Heather

Dr. Gonzales led me through the courtyard to a three story red-brick building. The unobtrusive sign on it read "Girl’s Dormitory" in plain font. The walls inside were a pale mint. It was decorated in Pottery Barn-esque stuff.

A large navy sectional and love seat surrounded a flat screen hanging against the far wall. To the right was a little kitchenette with top of the line appliances, and dual Subzero fridges. A girl was poking around in one of them. It was fully stocked with food, each item in a plastic container and labeled.

Looked like whoever organized the fridge could be my new BFF.

Three other girls were chatting on the couches as some lame reality show played on the TV. It—this building, the way it was decorated, and the girls hanging out—all seemed so normal. I don’t know why that surprised me, but it did.

Dr. Gonzales cleared her throat. The girls paused the TV and swiveled on the couch to stare at me.

"Ladies, this is Heather."

They gave a chorus of "hi’s" as they gawked at me. I almost reached for my face to check for dirt when a tall, thin girl stood up. She flicked her perfectly silky straight light brown hair over one shoulder and smirked at me.

"You look familiar. Oh, right." She laughed and tapped one of her friends. "That’s the girl who jumped out the window."

I raised an eyebrow at Dr. Gonzales. "It sure will be easier here, huh?"

Dr. Gonzales had the grace to look a bit embarrassed. "I know you’ll do your best to welcome Heather to her new home."

La Bitch grinned. "We’ll welcome her."

I wondered what her idea of "welcoming" would involve.

Dr. Gonzales led me to a stairwell. "We’re lucky we have the space to give everyone their own rooms, but you share a bath with the room to the right of you. I think you’ll find you have a lot in common with your suitemate, Serena." She stopped in front of a door, number 27, and handed me a key. "There is no need to lock it. We’re completely safe here, but I wasn’t sure if you’d feel more comfortable this way."

Hell yes I’d feel more comfortable that way. The looks those girls were giving me downstairs were not exactly friendly. I didn’t trust anyone here.

Inside was a small room with a desk, full sized bed, end table, and chest of drawers.

They were all Ikea white lacquered. A bright purple poster in a gaudy black frame brushed with hints of gold hung above my bed. It was an outline of the Cheshire Cat’s big grin. Underneath the grin was big bold font that read, "Keep Calm. We’re all Mad Here."

I rolled my eyes. "My brother?"

"Yes." She scrunched her nose. "I can take it down—"

"No way." I ran my hand down the edge of the frame. She didn’t know my brother or me well enough to get the joke. But it was like having a piece of him here. If she wanted it gone, she’d have to pry it from my cold, dead hands. "It’s perfect."

"Your father insisted on new furniture for the room. He told me to tell you so."

I nodded. To the side of the bed, metal shelves had been attached to the wall. Each of my books was in the identical spot I had placed them in my room.

I was fully set up here, which probably meant I wasn’t going home anytime soon.

"My parents..." I stopped.

My voice sounded pathetic even to me, and I couldn’t have that.

"They don’t want this anymore than you do. But after seeing what happened to you at the hospital, they didn’t have any other choice."

"So when can I go home?"

"Let’s not worry about that right now, but maybe they can come visit."

That didn’t sound vague at all. "But my dad works for the school. Can I see him at least?"

"He works off-site."

I nodded as I clenched my jaw shut to keep from saying something awful.

"You’re going to get through this. Just remember to take it one day at a time."

I tuned her out as she rambled on. Her assumptions were a bit more than I could bear at that moment.

I tuned back in as she tapped the stack of books on my desk. "Your books are all here, as well as your schedule and a map of campus. Our curriculum is a bit different from your usual high school, so don’t let that throw you."

"I’m sure it won’t be a problem." Because I was getting out of here as soon as possible.

She picked up a small, brown leather bound book. "The Werewolf’s Bible. It’s basically a guide to everything about being a Were. It explains most of what you’ll be going through." She paused, waving it at me. "Please read it. If you have any questions or just want to talk, I hope you’ll come find me. You don’t have to go through this alone."

Maybe she didn’t think so, but I didn’t know a soul here. I sighed. That wasn’t exactly true. I kind of knew Brent. Not that I wanted to see him again.

No, I was lying to myself again. I totally wanted to see him, but I wasn’t going to let my hormones win. Not this time anyhow.

As soon as Dr. Gonzales left the room, I collapsed onto the bed. I wanted to curl up in a ball and cry. Instead, I got up and searched for my cell. West would have a plan to get me out of here.

My suite-mate’s door slammed.

"Hello," a voice called out. There was a knock from the adjoining bathroom door. "Can I come in?"

I wanted to say no. I hadn’t even had time to find my cell, let alone catch my breath.

"Heather?"

I pulled off my ripped gloves and tossed them in the trashcan next to my desk. Clearing my throat, I tried to sound confident. "You can come on in."

A girl with long copper hair in a ponytail came into my room. Two thick chunks of hair framed her face. She had forest green eyes and rosy cheeks.

She was nearly six feet and thin. My first thought was that she should be in a magazine or on the runway, not sharing a bathroom with me.

She started to walk toward me, but then stopped. "Are you okay?"

I laughed, but it didn’t have any humor. "I’m so not even in the realm of okay."

She sat down on my bed, resting against the footboard. "Well, I’m Serena—if you hadn’t guessed that already—and I’m here if you want to talk about it. Dr. Gonzales said you might have some questions."

The good doctor had already sent a spy? "I wouldn’t know where to start. But thanks anyways."

She reached over to pat my hand. I flinched.

There it was. My skin touching her bare skin, but nothing happened. What was wrong with my visions? I always hoped that by some miracle they would go away. Now that they might be gone, I wanted them back. Pronto.

"Being a Were is amazing. Promise."

Not sure she could make that kind of a promise. "I’m sure it is."

"It’s dinner time. I’ll introduce you to all the good people and fill you in on the gossip." She gave me a megawatt smile. "You’ve got questions. I’ve got answers," she said with a wink.

A surprised laugh escaped as I realized she’d quoted the RadioShack slogan.

She leaned close to me and sniffed and then crinkled her nose. "They must not have washed the stuff they put in the infirmary with you. Reeks of dryer sheets. Norms." She rolled her eyes.

Norms?

She dragged me into the bathroom. "Freshen up and I’ll get you some clothes."

The bathroom vanity had two sinks. White subway tiles covered the bottom half of the walls and lined the shower. The white granite counter had plenty of room for two girls to spread out. The mirror opened in panels with enough shelves to make my inner organizer happy.

I splashed some cold water on my face, and stared into the mirror. Something was different. My hair shined, highlights and lowlights gave the brown more depth than I’d ever had before.

It looked shampoo commercial good. But the thing that stuck out the most to me was my 100% zit-free face. I always had some sort of blemish lurking here or there. Not even the tiniest red splotch marked my skin now.

They must have given me a few shots of super vitamins or antibiotics or something. Maybe a super vitamin E? Dr. Needle-happy might not be so bad after all.

I rummaged through my makeup bag that sat on the counter. Half of it wasn’t necessary with my complexion being so clear. A quick swipe of gloss would be enough. I wasn’t trying to impress anyone. It only had a hint of chemically smell, so I put it on.

Serena was still digging through my clothes when I walked back into my room. "You’ve got some cute stuff." She pulled out a black mini. "Love this."

I laughed. "With your body, it’ll probably look better on you than me."

"Yeah, ’cause you’re such a cow." She rolled her eyes. "I threw some jeans and a tank on the bed. Change. I’ll wait." She moved over to look through my books.

I moved to the bed and picked up the tank top. It was one of my staples, black ribbed with black lace edging. But something was different with it.

Something about it made me want to spend the night rubbing my face in it. I took a wiff of it, and smelled wood and something manly.

Totally weird. "My clothes smell—"

"Like Brent!" She jumped in place. "Doesn’t he smell like soooo yummy?"

Damn it. I didn’t want to like her, but I couldn’t help smiling with her. "I hadn’t noticed before. I guess he does. So uuh, dare I ask why they smell like him?"

She waved me off and went back to the books. "He helped move your stuff in. I think it was part of his ongoing punishment."

"Punishment?"

She looked back at me. "For biting you."

"Is that his only punishment?"

She shook her head slowly. "No. Not even close."

I sat hard on the bed. This didn’t sound good. "Is he going to be okay?"

"I don’t know." She sat next to me. "I wouldn’t worry about him. There might be a trial or something, but he’ll probably be okay."

I took a deep breath with my face in the tank. I couldn’t believe I was torn between being repulsed and happy that it smelled like him. That guy had seriously messed with my head.

And I really shouldn’t care what might happen to him, but the "he’ll probably be okay" thing was bothering me. "What kind of punishment could he get?"

"No one really knows, although everyone is talking about it. It’s a huge deal that he bit you. I mean, it’s against our Law. We’re not like humans. The consequences are..." She got up and started looking through the stuff on my desk. "We just don’t break our Law. So, Brent’s been keeping to himself and spending a lot of time as a wolf. And I’m sure we’ll have a visit from the Seven before too long."

Was she purposely trying to not give me all the info? "The Seven?" It sounded a little sharp, even to me.

"Oh, sorry. We’ve never had a bitten wolf here."

I made a mental note to ask about that later.

"They’re like our president, but more like a governing council made up of seven really old Alpha werewolves."

"So what’s the worst case scenario?"

She made a face, scrunching up her nose. "I don’t want to freak you out. It probably won’t even happen."

"Okay, then don’t say things like ’I don’t want to freak you out.’ Because first thing I do is start to freak out!"

She replaced the book she was holding back where she found it, and let out a breath. "He could get sentenced to death."