Chapter 6

“You're transferring!" Emily's voice burst out, her face displaying sheer astonishment.

A heavy sigh escaped me as I closed my locker; I turned to face her, finding her gaze already locked onto me.

"Before you say anything, just hear me out," I began, attempting to assemble my thoughts coherently.

"Go ahead, then," Emily retorted, her arms crossed firmly, her expression resolute.

"I know you're mad," I started, but she cut me off before I could continue.

"Mad doesn't even cover it. You swore we'd graduate side by side and pick a college together…" Emily started listing off our shared promises, a gleam of nostalgia in her eyes as if she were replaying those moments.

Those promises had been made when we were kids, barely teenagers; to be honest, they'd slipped my mind over time.

"I get it, I really do," I interjected, knowing full well she could list those promises for hours if I let her.

"So, why are you leaving me?" Emily murmured, her eyes turning slightly glassy, a hint of puppy-dog eyes.

Emily was always on the emotional side, and I could feel the tension between us escalating to a tearful breakdown if I didn't defuse it soon – and I wasn't ready for that.

"Emily, calm down. It's just a school transfer. It doesn't mean we stop being best friends," I reassured her, mustering the most reassuring smile I could conjure.

"But what if you meet some other girl, get close to her, and forget all about me?" Emily countered, her brows slightly furrowed.

"That's not going to happen. Remember how long it took for me to even call you my best friend?" I reminded her, my not-so-touchy-feely nature not giving her much to worry about.

"Yeah, you're right," she admitted, a small giggle escaping her lips as she reminisced about our initial encounters.

"But, seriously, why didn't you put up a fight against the transfer?" Emily suddenly questioned, a perplexed expression on her face.

"So, you think I just accepted the transfer without any fuss?" I arched an eyebrow, and Emily's mouth formed an 'o' as she caught my drift.

Yesterday

"Dad, you can't be serious," I protested, trailing after my father around the house.

"I'm not transferring schools," I declared, hoping he'd respond, but he remained impassive.

"Do you even hear me, Dad?" I frowned, exasperated by his indifference.

He settled into the living room couch, and I followed suit.

"I won't do it. I won't transfer," I asserted, crossing my arms defiantly, digging my heels in.

My father turned to me, an unreadable expression in his eyes. His demeanor had always been a bit imposing, sometimes even resembling a beast, which often left me uneasy. It had been a surprise to learn he was an omega – not the alpha I'd imagined him to be. The yellow eyes he sported in his wolf form had shocked me; I'd always harbored hopes that my mother was an alpha, though the very idea of a female alpha seemed implausible.

"Ashley," my father's voice pulled me from my thoughts, his tone gentle as he addressed me.

"Yes, Father?" I replied, wondering what he was about to say, hoping it would negate my impending transfer.

Rising from his seat, he approached me, his gaze unwavering and slightly unsettling. His hand came to rest on my cheek, a rare show of affection.

"You remind me of your mother," he began, a soft smile tugging at his lips as he reminisced.

"She was as beautiful as you, and brave too. Fearlessly confronting anyone, anytime, regardless of the consequences. She had confidence and boldness, much like you." I struggled to understand where he was leading with this, his face betraying no further clues.

"I'm not following, Father," I admitted, met with a faint smile.

"But there's one small difference between you two. Can you guess what it is?" he asked, looking at me. Though it felt like a rhetorical question, I answered anyway.

"I'm even more beautiful than she was," I replied confidently, earning a quiet chuckle from him.

"Her selflessness set her apart. She always put others ahead of herself," my father's smile warmed, and he walked away, leaving me alone in the room.

His words left me pondering their significance. Was he trying to convey something crucial? The absence of any mention about my transfer puzzled me.

"What was he trying to imply? And I won't be transferring schools!" I yelled, but my father was already out of sight.

Presently, Emily's face wore a mix of confusion and realization.

"But he didn't mention you resisting the transfer, so that means you don't have to go!" Emily concluded with excitement, yet deep down, I sensed my dad's words carried more meaning.

"I understand my dad better than that, and I don't think that's what he meant," I sighed, attempting to explain.

"You can't be sure," Emily said skeptically, clearly hoping to avoid the transfer, but my dad's cryptic communication left no room for doubt.

"I'm sorry, Emily. This time, it's beyond my control," I said, hoping for her understanding.

An awkward silence settled between us before Emily broke it. "Okay, you can transfer, but promise you'll call me every day and won't find another best friend," she stated, extending her pinky finger for a pinky swear.

Emily was well aware of my tendency to forget promises, yet she insisted on extracting a promise. I complied willingly, as long as it brought her joy.

"Fine," I agreed, linking our pinkies, which brought a smile to Emily's face.

"By the way, which school are you transferring to?" Emily suddenly inquired.

"Um... I think it's something like Delight? I can't quite recall what Uncle called it," I struggled to retrieve the school's name, yet it remained just out of reach.

"Girl, I know all the schools around here, and I've never heard of Delight," Emily chuckled.

"I simply can't remember," I admitted, and Emily was on the verge of responding when a loud shriek reverberated through the hallway. We both turned to witness a group of girls shrieking and gathering around their phones.

"Oh my goodness, he's so hot!" one of them exclaimed, prompting Emily to leave my side and rush over to join them.

"Completely my type," Emily murmured, engrossed in the images on the phone.

"Come on, Ashley, check out how attractive this guy is," she beckoned me over. I approached and saw a shirtless guy, his abs on full display, looking incredibly alluring. He exuded an undeniable charisma, and I might have drooled a bit.

"Oh my goodness, he's so hot," I agreed, unable to deny the evidence.

Emily continued scrolling, showcasing more handsome guys, prompting the girls to squeal in excitement as they collectively admired the images.

"I wish I could attend the same school as them," one of them sighed.

"Yeah, me too. I heard only the hottest and wealthiest ranked werewolves attend there," Emily sighed wistfully, her expression tinged with longing.

"Count me in," the other girls chimed in unison, their eyes shining with longing as they playfully pretended to cry while clutching each other.

"Which school are you all discussing?" I inquired, feeling at a loss.

"Ashley, seriously? Don't tell me you're oblivious to the most prestigious school in the realm," Emily scoffed, looking at me with disbelief. I stood there, utterly bewildered, with no inkling of her reference.

"I honestly have no idea," I mumbled, feeling entirely lost.

"The crème de la crème of schools," she added, while the girls reacted with incredulity.

"The school where the highest-ranked werewolves attend..."

"For heaven's sake, just tell me!" I interrupted her, growing impatient.

"Alright, Ashley. I'm talking about Elite High School," Emily enthused, employing grand gestures to underscore its significance, and the girls squealed upon hearing the name. Suddenly, realization dawned. I felt a surge of familiarity as I finally recalled the name of the school I'd been attempting to summon from my memory.

"That's the school I'm transferring to – Elite," I disclosed, prompting all the girls to turn their wide-eyed attention towards me.