Silver Read Free

teachers to report you tardy.”
    He motioned and they left. Each one shoved
past me with more force than was necessary. I smiled at their
glares with a small rise of fierce satisfaction in my chest. The
scent of werewolf lingered in the air.
    “ I don’t think we’ve met,”
the Principal said.
    I turned and found him watching me with a
calculating expression. “Jaze Carso,” I replied, holding out my
hand.
    He shook with a firm grip. “Principal
Stewart, if you haven’t already surmised.” He tipped his head
toward the name plaque. “Please sit.”
    I took the middle seat. The odor from the
cushion told of several other wolves who had sat here among
countless students over the past few months.
    Mr. Stewart had a file in front of him. He
nodded at it. “You're the new student. I must say I didn’t expect
you to arrive in such a . . . tumultuous manner. You don’t have any
marks on your record for fighting.” He met my eyes expectantly.
    I shrugged and forced a nonchalant tone.
“I’m normally a go with the flow kind of student. I guess I sort of
. . . .“
    “ Didn’t like where this
flow was going?” he filled in.
    I smiled at his easy manner. “Yeah.”
    He sat up in the chair and put his elbows on
the desk. “May I be frank with you, Mr. Carso?”
    “ I would appreciate
it.”
    “ I would steer clear of Mr.
Clemmons and the other students that hang around with him.” He gave
me a hard look as if to make sure I took him seriously.
    I nodded again and wondered how much he
knew. He wasn’t a werewolf, that much was obvious, but he didn’t
act like he had the wool pulled over his eyes, either. He
definitely knew something was going on in his school. I couldn't
decide if that was good or bad.
    He gave me a schedule and directed me toward
my class, remarking offhand that with my GPA I shouldn’t have too
much trouble catching up. I doubted it, considering that half the
school year had already passed, but decided not to press the
issue.
    The hallway echoed with my footsteps, and
the eyes of the students in the classrooms I passed burned into my
back. Banners that read, “Go Wranglers!” and, “Stomp Those Tigers!”
lined the brick walls in red and gold lettering. Pictures of the
basketball team were encased in glass next to a shelf of trophies,
and my heart ached at the reminder of my old school.
    It had been comfortable, like slipping on an
old pair of shoes. I knew where everyone stood, and nobody messed
with me, not because I was intimidating, but because I made it a
point not to be too good at anything despite the extra strength and
endurance my werewolf attributes gave me. I had a solid group of
friends and the support of the pack. Everything had been perfect,
until that night.
    I gritted my teeth and pulled opened the
door that matched the number on my schedule. Twenty-five pairs of
eyes, the teacher’s included, turned to me. I showed the teacher my
schedule and took the seat he indicated, front and center of
course, the only empty chair in the classroom. I stifled a sigh and
pulled a blank notebook from my backpack.
     
     

Chapter 3
     
    I had repeated the same scenario in three
other classrooms by the time the lunch bell rang. In one, a wide
berth of chairs fronting where the teacher stood was empty despite
the fact that several students lounged against the back wall while
they took notes. Upon taking my seat, I realized that it was the
designated splash zone for a teacher who spoke with a lisp and a
lot of enthusiasm. I tried in vain to shield my notebook from the
splattering and vowed to get there early enough the next day so
that I could get a better seat; otherwise, I would be forced to buy
a parka.
    I stood in line in the lunchroom and
pretended to review the day’s food list while I studied the layout
of the room from the corner of my eye. Rows of off-white tables
made up the middle of the room while shorter tables stood on either
side. Students shouted insults and comments to each