Chapter 3

Lying Fantasy

Cold bit into my skin, and I groaned softly, tugging on the comforters of my bed so they covered my exposed skin more thoroughly. I froze, my hand clenched around my familiar blanket, taking a deep breath of it to confirm that it was indeed mine, I could still smell the fading scent of when I had accidently poured a whole bottle of perfume on it, thank goodness it had faded.

My eyes snapped open, and my room stood before me. I was lying in my bed. How had I gotten here? The last thing I remembered was walking home from school, but I quickly disregarded it, blinking away the sleep in my eyes. Locating the source of the coldness, I noticed my bedroom window was wide open, the curtains billowing as the breeze drifted them further inside my room. Groaning I pulled myself out of the safe, warm haven of my bed and padded over to the window.

My hand met the cold glass, and I found myself instinctively looking towards the woods that was just across the street, its dark depths echoing eerily.

Suddenly the whole previous nights events came rushing back to me, and I slammed the window shut. Shaking my head slowly, I glanced at the clock, noticing that I was late; I had to be at school in an hour. Cursing the stupid alarm clock for not working for the umpteenth time, I also was glad, because it momentarily took my mind off what was nagging to take control of my every thought and worry. Werewolves.

I took a quick shower, lingering in the waterfall of warmth a bit longer than normal; the chill in the air still hadn’t gone completely away in my room. Not feeling like having to go through all the trouble of taking a curling iron to my hair like I did yesterday, on the special occasion of the first day of school, I wrapped it in a loose bun after drying it throughoughly. I gave a quick glance in the mirror before parting of my room for the day.

My dark brown hair was pulled back from my face, leaving my eyes to lay back a little in the expanse of it. Amber was the color I had finally decided they were, after many long discussions with my friends over them, I had given in; in embarrassment from the attention that it wasn’t red, but amber. My full length mirror had to be hoisted off the ground and hung on the door, so I could see my face when I looked in it. I had never been tall, always on the short side, until I got into high-school. It was like a jack and the bean stock incident, I shot up, and all of a sudden it felt like I was looking down on everybody. I hadn’t minded it, much. I tugged on the hem of my red tank top that was underneath a shirt that I could only explain as a painter’s shirt, that’s what it reminded me of, a buttoned up white shirt with a collar and ****** pockets. My belt kept my jeans from sliding off my hips, I had long gotten sick of having to pull them up every three seconds, and went through the uncomfortably of wearing a bulky belt, but at least I wasn’t always having to discreetly yank my jeans back up.

I snatched my backpack off the arm chair beside my desk and rushed downstairs. My footsteps echoed emptily across the wood floors as I walked into the dark kitchen. I flicked on a light, not surprised when I looked out the window to find the driveway abandoned of my father’s car. I walked over to the coffee pot, and grabbed a mug out of the cupboard.

There was a newspaper laid out on the table, and I checked my watch and figured I had a few minutes before I would have to start up the car. The steam of the mug wafted up to my nose as I sat down opening up the paper. The front page was just the normal stuff, the article illustrating in words about the first day back at school, the bus routes for kids and such. Absent mindedly, lost in this normal world stuff, I took a sip of the coffee.

Next thing I knew the paper was splattered with drips of coffee as I spat the mouthful out. My nose wrinkled as I realized my father had made black coffee. Quickly I ran to the sink, I poured the rest of the mug out, the scent not so much pleasant anymore, more so a disgusting reminder of the awful taste in my mouth. I was a picky coffee drinker, only taking French Vanilla, or really anything that had banished the taste of the original coffee. Basically I didn’t drink the coffee; I drank all the stuff that went with the coffee. Black coffee; well to me it just tasted like burnt dirt.

I threw the mug in the sink and went outside to the car, there was no point for me to go give my mouth some mouthwash, the taste would linger even longer. The moment I opened the garage door, I was greeted by my car’s large black shadow, I flicked on the overhead light, and the room came to life. I saw my black 1990 Mustang. Its hood was coated in a thick layer of dust, I hadn’t gone much of anywhere over the summer, and if so I walked, it had been nice out. Climbing into the driver’s seat, I was immediately enveloped in the homey scent that I had grown so used to during the long winter months, I had almost missed my little car.

“Where did I put the keys?” I spoke aloud, forgetting exactly where my hiding spot had been. I readjusted the rear view mirror, and my hand brushed the sun visor and it fell down, the pair of keys landing in my lap. Of course.

Giving a silent prayer before I turned the ignition, I attempted to turn on the car. For the first time in a long time, it roared to life on the first try, and I grinned, pressing the garage door opener.

Driving down the street, I tried to make myself forget the woods that I was passing, now knowing what lay underneath them. Giving a quick glance, I imagined silver eyes staring intensely out at me from the darkness lurking inside the wooded area. That glance had turned into a stare, and I snapped out of it when I heard a car behind me honk and realized I had started to go off the road. I shook my head again, as if doing so would shake the thought out of my head.

Could it be possible that it had all just been a dream? It was extremely possible, there was no way werewolves and other fantasy creatures lived in the same world that we normal humans did. They lived away in their fairytale stories that writer’s wrote for a career, the kind that always seemed to have a happy ending after a traumatic incident, all the twists and turns just leading the two main characters back to each other.

“Stupid Lying Fantasy,” I scoffed, pulling into the high schools parking lot. Cars were already filling up the small parking area, and I managed to snatch a decent spot that wasn’t too far away from the door that was closet to my first hour. Slipping out of the car with a small smile on my face, I walked towards first hour, my hopes high with the fact that I had worked myself out of actually thinking that the dream had been true.

“I’m sorry about yesterday…” Mr. Dubose drawled, slightly more animate than yesterday, but at least the students were practically buzzing in their seats, as if the excitement of knowing this years assignments was too much.

There was chattering behind me, and I glanced quickly my eyes skimming over the student body that filled up the Wood’s Room. I sighed a sigh of relief when I realized I hadn’t caught on a certain pair of reflective silver eyes, that certainly would’ve ruined my resolve to ignore any glimpse of the dream last night.

A flash of white appeared before my eyes, and flustered I took the stack of papers from the guy sitting next to me, picking a packet apart from the rest and passing it on to the person on my other side. The title boldly stated Wood’s Class, as if no one knew which class we were actually in.

I looked over the list, and soon got caught up on the excitement that had passed over the room; the projects we were making were not easy in the least. A dresser would be taking up most of this marking period and I read through the schedule, pleased that we would be starting it next week at the latest. Too bad I wouldn’t be able to take a piece of furniture like that up to a college dorm; I guess I could leave it to my father. I mused on; practically ignoring the whole overview Mr. Dubose was giving the class on this year’s projects.

The bell came on all too soon for me, and I collected my backpack, which was steadily filling with textbooks from various classes, and papers that were collected in them. We filed out of the room, everyone eager to get to lunch, the time where you could always count on knowing at least one familiar face.

I stuffed the book bag into the locker of mine with all my might, struggling to close the door with both my hands pressed tightly against the metal, and my feet slowly sliding down the linoleum floor. In a flash another hand appeared and the locker clicked as they gave little effort to close the stupid contraption. I whirled around to see my helper, but locked on the steely eyes I had been dreading.

“Oh god, you are real,” I murmured, reality crashing down on me, it was rather depressing.

Tristan smirked, “Hello to you too,” his voice was quiet, much more under control than I had remembered it being yesterday, as he had been yelling at the blonde man, Alpha Rayne, he had called him.

“Can’t I just forget…and perhaps go on with my life as I knew it?” I asked, my fingers twisting together in a hope of luck behind my back.

“Nope.” He stated simply and indicated with a nod of his head towards the lunch room. With a defeated sigh I followed, seeing no choice as is I was hungry from having to skip a breakfast this morning.

“We need to talk,” he said as we walked into the lunchroom, the noise seemed to be dulled in the crowded lunch room today, and giving a glance outside I noticed that it was raining. So glad I drove here.

“About?” I inquired walking towards the lunch line, not really caring if he followed or not, mostly hoping he didn’t. But he did, and but didn’t say anything as we both silently went through the lunch line, that was moving slower than normal. I could feel his presence behind me, sensing the fact that he was taller than me, his body radiated heat and I felt like snuggling up closer to him in the cold of the cafeteria. The thought had me taking a step further down the line, away from him, my cheeks blushing furiously as I snatched up a plate of whatever they were serving not bothering to check.

“You know,” he murmured, it seemed almost as if a question and a fact in one, the underlying message was a rock in the pit of my stomach.

We settled ourselves in the table of the farthest corner, it was close to the window as the rain pelted the sidewalk outside, making everything turn a darker color than before. No one sat around this corner, preferring to stay closer to the other side, looking out at the passing cars and such; we were only greeted by the woods that seemed to become an increasingly disturbing place in my thoughts.

He was staring at me, his tray as untouched as mine was at the moment, but left my gaze on the fork, acting as if it had a sudden draw towards me. He sighed heavily, before running a hand through his midnight black hair, making it stand up on end further before slowly settling back down into its gentle curls, “I really don’t know where to start,” he chuckled nervously.

I smirked, still not looking up fully, toying with the napkin now. I had not expected myself to speak, “Perhaps with the basics,” I murmured, finally looking up at him, only to find him looking out at the woods, distorted by the rain on the window panes.

“The basics,” he said slowly. “Well, first thing is one that you know…well at least I hope you do, because I’ve risked a lot of neck by thinking you do. We are werewolves.”

“Yeah…I kind of missed that part in our meeting,” I said sarcastically, finally taking one of the bread things that resembled rolled up pancakes filled with cheese and dunking it in a cup of marinara sauce.

“I’m sure you did…” he scoffed with a roll of his eyes, “I’m a Beta, if you know what that is?” he asked, for some reason my anger flared.

“Of course I know what a freaking Beta is. I am not stupid and I’ve read plenty of books, I also know what an Alpha and Omega are too,” I snapped, taking a furious bite of the cheese stick, finding it surprisingly good for something that looked like it was soaked in a vat of grease.

He didn’t yell back, or even look angered instead he smirked, and continued, “Anyhow, the other man you met, Rayne, he was the Alpha of our pack, Moon Creek.”

I stayed silent, wondering for a brief moment where these names came from for these packs, they seemed to be snatched out of thin air.

“This…you finding out about the mere existence of our pack, is a very dangerous territory you are stepping into,” his voice turned deadly serious, his eyes solidifying as if turning to steel, “One mishap and our whole pack—our whole family could be put in danger. So I wouldn’t let your big mouth and know-it-all syndrome of yours get in the way of protecting what is ours, because I have no doubt in mind that Rayne will not act upon the threat he intended to you,”

I stared emptily at him, was he serious? I mean I was just know starting to get the idea of there actually being werewolves in the world, but could they really have a whole pack’s worth of people who were hiding out in the wood’s for their whole lives in fear of being found out by people like me? I remembered, the image coming in clearly of all the cabin-like houses that had stood in an arc of the clearing. People had lived there.

His words sank in, and I nodded mutely. “I won’t tell a soul,” I said, my voice sounding truthful as I meant totally and utterly what I said.

He studied me for a minute before relaxing slightly and leaning back in his seat, “Good…now that we have the hard part over with the least we can do is get to know each other,” he said with a simple smile.

I raised an eyebrow as the conversation got to safer grounds, but went along with it. We talked about all the aspects of our life, just the basics on my part; I wasn’t going to tell him anything that might give myself away. He seemed pleasant know, but I had a feeling there was a monster on the inside of him, just waiting to jump out at the slightest angerment.

I had found myself actually enjoying his part of the story, no matter how few that may be, but his words were drawing me in. All too soon I found the bell ringing, and me with an empty tray; one of the first I’ve had in years. Sighing, I guess I wouldn’t eat as much for dinner tonight.

We got up and dumped the rememants of our meal into the trash can before walking out together to the hallways. Tristan paused by my locker, and eventually helped me pry open it, as it refused to succumb to a person who had stuffed it so full. I groaned when it was beyond help, “Guess I will just be telling the teachers to give me my books tomorrow and beg the janitor tomorrow morning to help me open this tin bucket with a crow bar,” I said in disgust, kicking the base of the locker. I had been stuck with it for four years, and I couldn’t help feeling happy this was the last year that I would have to deal with its stubbornness.

He shrugged and walked me to class, it wasn’t a comfortable accompaniment, I felt nervous on edge around him, definitely not like a boyfriend walking his girlfriend to class. That’s probably what it looked like, but I would never date someone like him, I scoffed at the thought.

He gave me an amused look, as if trying to guess my thoughts but I just shook my head. “Well, I guess I will have to suffer through another lunch with you tomorrow,” I sneered as we got to the Chemistry II door.

He smirked, and I had a terrible feeling, “Oh, you are so eager to get rid of me, I’ll be seeing you after school,”

He started walking away, leaving me with my eyebrows scrunched together. “Why?” I called down the hall after him.

His chuckle echoed off the lockers, “I’m supposed to be watching you—so I’ll be driving you to and from school each day,” and he left me with my jaw on the floor.

“Great,” I muttered, pushing into the class. The teacher gave a glance in my direction, before indicating for me to sit down.

“You’re lucky it’s the second day of school, and I’m still lenient, Miss Williams, don’t be late again,” she said, as I slumped in my seat. What did I have to do to just get rid off the past few days in my mind?

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