Baggage & Boarding

4- the man in 6B

Adam didn't just teach the Mohawk language class; he was also in charge of the two Traditions classes — lovingly dubbed  'Trads' by the kids. One of the Traditions class dealt with general Mohawk culture (M-Trads), the other focused on the more, well, supernatural elements of their werewolf heritage (W-Trads). Unsurprisingly W-Trads was the class that students were least likely to try and skip.

 Not only did he teach these classes, but he helped put together the curriculum with his late father. It was one of his greatest fucking accomplishments.

So he was quite aware of all the damn signs that he should've picked up on (but didn't) that his mate was so effing near. Recalling the curriculum, he ran through the WEST acronym that he taught his kids.

Wolf. Adam's wolf should've been crazy restless. He definitely felt it but wrote that off at being terrified of flying. 

Emotions. From very early on, werewolves could sense their mate's emotions. In younger wolves, it caused them to be moody. As they grew older, wolves were pretty good as isolating their mate's feelings from their own. 

When they finally found their mate, those feelings intensified profusely. Adam had definitely felt much calmer when he sat down next to her but he wrote that off too. He figured he was just really relieved to get to his seat. 

Smell. Adam should've been able to identify his mate's smell as soon as he got within a mile or so. He had no idea how he had sat right next to her and not realized. The only explanation was his panic attack about taking off. 

Touch. Cheesy as it sounded, he was certain that if he reached out and brushed his fingers across her cheek, he would feel an electric pulse down his arm. He briefly thought about doing just that but reconsidered when he realized how downright creepy that would be.

Let's try not to come off as any more of a whackjob, Adam chided himself. 

Eyes contact wasn't even a part of the acronym. Just smelling his mate or sensing her strong emotions should've been enough for any werewolf. 

 So what did that make Adam? On a scale of one to dickhead, he was rating pretty high up there. Just another reason why he wasn't fit to be the Beta. Seriously, he had been sitting next to his wolf's mate, this stunning woman, for a whole 10 minutes now and he hadn't realized who she was. 

Groaning, Adam put his head in his hands. Forget Cody and Tek, his level 8 students would be roasting the hell outta him. 

"Mr . Giasson didn't recognize his mate when she was right under his nose!" he imagined them saying, probably tugging his long braided hair as they often did. 

The girl he had been talking to was possibly the most stunning goddamn person on this goddamn Earth. While he had first taken her to be a redhead, he could now see her hair was too dark to be called that. Though most of her body was hidden underneath a plaid blue fuzzy blanket, her face alone was enough to blow him away. 

He documented everything about her into what was now the gospel, as far as he was concerned. He ran the list over and over in his head, his eyes cataloging everything as he did: freckles all over her face; hair so curly, it was almost an afro; huge brown eyes and long eyelashes; tiny ears and gently curved eyebrows; large full pink lips. Everything about her – even the small blemishes near her hairline – was perfect.

Adam had just found his effing soul-mate in this beauty.

And he had just been about to insult her.

"Um, yeah, I didn't mean– I mean, well, y-you see..."  His apology trailed off and he just went back to staring at her. He was pretty sure that his effing mouth was hanging open at this point.

Shit. Was it always this strong? Would it always feel as if he couldn't fucking breathe? Would his heart always pound so goddamn loud just looking at her? Fate must have had a fucking perverted sense of humor to have him meet his destined mate on an airplane. He'd have to update his acronym with the letter O for Overwhelming. 

"Okay so," his mate said drawing out the words, "I'm just going to take a bit of a nap if you don't mind." She put the sketchbook into the little pouch next to her chair and adjusted her headrest.

He was still fucking staring. 

Shit. Adam's level 4 students had more game than him at this point.

"Excuse me," she said as she pulled up the grey divider between the chairs and curled up in her seat. Good. That left him free to panic in private.

Mates were not an uncommon thing in the supernatural world. Probably some evolutionary shit to make sure that the different species didn't go extinct. It wasn't just werewolves; fairies and centaurs had mates too. Witches didn't though, but that's because being a witch wasn't totally hereditary; like you could have two absolutely normal human parents and bam! You come out doing magic.

Witches, damn, if only he had thought to buy some sort of anti-phobia potion from one in the that one in Queens before he set out for this trip. Or maybe tried to convince Sam to make him one, even though she'd probably growl something about how "potions weren't her medium". Maybe if he had convinced her, then he wouldn't seem like such a Goddamn fool to his mate.

Well, his mate was asleep which meant he probably had a few hours to pull himself together.

What would Des do? As his alpha and older cousin, Odeserundiye was always someone he looked up to. It was only as a favor to him that he even took up the Goddamn beta position, but only temporarily. He promised to free him of the responsibility as soon as Cody was trained enough for it. They had lost too many good older wolves recently and the age gap in the pack made it difficult to find someone suitable for the beta position. Though he fit the bill as a competent 29-year old wolf, he was one of the youngest betas ever, especially given the long lives that werewolves usually lived. The war had changed many things. But Des adapted the pack and made it survive. He was a good leader in that way.

Adapt, that's what he would do. Des would adapt. And that's what Adam would do. He was going to have to adapt the hell out of this shitty situation. He needed to make sure that his mate liked him and didn't think he was an effing idiot. He started to stitch together an explanation for his staring and a plan to get her name and number. 

Good thing that they had a whole twelve-hour flight ahead of them. Adam never thought he'd be happy about that, but funny how fate can fucking mess with a person.

*~*~*

Oh, if only Adam knew just how much fate is going to mess with him still *Muhahaha* :D 

That being said The Akwesasne Freedom School  is an incredible, real place that does some brilliant work in preserving Mohawk (or more correctly, Kanienʼkehá꞉ka) culture. If you're into learning new things, I really recommend learning about this amazing culture and the heroes that are working to keep it alive.

Again, this chapter was originally in the first person, so if anything sounds weird, please let me know.

Vote and comment and I'll love you forever!