Waindale

sixteen. waindale academy

I shake my head. "I can't tell you. Just—please don't make me see him."

"We would be breaking orders," Imogen says to Vivianne.

"I'll take the blame," I offer. "All of it. Blame it all on me, just don't bring me there."

"It was that bad?" Vivianne questions and I nod. "Alright, fine. You have to take the fall, though, or we get our heads chopped off."

"Yes, yes, I'll take the fall. Hell, just tell him I made you do it."

Imogen asks, "So what do we do now? We were supposed to go right to the dean's office."

"We can show you around the school," Vivianne suggests, "we just have to avoid Adam or Dean Murphy at all times."

"Don't I have class?"

"Not today," she explains. "Your schedule is in the dean's office, so we can't get it to show you. But we have nearly the same schedules. It's been set up so either Eli, Imogen, or I am in your classes at all times. You start tomorrow. Today we were just supposed to show you the ropes."

"Okay, so we can easily avoid him."

"He can smell her," Imogen says to Vivianne. "He'll find us easily."

"We'll just have to keep moving, I guess. Don't get me wrong, we can try to avoid him, but there's a very high chance that he'll find you."

I sigh. "I don't think he'll want to see me either."

"Really? It was that bad? Please tell me. Please?"

Imogen grabs onto her and leads us into the building. I stay behind the two of them, watching as they wave and say 'hello' to people they know. Most of these people are surprised to see them back. I'm guessing that they don't know about me. No one does more than glance my way.

Adam's scent is here. It's scattered around, not very concentrated in any direction. Maybe he's avoiding me as well. Whenever I think back to last night, all I see is his beastly face flashing at me, growling at me, angry with me. The terrible end makes it hard to day-dream about his lips pressing against mine. It was so very short but felt like something of another world.

First, the girls take me to the courtyard. The school building is a large square that's hollow in the middle. Doorways lead out to a green space with picnic tables and benches and trees to provide shade. Many students are gathered around, chatting and laughing and walking to class. In the center of the courtyard is a beautiful fountain. People sit around it, used to its beauty.

Next is the lunchroom. Long, dark wood cafeteria tables line the room. At the back is a delightful selection of food, much better than the meals offered at the high school. I stare at people's plates as they walk by. Instead of plastic cafeteria trays, students carry around glass plates and cups with silverware.

"Nice, huh?" Vivianne asks. "Trust me. You won't be missing Waindale High anytime soon. Sure, being secretary was fun, but here at least I can use a fork and not have it snap in my hand."

"I'll catch you guys later. All this food is making me hungry, and I've been missing these pancakes," Imogen says before following the scent of maple syrup.

Vivianne and I make our way to the gymnasium, but while in the middle of the hall, I come to a sudden stop. His scent, it's getting stronger. "He's close," I say. "He's getting closer."

Vivianne links arms with me and turns us around. We hurry back down the hallway and through a pair of doors that lead outside. We walk down steps and follow a path toward the tennis courts.