by JJ King
“What’s the point, Rory?” I moaned, knowing I was acting like a baby but not really caring. “I’m getting expelled, we both know it. The whole campus knows it!” I flopped back on the bed and closed my eyes, wishing I’d never gotten dressed.
“So, she wins, is that what you’re saying?” Rory delivered the blow dryly with only the slightest hint of snark.
I opened my eyes and sat up.
“That’s what everyone is thinking, especially since you’ve been hiding in your room since you knocked her back to Sunday.” Rory walked to the mini fridge across the room and pulled out an apple and a bag of cheese I’d taken for a snack from the cafeteria. She tossed me the apple and put the cheese on the bedside table next to me. “She’s the Queen bitch and you broke her nose. You could have been campus hero but, instead, you’ve been cowering in your room, waiting for Daniella to nark on you and get you expelled.”
“My parents…”
“Your parents won’t hear a word about this because no one is talking,” Rory said patiently as I bit into the apple. “The last thing her royal bitchiness wants is to have the administration calling home to mommy and daddy to explain how their precious got a boo-boo in a fight she’d instigated. Face it, you’re covered. Now be a big girl and eat your breakfast on the way to class.” She cocked an eyebrow in what was clearly a challenge and waited for my response.
I had to admit, she was good. I’d been doing all the things she’d just accused me of and more, and it was high time I stopped hiding. I wasn’t the one who’d started the fight, I was just the one who’d finished it.
A smile crept over my face as I remembered the satisfying crunch of cartilage. The break wouldn’t last, I knew, we wolves healed too quickly, but we were also young, which meant she might still be dealing with some bruising. I got up and went to my mirror to run a brush through my hair. If I was coming out of hiding, I’d damn well have good hygiene.
“You’re good, you know that?” I asked with a grin as I locked up behind me.
“I know,” Rory said with a chuckle. “It comes from being the oldest of seven. I’ve given more than my fair share of pep talks over the years.”
I blocked out the whispers and stares as we moved through the halls, even though they were wearing really thin. Rory’s words echoed through my mind, I hadn’t started the fight, I’d taken down the Queen bitch. So, instead of hunching forward as I’d done all yesterday, I pulled my shoulders back and walked tall, flinching for no one.
Then I saw him and all my bravado disappeared in an instant. My stomach flopped, making the small breakfast I’d scarfed down threaten to come back up. Bash was at the far end of the hall talking to Darius, laughing over some joke they were sharing, with his back turned so he didn’t see me. I wanted to turn around and run, to duck into an open door and hide because I was sure he hated me now. Attraction or no attraction, I’d decked his twin sister. Even if he wasn’t furious with me, any relationship we could have had was over now. He’d have to walk away out of loyalty to her.
I forced my legs to keep moving and tried to hide behind two big guys who were chatting about football and ambling slowly down the hall.
Rory, ever perceptive, glanced around until she saw what had caught my attention and reached out to tug me even further behind the jocks. As we approached, Darius’ gaze caught mine then shifted to Rory and back again. He looked as if he were about to point us out then stopped as my eyes went wide, pleading for him to ignore us and let us pass. His nod was almost imperceptible but it was there. As we stepped around the jocks and rushed on without being seen, I decided he was worthy of my girl.
Out of earshot, I murmured to Rory, “You should ask him out.”
Her face flushed immediately and she shook her head. “I can’t do that. I literally ran away from him the other night.”
“You ran away with me, not from him. I’m sure he understands.” Guilt churned in my gut again. I was going to have to buy some antacids soon. First, I’d felt guilty for accepting Bash’s invitation, then I’d felt guilty for asking Bash to bring someone for Rory, now I was feeling guilty for being the reason Rory hadn’t been able to finish her date with Darius. I was a mess.
“You think?” Rory’s previously confident tone was uncertain now.
“I know,” I insisted. “He’s totally into you. Just give him a chance.”
She didn’t say anything I knew she was thinking about it, just nervous to put herself out there. We slipped into Xavier’s class, and sat together near the front and made plans to hit the cafeteria after class.
Xavier cleared his throat and hoisted himself up onto the table at the front of the classroom. “Your assignment last week was to follow a train of thought through for ten minutes, which, as you probably realize now, is a lot of words. The trick to train of thought writing is to let your mind wander and to follow it. It’s exciting but also disconcerting where the brain will go if you allow it free rein. Psychology 101 will tell you that your subconscious mind will go places you would never go consciously, that you can think death threats without ever giving them and that’s normal. As we grow, we learn to filter what we think so that what comes out of our mouths isn’t abhorrent. Which is why you hear children say the most unbelievable things. They don’t have functioning filters yet.” He patted the spot on the table next to him. “So, let’s have them. Train of thought papers go here. Pass them to the front. I look forward to seeing where your twisted minds took you.”
The class laughed as everyone pulled their papers out and began passing them to the front of each row. I gathered the papers from my row and brought them up, wondering at the abrupt change in Xavier’s attitude. He seemed happy today, chipper even.
“Today we’re going to be writing flash fiction. I’ll put two images up on the board and you’ll have the rest of class to write four hundred to five hundred word stories for each of the images. This will strain your creativity, believe me. It might sound easy enough, what’s five hundred words, anyway. But, writing a complete story in that word limit is difficult. Next class you’ll be partnering with other students to critique your work.” He turned on the Smartboard and put two images up, side-by-side, then got the train of thought papers and opened the first one up.
The images were weird. One depicted a woman dressed in what looked like a ball gown, slumped over a staircase with a toy crank sticking out of her back. She looked like a broken doll, I mused, with that blank look in her eyes. A story exploded in my mind at that simple thought and I began to write.
I was just reading over my two stories when Xavier clapped his hands together. “Alright. Our time is up. You can take those home tonight and polish them up a bit but make sure to bring them back on Thursday.”
I stuck my sheets in a binder and put it in my backpack. “What did you write about?” I asked Rory.
“Miss Jensen,” Xavier called out before Rory could answer. “Can I speak with you for a moment before you leave?”
Rory’s eyebrows shot up. “I’ll wait for you outside,” she murmured, gathering up her stuff to leave.
“Thanks.” I shouldered my bag and made my way through my classmates to where Xavier sat at the desk with the stack of papers. My hands grew clammy as I waited for him to tell me what this was about.
“Miss Jensen,” he repeated formally, making my stomach flop. This wasn’t going to be good, I felt it in my bones. “I’m aware Headmistress Donahue filled you in on your scholarship acceptance and the fact that I voted for you based on your essay.”
I nodded since my mouth was too dry to allow me to speak.
He sighed. “I was hoping your first paper was a product of nerves. It was flowery and exceedingly verbose and didn’t, in my opinion, reflect the writing in your application essay.” He eyed me now and my hearted thudded painfully. He was insinuating I’d plagiarized. Anxiety spiked. I clenched my teeth and waited for him to finish so I could get the hell out of here.
“I graded your train of tho
ught paper,” he continued with another sigh that made me die a little inside. “It’s…” he seemed to search for a word, “stunted.”
Stunted? I tried not to gape at him but it was almost impossible. I’d worked on that for days, letting myself follow my thoughts to their bitter end. I’d gone from light to dark and back again in that paper, revealing more about myself than I was comfortable with most people knowing. I’d laid it all bare and he was telling me it was stunted?
I snapped. It was the last straw after a boatload of straw. “Are you serious? Stunted? I poured my heart out and did exactly what you asked us to do.” I shook my head as tears filled my eyes. “Why did you even vote for me if you hate my writing? And, yeah, before you take your insinuation a step further and accuse me of plagiarism, that essay was mine. It’s all mine.” A growl of frustration slipped from my throat. “I thought you were going to be a mentor. You were the one thing about this fucking place that made me want to stay but I guess you’re too wrapped up in your divorce to care about any of that.”
I turned on my heel and stormed out of the room then immediately began to hyperventilate. Rory’s hand gripped my arm and steered me down the hallway and around the corner for an ounce of privacy as I freaked out.
“Nooo,” I moaned, remembering each biting word I’d spewed at my professor. “I brought up his divorce.” I buried my face in my hands.
“I heard.” Rory patted my back sympathetically. “It wasn’t your finest hour, not that I’ve been there for many of your hours.”
I lifted my head and stared down at her. We’d only just met, I realized, even though it felt as if I’d known her forever. Her knowledge of me consisted of drama, physical violence, self-absorption, and verbal attack. “I swear, this is not me.” I shook my head, trying to figure out when I’d become this person. A person I’d have steered clear of normally. “I never hit people or yell at teachers. I’m boring. I like reading.”
She laughed. “I believe you, don’t worry. People who are used to this type of stuff don’t have the expression you have right now. You’re all red and blotchy.” She reached for her backpack and pulled a water bottle out. “Here, drink,” she pushed it into my hands.
I drank, thankful that I’d found the one person on campus who understood me and was patient enough to stick with me through this craziness. I handed her back the bottle and sighed. “I just want my life back.”
“Well,” she shrugged with a grin, “we’re in university now. I doubt anything will ever be the same again.”
A flash of light caught my attention and had me glancing out the window behind Rory. I frowned and stepped closer to get a better look.
“Wonder what that’s all about,” Rory mused aloud as we watched a line of identical black SUVs drive through the front gates and pull up at the front of the administration building. One by one, the vehicles parked and guards, or what looked like guards, climbed out. Dressed in black with tactical gear, bullet-proof vests, and guns strapped to their sides, I thought they’d better be guards or AWA was in serious trouble.
A group of students paused as they passed to stare at the strange sight and began theorizing about what was happening. It seemed as if they knew no more than we did, so I paid little attention to the gossip until I heard one of the guys say, “Maybe this is about the body they found just off campus last night.”
I turned to look at Rory whose wide eyes told me this was news to her, too. Another body, I thought. Alpha Wolf Academy really was in serious trouble.
Chapter 8
“Why, Rory? Why did I punch her?” I moaned and threw my cell phone across Rory’s bed for the millionth time. I’d been checking it religiously all week but, besides texts from my besties and my parents, it had remained painfully silent.
Rory glanced over her shoulder from where she was typing away at her laptop and cocked an eyebrow at me. “Um, because she’s a trite bitch who slapped you across the face first.”
Her candor made my lips twitch and, not for the first time, I thanked the Old Ones I’d found her, or rather, she’d found me. Life at AWA was a hell of a lot better with a snarky best friend.
“True, but that doesn’t make me any less a psycho in Bash’s mind. And even if he doesn’t hate my guts, she’s his twin. He’s honor bound to take her side, isn’t he?” I nearly crossed my fingers in hope that Rory would disagree with me.
She didn’t. Rory nodded slowly. “I don’t have a twin, so I’m not sure what the rules are, but if someone punched out my sister or brother…” she blew out a breath. “I dunno. He clearly likes you a lot but…” she trailed off again. “Sorry, this isn’t helping.”
My chest tightened with the weight of loss. I regretted punching Daniella more than I’d ever regretted anything in my life, even if she’d deserved it. I’d been this close to something real with Bash and I’d screwed it up, royally.
There was nothing I could do now but wait. I’d texted him the night of the party and once after that, apologizing for hitting his sister, but he’d never responded. I had to accept his choice, as sucky as it was.
“Let’s do something,” I hopped up out of my chair and began pacing the room. “It feels like we’ve been locked up in here forever.”
“The guards make me really uncomfortable,” Rory murmured, still typing. I walked to her window and glanced out, expecting to see at least two or three of the new guards standing post on the grounds by the dorms. I counted four.
“Yeah,” I agreed, sighing at the bright sun that still warmed the mid-September air. It would have been nice to hang out on the green but the lawns had been mostly empty since the guards had arrived. No one felt comfortable with them there, despite the fact that they were supposedly there to keep us safe from whoever was killing wolves. It was a heavy topic that most of campus was talking about even though no one knew the particulars. “I’m bored.”
“You could work on your short stories” Rory got up and moved to her mini-fridge to get a bottle of water. “You’re not finished, right?”
“I’m done my first drafts but they needs a bit of cleaning up. Want to swap drafts when you finish?” I took the bottle she offered me and batted my eyelashes at her. “Will you be my beta reader, Rory?”
“Only if you’ll be mine.” She abandoned her laptop and hopped up on the bed with a chuckle. “Who needs a boyfriend when you’ve got romance like this?”
I sighed and flopped down next to her. “True love, thy name is Aurora.” She slapped me with a pillow.
“Why is my butt buzzing?” Rory asked a moment later, frowning. She shifted and pulled my cell phone out from under her and glanced at the screen. Her eyes went wide as she looked from it to me.
“What?” I shot up and reached for the phone. The screen had gone off so I had to swipe and put in my code, wasting valuable seconds, but when I saw who’d texted me, my heart fluttered.
Bash. The message was short but it was the most amazing combination of words that I’d ever read.
I can’t stop thinking about you. Meet me at the wolf gate at sunset.
“He wants to meet me tonight,” I said in a breathy voice filled with so much hope it stretched my chest.
Rory’s hand slapped me gently on the leg. “See! You’re not out of the game, yet!”
I climbed to my feet with renewed energy and checked the time. “I’ve got a little over two hours before class. I’m going to head to the cafeteria then back to my room. You hungry?”
Rory shook her head. “Nah. I want to get this story finished and I’ve still got some snacks.”
I tucked my phone in the back pocket of my jeans and grabbed my sweater from the chair. It might be warm outside, but the air conditioning units everywhere on campus made sweaters necessary. “Okay,” I said, pulling her door open. “I’ll text you after to let you know what happens.”
“Hopefully you’ll be too busy to text,” Rory said with an exaggerated eyebrow waggle that set my stomach butterflies whirling. That was my hope,
too. I set out for the cafeteria, wondering if they’d have nachos today, and dreaming of reconciling with Bash. By the time I took my seat in history class with a belly full of nachos and guac, I was in a great mood.
“Today we’ll be talking about the secret society that took our world by storm last year,” Dr. Sherman announced with a wide smile. “For centuries fraternities and “old boys clubs,” she made quotations on either side of her head, “have worked behind the scenes to influence everything from politics to religion to education. But last year, a sorority of women was revealed after the murder of Pierre LaFlamme.” She swallowed audibly and glanced down at her lap.
I felt her grief just like I’d felt my mother’s and father’s. I’d been shocked by the news of the Alpha’s murder but I’d never really spent much time thinking about him. It had been scary, mostly, the worry that things would never be the same and that the coming changes would somehow threaten our way of life.
A moment passed before she continued. “The Sisterhood revealed itself to the world in the wake of that tragedy and women from around the world threw themselves into the political ring to fight the patrilineal rule of Alphaship. Right here in Canada, a woman became Alpha, the first woman to do so in pack history.”
I leaned forward, listening intently. I may not have ever given much thought to the Alpha family growing up, but I’d lamented more than once over the patriarchy that ruled our society. It wasn’t fair that women were relegated to the shadows while male children got the opportunity to follow their father’s footsteps and make history. The fact that powerful women around the world had been planning change in secret was fascinating. I wondered if there were a chapter here.
I jotted down notes as Dr. Sherman spoke, taking note of some of the major political names as a question began to buzz in my brain. I raised my hand and waited until I was called upon.
