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