I joined my pack in the hallway as other students began to cautiously come out of the other rooms into the hallway. Even with the lights on, it was obvious many of them were still scared. I could understand why they would be, the humans anyway. I remembered back in California when we used to do lock down drills for possible intruders in our school. We hadn’t had any of those here in Montana. I figured that was because there were enough mages and shifters present that a person would have to be out of their mind to try and infiltrate a school like this one. But it was scary, back then, when I thought I was human, and we had to cower in the corner of the classroom with the door locked and covered as administrators or sometimes the police walked around and tried to get in, just to see if it were possible. They would pretend to be shooters, trying to get in and kill all of us, and there have been enough situations like that recently that it seemed li
Mr. Short led us into his office. I could tell he was nervous. His hands were shaking a little, and tiny beads of sweat popped up on his forehead near his hairline. I took a seat across from him, and Ben sat down beside me. It took the principal a few moments to compose himself once he settled behind his desk. He folded his hands in front of him and took a few deep breaths.When he finally started talking, his voice was soft, and he took his time, like he wasn’t exactly sure what he wanted to say. His thoughts seemed rambling and disconnected at first, like he wasn’t quite sure where he was going with this but needed to get it out of his system or something.“I am not a magical person. I don’t have any magic. I don’t know how to do magic. Until I moved to Whispering Hollow, I didn’t even know there was such a thing as magic.
Ben did his best to keep me calm all the way home, trying to tell me that everything was going to be fine the next day and that Francis and Fionna Flamingo probably wouldn’t do anything too outrageous during their meeting with Mr. Short, the principal, but I wasn’t convinced. If my boyfriend was going to take that route, the soothing, “let’s not freak out about anything until we know for sure” route, he should’ve deployed that tactic from the get-go, not attempted to put it into place after he’d already said enough to get me to lose my shit.When we pulled into the driveway, I felt calmer, though. I had been doing some deep breathing exercises on the way home, and I felt like I was going to be able to handle whatever happened the next day. It helped to be at Grandma’s familiar house and to be able to feel the forest calling to me. I intended to go sit in the
When I opened my eyes again, it was growing dark outside. I knew that didn’t necessarily mean it was the middle of the night and I’d completely lost track of time since it tended to get dark so early these days, but my stomach was rumbling, and I needed to get back home not only to scrounch something up to eat but also because I was worried about Sam. The argument that had been going on between Sam and Starla when I left the house a couple of hours ago was fresh in my mind, despite the mediation I’d done and the fact that I’d spent most of my time thinking about how I could get Fionna on my side, rather than what to do about the warring non-newlyweds occupying one of my upstairs bedrooms.The kitchen was abandoned when I walked in, which was surprising to me. Normally, you can always find at least one shifter in the kitchen at any given time. I stayed quiet for a moment to try and d
I had just finished eating my dinner when I heard Sam’s heavy footsteps coming down the stairs. I braced myself for more of the ridiculousness I’d just gone through, but when I tossed the plastic container in the bin and turned to look at him, I could tell he was upset, not angry.“Sam?” I took a few steps closer to him. He slouched against the door jamb, half in the kitchen, half in the hallway. “What’s the matter?”“I don’t know.” I’ve never seen him so despondent. “I don’t know what to do, Harlow.”I couldn’t help but feel sympathetic to his situation, even though the last thing I wanted was to talk to him about Starla. “I’m sorry, Sam.” I meant it. I hated seeing him like this. When Sam is happy, his laugh
I couldn’t let Sam’s irritation that I’d created a new house for him and his lovely girlfriend bother me because I had more important things to worry about--like Fionna. After I’d eaten, I decided to go upstairs and try to do some homework, but I was really hoping Ben would come in and talk to me. We hadn’t gotten much of a chance to talk about the situation with Miss Flamingo because as soon as we’d gotten home, we’d encountered the screaming conflict, and all of us had taken off in various directions. I hadn’t seen him since.I heard his familiar steps in the hallway leading to our room while I was staring at my history book, not able to process any of the words I was looking at. When he walked into the room, I stopped pretending to study and put the book aside. “Hi,” I said, the scent of his wolf filling the room. It was obvious he’d spen
The next morning, I walked into school on stiff legs, not sure what to expect. Ben had my hand, but it wasn’t doing much to comfort me or calm the butterflies flying around in my stomach that seemed to be having some sort of war.I had no idea what time Mrs. Flamingo had agreed to come in and meet with Mr. Short, or if she’d even agreed to meet with him for that matter, so I tried to go about my day as usual, hanging out with my pack before the first bell rang. But I was distracted. My eyes constantly searched the crowd around me, looking for Fionna or even Mr. Short. I didn’t know if he would find me before the meeting to let me know what time the Flamingos were coming or if it would just be a surprise.All through first period, I was on the edge of my seat, constantly looking at the door, waiting for my summons to the office. The bell rang,
It was odd, holding hands with another girl as I walked to the classroom door. Especially one that isn’t necessarily my friend. Especially one who is so… odd. But when Fionna Flamingo reached for my hand, I gave it to her.Why would I do such a thing? Normally, I wouldn’t. But the words the forest whispered in my ear were weighing on my mind as we walked to art class together. If I was going to win Fionna over and recruit her, the way the forest told me to, I couldn’t jerk my hand away from hers, no matter how odd or uncomfortable it might be to have her cold fingers wrapped around my wrist.It didn’t take us long to reach the art room. I pulled the door open with my free hand, hoping she’d let go of me as we entered, but she didn’t. I tried not to meet anyone’s eyes as we entered the room, but I couldn’t h
Mr. Short’s hands were shaking as he sat down behind his desk and gestured for me to sit across from him. I knew the drill by now. I’d been here enough times by now to know the drill by heart and didn’t really need for him to point to the other chair for me, but he is one of those people who likes to be official, so I gave him the opportunity to brandish his arm and show me where to sit as if I’d never been here before.He was still sweaty as he sat down across from me, but he seemed to be gathering himself together a little bit more than he had been before. I knew, though, as soon as he started talking about what had happened in the meeting, he would start sweating profusely and probably shake even more. He was definitely intimidated by Francis Flamingo, and apparently scared out of his wits at her odd daughter.“Thanks for coming