Surviving Specter High: Werewolves 101

12 ~ Revenge of the Killer Garlic

Specter High's
✩
Mystic Moon Ball
September 29

A ball? Was this their version of prom? That sounded like so much fun! And it was only a month away. I couldn't wait to tell the others, so I skipped through the hallway leading to the cafeteria.

"Oh, Miss Brown!" a chirpy voice forced me to screech to a halt.

Ms. Milky emerged from her office and pushed up her violet cat-eye glasses. Her hooves were a lovely shade of pink today.

"There's something I need to discuss with you," she cheeped.

Discuss? Hopefully, she wasn't mad at me or anything, so I nervously shuffled into her flowery office. She clopped to her pink rococo chair and took a seat.

"Sorry for bringing you here on such short notice, but I wanted to talk to you about your options of extracurricular activities—if you're interested. The teachers are very surprised to see you excelling so quickly."

"Oh, really? Thanks. So, what kind of activities?"

"Well, since you didn't have the chance to sign up for an elective class before enrollment, I wanted to present you the opportunity now. Taking one would deeply enrich your education."

I grinned. "That sounds fun. What are the classes?"

"Well, due to the confusion last week, you'll have to catch up on the studies that you missed, but that shouldn't be too big of an issue. So, if you want to take an elective, you should decide now so you don't get too much further behind." She then typed on her computer and cleared her throat. "Anyway, here's what we offer: Vampiric Literature, Satyr Anthropology, Fairy Dust Management, and Lycanthropic Lore."

I had no idea what "anthropology" meant. And frankly, I was a little scared of what kind of "vampiric literature" was being taught. Where I was from, that word didn't have a good connotation. Nevertheless, I thought it was a great opportunity to get to know more about werewolves. For one thing, I'd probably pass with flying colors because I've read tons of werewolf fanfiction. So, I was already prepared.

Plus, it would help me understand Rusty a little better, so I decided, "Lycanthropic Lore sounds interesting."

"Somehow, I had a feeling you'd pick that class," she giggled.

Her words confused me, but she typed on the keyboard with her long, polished nails. "Alrighty, then! You'll have your first class today at 3:45 PM."

"Great."

"Oh, and here's your human breakfast." She handed a greasy paper bag with the Squishy Burger logo—which was a picture of a green slime humanoid holding a thick cheeseburger.

Once that was settled, I excused myself and hurried to the cafeteria for a healthy breakfast of cold Squishy Burger chicken nuggets. After a week of eating nothing but fast food for breakfast, lunch, and dinner—I was already starting to feel a little dead inside. But that morning, my stomach retaliated by tying into a knot.

"Millie, what's wrong? You look sick," Rusty worried as he sat down in front of me with his canned dogfood burrito. The reek only worsened my suffering.

He then took a whiff of the soggy paper bag. "Ugh! What are you eating?"

"Squishy Burger Snazzy Meal," I groaned while clutching my stomach.

"Snazzy? And you say my food's bad."

"I don't like Squishy Burger! But it's all they have to give me."

"Yeah, right. While they're eatin' high on the hog."

We both glanced over and saw the teachers eating Belgian waffles, poached eggs, crispy bacon, and dainty cups of cubed cantaloupe. They even sipped from delicate bone china teacups.