| TWO: Transition ✓

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CHAPTER TWO;

       TRANSITION 


       "I don't even understand lacrosse." Clara bitterly thought to herself as Allison dragged her towards the outside bleachers. Lydia was leaning against the metal railings with her arms crossed over her puffy jacket and her red hair flowing past her shoulders due to the oncoming wind. Since her beloved was not eating each other's tongues or attached at the hip, she assumed Jackson was already out on the field. The lacrosse field was relatively large for such a small school with over twenty players.

       Once the duo climbed up the pads of the bleachers, Lydia turned towards them. "Finally, took you two long enough."

       Clara ignored the urge to hissed something unsavory to the smaller women, but decided that since her first day had been pretty good so far, it would be better not to end in one such a sour note. Lydia grappled on both of the women's wrists and drew them to the other side of the stands on the fourth row. Once all three ladies had found vacant areas and placed their bags around their legs, Allison's curious eyes immediately started scanning the foreign land around her. Her visual search didn't last long when her brown eyes landed on her admirer from English.

       The unnamed man seemed to also be completely enamored with her as well since he was ignoring his own surroundings and couldn't tear his gaze away. Allison gave an encouraging smile, before finally crawling back into reality. She leaned over to Clara, "Did you catch his name?"

       "Nope, afraid not. I talked to his friend though." A playful grin blossomed on her face, "But I'm sure he wants to get to know you too. Tell me, Argent, are you already starting to fall in love with him?"

       Allison's face turned beat red. "I don't even know him, I just think he's ―"

       "Good looking, an attractive outcast, the resemblance of a puppy ―"

       "No!" The girl vehemently denied. "I just think he's nice."

       Clara good-heartedly scoffed, hoping that her new friend knew the more she denied, the more teasing and accusations she would get in the future. Still yearning for one more jab, she leaned over and quipped, "Seriously cute though."

       The two of them girlishly giggled, before returning their attention to the practice that was about to start. Just as she was criss-crossing her legs and getting more comfortable with sitting on a hard bench, something abrupt and repugnant swiftly filled her nostrils. She grimaced, the combination of male hormones, thickening sweat, and a wet canine adding for a peculiar stench. In the midst of her processing thoughts, she became frozen; hesitantly and subtly, she sniffed a bit more into the air. Definitely the smell of a werewolf with the constant transitioning from human smell to animal smell to human.

       Shocked wasn't really her choice of wording; werewolves could be bred or born anywhere in the United States and were even scattered across the globe really. There were also wandering packs that either stayed in one particular region or went cross-country every so often. It was more surprisingly that she didn't noticed before. She had gone all day in various classrooms with different pods of people and never caught a whiff. Now, the smell that was once striking was vanishing and becoming quite faint.

       The Coach, a spiked brunette that held more insanity than sanity in his eyes, blew his whistle around the field. On cue, other lacrosse players started spreading about on the grass. From the opposite end though, where Allison's diligent admirer was positioned as goalie, collapsed onto his knees and clutching the sides of his helmet. She could hear moans of pain coming through his clenched teeth as he struggled with the storm raging in his head.

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