Two

A throbbing pain exploded in my head as I cracked open my eyelids. The noise in my head sounded like a rumba band gone wild. It was fucking painful and I was forced to slam my eyes shut again.

Groaning, I pressed my fingertips against my temples, desperately trying to massage the ache away. Then I froze, trying to piece together my surroundings.

My headache ceased momentarily when I recognized my surroundings. Bookshelves overflowing with my favorite novels, the familiar cream walls of my childhood bedroom, my cat…

Terror washed over me, stealing my breath. I was at my parents' house. 

This meant my parents knew about the humiliating airport incident.

Fuck me!

A fresh wave of pain hit me as Donovan's rejection replayed on a loop in my mind. The bastard had sworn his undying love on the phone just two days ago, whispering sweet nothings about how excited he was to see me. 

Fumbling for my phone on the nightstand, I tried calling Ria, only to discover a lifeless battery. Just as I cursed my luck, my seventeen-year-old sister, Astrid, sashayed in with a tray piled high with food.  

Her almond-shaped eyes, cute button nose, and long black curls made her look like Disney's Mulan come to life. It always amazed me how different we were; I was the only blonde with green eyes in the entire family.

"Hey sis, feeling rough? I whipped up some chicken soup."

"I feel like I got hit by a truck," I groaned, managing to prop myself up against the pillows. Astrid placed the steaming bowl in my hands, the broth filled with tender chunks of chicken.

"Thanks," I mumbled, stopping her before she could leave. "How did I end up here?"

She shrugged nonchalantly. “Ria brought you home. Mom's not exactly thrilled, though.”

 She got out her phone and started playing the video of Donovan's public rejection.

"You're trending for all the wrong reasons. They've turned it into memes. Even penguins in Antarctica must have seen it by now. Mom's mortified because her friends and neighbors can't stop calling."

Burying my face in the pillow, I groaned. "Oh, crap."

"Stop the video," I pleaded as she scrolled through hateful comments. Most branded me "desperate," "pathetic," and "stupid." Only a few dared to blame Donovan. 

Though I usually had thick skin, this time, the words stung.

Donovan had repaid my love by getting someone pregnant. With the amount of crap I'd been through, I felt like I was destined to be a spinster.

Snowy, my Persian cat, yowled, announcing his presence. I reached out to stroke his soft white fur, his icy blue eyes and pink ears a source of comfort.

Fear gnawed at my stomach. I wondered how my parents had taken the news. Taking a deep breath, I slowly padded downstairs, bracing myself for the worst.

My dad, looking tired as always, and my mom, with a thundercloud frown, sat in our living room, sipping tea and watching the news. Mom shot daggers at me when she saw me walk in.

Luther, my younger brother (and Astrid's twin), oblivious to the drama, was glued to his phone, not even sparing me a glance.

"Good to see you're awake, Vespa," Mom said, her voice cold as ice. "Your recklessness deserves its own course in the curriculum."

Shamefaced, I hung my head. "Mom, Dad, I'm so sorry. I really thought Donovan liked me."

"You thought?" Mom exploded. Her voice rose several octaves and her face turned the color of a ripe tomato. "You imbecile! I always knew you were trouble, but this takes the cake. You deliberately dated a werewolf to disgrace us! Vespa, for goodness sake, what were you thinking?"

"Mom, please stop. It was a mistake."

She glared at me. "A mistake, you say? How dare you call this humiliating public display a mistake?"

My temper flared. "You're supposed to be on my side! At least hear my side of the story before condemning me. You're always nagging about wanting grandkids, and I thought maybe getting married early would make you happy, but seeing your strong reaction, I don't owe you any grandchildren."

My parents had me well into their forties after struggling with infertility for over two decades. One of the reasons I'd accepted Donovan's proposal was to settle down and give them some grandkids.

Mom's stern look softened a fraction. "That doesn't excuse you falling for a werewolf, Vespa. And for this, you must accept George Sandcastle's proposal. You should be grateful for his generosity.”

I choked back my retort about George being a closeted coward. He was gay and hasn't come out to his religious parents. 

Days bled into a week. Home became a suffocating prison as Mom kept on piling blame on me. Ria, my best friend, urged me to return to school, reminding me that skipping classes could jeopardize my final year.

On Monday morning, I tackled my pixie hair into my signature side part, donned a black hoodie and jeans, and drove my beat-up Volkswagen to school. 

My hands trembled as I parked near the faculty building, and a cold sweat was clinging to my skin.

Scandal thrived on popularity. I was popular in school and an easy target. I held various leadership positions: Vice President of the Students' Union, campus radio host, the powerhouse behind the school paper, and the founder of a feminist club.

Right now, I felt anything but powerful. Fear ate at me like a hungry beast. I braced myself for the malicious campus gossip and whispers about me.

Surprisingly, the atmosphere felt oddly normal.Pushing aside my fear, I hurried through the deserted hallways towards my first class. A giggle erupted as I entered, drawing my attention to a group of snickering girls. The rest of the class ignored me as if I had a contagious disease. A few angry stares wouldn't break me.

Ria rushed in and pulled me in a hug. "Don't let them get to you," she whispered fiercely.

I offered a weak smile, eager to change the subject.

The moment I stepped out of class, the dam broke. A chorus of insults were thrown at me, some louder than others. A tall girl with frizzy hair sneered, "Delusional. A joke to her so-called feminist movement."

Ignoring them wasn't easy, but Ria, who used to be painfully shy in high school, wouldn't tolerate their bullying. She confronted the girls, giving them a taste of their own medicine.

"They can't all be assholes, right?" I offered a sad smile, but Ria didn't smile."There are awful memes of you circulating online..."

"I've seen them, and honestly, I'm okay."

By midday, I was at the Student Union office, my to-do list a mile long: meet with my project supervisor, write a story for the paper, prepare for my radio show...but I couldn't bring myself to do anything.

The dean, a short, portly man, walked in and announced a new semester-long exchange program. Over a hundred werewolves would be joining our school. The news left a bitter taste in my mouth because I was dumped and disgraced by their kind.

Kaden, the student union president, grumbled, "Weren't we trying to get rid of the few we already have? Why invite more?"

"I answer to the vice-chancellor, not you," the dean chuckled. "Your job is to ensure peaceful coexistence. Integrate them, find them dorms. If you fail, things will get messy."

After he left, Kaden turned to me with a dark smile.

"Those freaks must have lined the VC's pockets with gold. Since you love them so much, why not handle their registration yourself?"

My usual sharp remark died in my throat. The weight of everything was crushing down on me. I sat in a quiet corner, Ria was by my side to support me.

We prepared for registration and waited. Five massive buses pulled up in front of the building. Tall figures, unmistakably werewolves, began to step down with their backpacks.

Ria nudged me with a pen. "Holy moly, Vespa. Look who's here. Your saviors."

"Saviors?" I scoffed.

"Yeah! The three guys from the airport. Remember them?”