Chapter 2- Current Day
The cafeteria always smelled foul. To a human, it wouldn't be as bad. To me, it was a mix of overly secreted testosterone, month old cheeses, sweat (which was an obscene amount), and a mix of perfumes ranging from Vera Wang to dollar store brands. Strangely enough, I preferred the dollar store bottles.
I always sat in the back of the cafeteria. The lunch room was the shape of a trapezoid that fit over thirty tables. My table was rectangular and made of fake wood, but to the untrained eye, it could probably pass as cedar. What can I say? My high school loves to scream Rich and Proper, even though it can barely afford the Mac and Cheese it serves for lunch. At least it was kraft.
This was my table. I didn't carve my name in it or anything, it was just common knowledge. Just like it was common knowledge that my social standing was equivalent to that of a pariah. Not only was I not liked, but I held an invisible bubble around me no one dared to pass.
I was not complaining. Overly hormonal, attention seeking, extremely obnoxious teenagers were not really my thing. Whenever anyone seemed to get a little too close for my liking, all I had to do was cough. They would run away so fast I swear I was watching a rerun of "The Flash."
My school was smack dab in the center of a small town by the name "Leviathan." Leviathan was in the Midwest state of Wisconsin, only a few miles from Lake Michigan. This was why our pack name was The Midwest Pack. Original, I know. Every pack was named after the location of where they reside. There was a Northeast Pack, South Pack, etc. In America, there were only a total of 4 packs. Even though traditionally, packs have boring names, each pack has scored a few nicknames through the years, both good and bad.
Leviathan Highschool predominantly taught wolves, but there were still a few humans in our ranks. They were oblivious to all the supernatural around them. Especially, the fact that they lived in the town that was the capital for all the werewolves in the area. It didn't matter the species, though, all of them had a weird thing against me.
What was the reason for my extreme unpopularity? Werewolves have this weird thing against the weak ones of the pack. The saying "The pack is only as strong as its weakest link," was taken to heart in the world of the Wolf. I'm not saying I am physically abused by the whole pack or degraded to being the punching bag. Actually, the majority of the pack was pretty good to me. The current Alpha comes over every Thanksgiving, and even taught me how to tie my shoes. For some reason, it was my generation of dimwits that took it to heart.
I know, being bullied because your sickness was cringy to say the least. Yet, after much time pondering why I was so disliked, this was the only reason that made sense. I was never one to make a scene. I was not one to harass others. Hell, I barely said more than a few words to my teachers let alone my peers. Of course I juggled the idea that it was my physical looks. If you are on either side of the "prettiest scale" you have a target painted on you. Still, I wouldn't classify myself as gorgeous or hideous. I was "cute." That was all.
Like in every overrated highschool based movie (except for "Ten Things I Hate About You" Chefs kiss of a movie) the thoughts of the "populars" are carried out by the "normals." The whole reason that everyone at Leviathan High treated me like the plague was because they follow everything the popular do. And as luck had it, the popular jock douches just happen to be the next in line to lead the pack. The two in particular, Jacin Raxford and Roan Reguiz, had something against me that surpasses just my uncanny ability to always be sick.
Strangely enough, those two never said anything to me. They never even looked my way. I was just a little gnat that barely registered on their visual field. Yet, I knew they must despise me as every single one of their so-called friends could not help but verbally assault me whenever I was around. With the trickle down effect, that verbal assault or blatant avoidance quickly escalated to the whole school. I actually preferred verbal assault. At least then I knew I was seen. Part of me even believed that I must matter to them for some reason, because that much hatred toward one person was a lot to bear.
I read during lunch, partially because I loved reading and partially because it distracted from my pain. I was not as sick as I used to be, but chronic aches and pain were not pleasant. I leaned my back against the wall, which was made of white brick. If I looked closely, there were little scabs of dirt fastened in. That was why I did not look closely. My feet rested on the bench, and my knees were brought up to my chest. My book was placed in the crevice between my knees.
It was loud. I got distracted every few sentences. I could hear the cheerleaders talk about the party tonight, and what boy they plan to take back to their bed. Well, let me tell you, his name is STDs. They sat at the table Roan, the future alpha, and Jacin, the future beta, also resided at. Way to conform to traditional highschool stereotypes!
I never attempted to look at them. One look, and one of the Jocks would claim that I was a stalker. The head cheerleader, Arland, was probably rubbing Roan's bicep or attempting to sit on Jacin's lap... again. I've heard rumors that she's hooked up with both of them. In the same night? I had no idea. I also have heard rumors that I spend my summers in a hospital created by the Kardashians. So, I am not quick to believe everything I hear. I wouldn't be surprised if she hooked up with Roan. He, in simple terms, was a hoe. It was the rumor about her and Jacin that I couldn't 100% believe. Every time I caught her trying to rub up against him, she would be turned down. I did not blame him, I would not want herpes either.
My consciousness slowly entwined back into my book, forgetting the voices around me. I guess that was a mistake. That's always when they pounce. Even though I was sick and could not turn into my wolf, I still had my reflexes. I embarrassingly call them my spidey senses. And let me tell you, they always had my back.
Especially when it came to people throwing apples at my face.
They sensed the apple before I could. My left hand reached into the air to grab the ruby red apple when it was only a few inches from my nose. My spidey senses were good, but never that good. My first thought was "Why would someone waste a perfectly good apple?" then it morphed to "WTF how did I catch that?" My heart was thumping in my chest. It was due to both: almost having an apple induced black eye, and the fact that I did indeed catch the apple. My brown eyes quickly scanned the apple, and then searched the cafeteria for the perpetrators.
It was quiet, probably because everyone was confused by how I caught the apple. Hell, I was too. My eyes directed their attention to the jock table, first. Roan had his eyebrows scrunched together. He kept looking between me and Jacin. This, of course, led me to drag my eyes to Jacin. Right when my eyes landed on him, the first thing I noticed were his deep blue eyes. He had an equal amount of mischief and surprise dance in them. His full lips were slightly parted in confusion. He was annoying and gorgeous. Baby blue eyes, dirty blonde hair, naturally tan skin all wrapped in one package of sexy. The asshole version of an Adonis. I never had the chance to eye assault him, as he was always positioned away from me. These rare moments always took me aback.
Arland was standing to his left, with her hand absentmindedly on his shoulder. Her face held a small smirk. She was pretty, almost like a porcelain doll. Her looks made her seem innocent, which made me dislike her more. Her eyes were a startling dark blue, like the color of the sky right before the sun sets. Her hair was a few shades lighter than my own. It had to be artificial. There is no way someone could be born with platinum blonde locks. I'm not saying it was impossible, but when it came to her, I wanted it to be. Everyone at his table was looking between him and me, which made it obvious that he was the one that threw it.
Did he really throw an apple at me?No way! He can't even look at me, so how could he hurl a red assault weapon at my head? Yet, there was no denying it. With everyone staring at him, it was almost like he was holding a smoking gun.
I stared right into his eyes, mustard up some bravery, and brought the apple to my mouth to take a bite. I liked apples, so this was like winning the free food lottery. I was pretty sure he didn't expect that. His mouth dropped slightly, but he quickly regained his composure. What did he think I would do? Run out of the cafeteria crying, search for animal blood, and then plan to throw it on them at prom? Yes. Honestly, this was the bravest thing I have done since... Well ever.
"Okay, well that was hot," said a voice in front of me. I turned my attention from Jacin's eyes to the blue eyes in front of me. They belonged to a girl who I did not know or recognize.
She had long brown hair that went to her butt, which was probably annoying to take care of. If I looked closely, I could see small strands of honey spread throughout. Her hair was straight, but had a slight curl toward the end. She had light blue eyes, with specks of aquamarine. When she smiled, it made them glisten a bit more in the sun. She had high cheekbones, which would make any Hadid jealous. She wore dark blue jeans that had tiny rips throughout, black ankle boots made of leather, a baggy maroon knit sweater, and a lot of rings. She was gorgeous, and by the way she smelled... human.
She took a few steps toward me and stuck out her hand, "Hi, my name is Taylor!" she drew out with all the confidence in the world.
I shook her hand confused, "I'm...Mae?" I requitted slowly as more of a question. I stared at her for a second, allowing my confusion to subside a little, so I could interact with her like a normal person, "As you are new, and probably do not know the hierarchy of Leviathan High, I should tell you I am seated at the very bottom. Any association with me does tend to hinder one's position in our little niche of society."
She sat right next to me, "It's either hang out with you or lose brain cells hanging out with them," she motioned her thumb toward the populars. Roan's mouth was almost on the floor. I couldn't tell if he was pissed or confused that the hottest girl in the school sat by me, and not his posey. Maybe, it was a mix of both. His eyes were glued on Taylor. When he realized both Taylor and I were looking at him, he quickly stood up from his table, and left his perfectly good bowl of Mac and Cheese behind. What a waste. The cafeteria doors slammed in his wake.
"Yeah, that was weird," I quizzically added in response to his strange exit. Taylor just nodded in agreement.
"I just feel bad about that Mac and Cheese," She bellowed out, expressing my exact thoughts. I really liked this girl.
"Can I adopt you and keep you in my basement?" I asked with a smile, and took another bite of my apple. One thing you should know about me is that I tend to lack a verbal filter. I also tetter on the edge of being awkward.
"Keep me in your closet, and you got a deal," she laughed. Her laugh was contagious. I can't even remember the last time I laughed with someone my age. I usually either laugh at the television like a crazy lady, or with my parents which was equally as sad.
"Well, welcome to Leviathan High, capital of assholes and aggression," I motioned to the whole cafeteria. Everyone else had already gone back to what they were doing. They already moved on from the whole "Apple-Geddon" and Roan's hissy fit.
As I took another bite of my apple, my sleeve moved up my arm. This revealed a black tattoo that wrapped around my right wrist. It was nothing special, just one singular line. I got it when I was a young child from a witch. The tattoo was actually a spell that helped repress sickness. Had it worked? I was not sure, but it gave my parents a sense of reprieve.
"Nice tat," Taylor motioned to my wrist, "What does it mean?"
I couldn't tell her that it was created by a witch. She would probably think I was crazy, which I was, "I went through a rebellious phase and got it," I shrugged, and she just nodded. The bell rang, signaling the end of lunch. Taylor and I stood up in sinc.
"What's your next class?" she asked, as she handed over her class schedule. I did feel bad that she started Leviathan High three months into the school year. I looked down and noticed that she had fourth through sixth hour with me: History, Art, and sadly English. My favorite class was Greek Mythology, which was only taught to wolves. Some humans had a hissy fit that they couldn't get in. They were just told that there were a limited number of seats and it was a "competitive class." In reality, they just wouldn't understand when the teacher talked about how his ancestors helped Hercules fight the Hydra.
"We have fourth through sixth hour together," I said, which made her smile. It wasn't a smile of surprise. It was like she expected me to say that, which kind of freaked me out. I tried to not think too into it, because it was most likely nothing. I had always been a little too paranoid.
She entwined her arm with mine,"Lead the way, friend."
I nodded, and we left the cafeteria. Who would have guessed that the apple would have been the starting flag that initiated the change of my whole life.