6. Guide

The moment Professor Sherman opened the file handed to him by the admin lady, his demeanor shifted noticeably. He skimmed through the contents with an intensity that made the atmosphere in the room grow tense. When he suddenly looked up at me, his gaze was piercing, almost unnerving. "Professor Marlen Cooper's personal recommendation, eh? That's... curious." The mention of this Professor Cooper's name seemed to electrify the air. Everyone in the room visibly tensed, their postures straightening.

I found myself agreeing silently. It was curious. I had no clue who Professor Cooper was, yet his name seemed to command a weighty respect. Sitting across from me, the twins nodded in unison at this revelation. Nick, beside me, just grunted, shifting uncomfortably in his seat.

"Well, as good a time as any for a quick review," Professor Sherman announced, making everyone groan. His sharp gaze silenced them instantly.

He moved to the bookcase, retrieved a thick old book, and handed it to me. His eyes lingered on mine longer than necessary, making me even more uncomfortable. 

Deep breaths I kept silently repeating to myself. Well, as deep as I could take with this restrictive ass binder on.  

"Alright, class. The three main laws?" he prompted.

The class began to recite, "First, werewolves are pack animals, beasts cloaked in human disguises. They're cunning and deceptive. Never trust a werewolf. Second, a werewolf's bite is a fate worse than death. Avoid it at all costs. Third, steer clear of werewolves during the full moon. If you witness a werewolf shifting, your only option is to run. Lastly, silver and Wolfsbane are your best allies against werewolves."

Professor Sherman turned to me. "James, do you have any experience hunting?"

Yeah, as the prey, I thought. A shiver ran through my body, but I managed to quell it.

"No, sir. We don't have this type of academy down south, at least not that I'm aware of," I replied, desperately attempting to keep my voice even and deep. 

I couldn't help but notice Cam and his group hadn't taken their eyes off me since I'd entered the room. Their intense stares were unsettling, to say the least.

As the Professor explained the program, the others murmured and snickered in the background. One of Cam's associates made a derogatory remark about a "midget monster hunter," earning a fierce stare from Professor Sherman. He quickly cleared their throat and fell silent.

"During this academic year, we'll focus primarily on strategy. Mostly escape and evasion techniques during encounters with werewolves," the Professor continued. "Our curriculum combines indoor lessons and practical backcountry training."

Strategy? Perfect, my area of expertise. "Can humans actually kill werewolves?" I asked. 

"Of course we can," Professor Sherman replied. "But not you all, not yet. Werewolves are dangerous pack creatures, and killing one often provokes retribution from the entire pack. You aren't prepared for that. First, learn to survive, to cover your tracks well. We'll get into dispatching these monsters later on."

I glanced around the room, trying to take in every detail. My attention was drawn to a stunning chess set crafted from wood and stone, proudly displayed upfront. As I absorbed my surroundings, I felt Professor Sherman's grey eyes on me. I squirmed under his scrutiny as my eyes met his again, hoping my nervousness wasn't too apparent.

The Professor chuckled, breaking the tension. "Don't be nervous, son. I understand this is a lot to take in. I'm assigning you a guide for the first six weeks to help you acclimate to the program's pace. I'll get you two together after class."

Turning to Peter, I asked, "What exactly is a guide?"

Peter responded nervously, "Your guide is essentially your mentor. They could be a senior or a peer who excels in the program. Trust me, It's crucial not to defy them. Just remember they're here to guide and train you, no matter what they do."

The Professor's words lingered in my mind as he cleared the chalkboard. "Only about 30% of the 100 boys in this year's class will advance to Junior year. And that 30% includes the first seven to pass the final trials. They are guaranteed a spot."

I settled back into my seat, feeling the weight of the challenge before me. The road ahead was daunting, much like the road to get here in the first place.

I had to get a spot. I didn't have a choice. I couldn't leave. At least not until I learned what I needed to know. 

Two students entered, carrying large boxes. Professor Sherman stood up. "Ah, perfect. Take this time to review, gentleman," he announced before following the students to the back room.

Julien slid into the seat next to me. Nick had vacated his spot so subtly that I hadn't even realized he'd moved. To be so big, he was so quiet and evasive. It was oddly interesting and unnerving at the same time. 

"Hello again!" Julien greeted me with a warmth that took me by surprise. His friendliness seemed almost out of place in this environment, and I found myself wondering if he was flirting. It was an unexpected dynamic to consider in a place like this. I prepared myself for male camaraderie, but I hadn't even considered the idea of encountering that kind of male bonding here. 

Scrambling for something to say, I noticed the name on the back of his jersey as he leaned forward to tease Nick, who was now seated with the twins. "Julien Hightower? I knew a couple of Hightowers back at my old school." 

It was a lie, a small fabrication to spark conversation. It seemed harmless enough.

Julien eyed me curiously, then shrugged. "Very likely kin somewhere down the line. My family's lineage goes back centuries, you know."

I must have looked at him oddly because he suddenly sat up straighter, his arm brushing against mine in the process. He paused, looking at the spot where our skin touched, before he asked, "You have no idea who I am, do you?"

I noticed Cam was visibly agitated by Julien interacting with me like this. His discomfort made me even more curious about both of them and what type of dynamics were truly at play there.

 "Honestly, no," I replied.

Julien laughed out loud as he looked around at the other guys, who seemed just as surprised. "If you don't know anything about this world, how did you get in here? And with Coop's blessing, no less?" he asked.

"Coop?" I repeated, surprised to hear the mysterious Professor Cooper referred to so casually. Julien just nodded, waiting for my answer.

I could feel my defenses rising. Clearing my throat to ensure my voice didn't do the same, I explained, "Y'all know I grew up in a small town in the south. Up until recently, werewolves were like unicorns to me. Something from TV and books. I came to this academy for the elite scholarships they offer. They afford me the opportunity to grow beyond my current self, something I found severely lacking where I am from. I'm just taking this class for that growth and any extra credit I can get towards my GPA. So yeah, I'm not sure what you guys are talking about."

They seemed to accept my explanation, laughing it off. One of Cam's associates commented about my height again, but Julien cleared his throat, silencing him with a look. He sat back, resting his arm on the back of my chair. "Well James, lets just say my family is a pretty big deal around here," he said without taking his eyes off of Cam. 

Yeah, I had to figure out more about the dynamics there.

Class ended, and Professor Sherman beckoned me to follow him. As we exited, I couldn't shake the feeling of being watched. I glanced over my shoulder but saw nothing out of the ordinary. It was unsettling how odd I felt leaving the class with the Professor. 

Walking through the crowded halls, I struggled to keep up with his fast pace. His sharp gaze darted towards me occasionally, making me increasingly nervous. I couldn't help but notice his eyes flicking to my throat. 

Was he looking for something?

Or perhaps noticing the absence of something? 

Either one was bad.

The walk to his office felt endless. Nerves, the fast pace we were walking, and this horribly restrictive binder made breathing harder with every step. Finally, we arrived at a door marked with a beautifully carved name tag. The door was ajar, and I could see the shadow of someone inside.

"It looks like your guide has already arrived," Professor Sherman said, pushing the door open further.

Stepping inside, my heart sank as I saw Cameron's icy smile. The last time I had seen that smile was in the bathroom as he observed those other men tormenting Peter.

Cameron stood there, a predatory gleam in his eyes as he stared at me.

 "We meet again, James," he said, with a huge evil grin plastered on his face.