Heather

What! "Death?"

"Hey, it’s not like I didn’t warn you. You said you wanted worst case scenario."

"Yeah, but killing him is a little extreme, don’t you think! I’m still alive. I’m fine...ish." Even if I wasn’t fine, I didn’t want him to die.

I looked from her to the clothes. She wasn’t going to give me any privacy. I grabbed them off the bed and turned my back to her.

As I pulled on my jeans, I noticed they were a little baggy. Guess being "sick" burned some calories, but I was looking a little too thin. My ribs were even protruding a little—which was nowhere near sexy.

I jerked my top down when Serena started talking again. "We have all of our regular classes together—math, chem, English, history. And yikes, you have Were history with the freshman. And metaphysics with them too. Well, at least you have yoga and martial arts with me. That’s not so bad."

Yoga? Martial arts? Were? What the hell kind of classes was I going to be taking?

She grabbed my hand. "Come on. We’re gonna be late." My skin froze as she pulled me out the door.

No visions. Not even a twinge.

I slid my hand from hers and rubbed it on my jeans. "Wait. What about shoes?"

"Oh. Just grab some flip-flops. That’s what most of us wear. Makes shifting easier if you don’t have to untie your shoes all the time. And once you change, you’ll get used to being without clothes too. Gotta get used to being in front of everyone in your birthday suit." She winked.

"What! No. NO! You’ve gotta be out of your mind."

She doubled over laughing at whatever look I had on my face. I guessed it was somewhere between completely scandalized and totally horrified.

Changing clothes while keeping on my underwear was one thing.

I could pretend it was like being in a bathing suit. And she was only one girl. No one saw me completely naked. Not even Mom.

"You should see the look on your face. I’m sorry. I had to. It was just so easy." She took a breath. "We don’t roam around naked or anything. And we have special robes for when we change in groups and don’t want to rip up our clothes. Plus, plenty of bushes and trees to hide behind and hidden stashes of clothes in the woods."

That was at least a little better, but still completely weird.

The sun set as we walked through the courtyard to the cafeteria. The two and three story red brick buildings dotted the campus, all of them simple in their style but beautiful, even if they did feel a little jail-esque right then. The smell of the trees, cedar and oak and pine, mixed all together made me feel calm.

This was going to take some getting used to. I hoped Brent wasn’t at dinner. Would he try to talk to me? Oh shit. What if he was there but he didn’t want to talk to me? That would be completely awkward.

I held my breath as we got to the cafeteria. It was my second new school in as many weeks. That was a record, even for me. Somehow, the first time at a cafeteria in a new school never got any easier.

Screw it. It was like ripping off a band-aid. Right?

The cafeteria was filled with students grabbing food. There was a short order grill, bars for salad, baked potatoes, and desserts, and a station with hot entrees. No one looked shy about eating as people moved from one station to the next piling their trays high. Not one girl had a water and plain lettuce on her tray. Yet everyone was in amazing shape.

I’d definitely entered the Twilight Zone.

I looked down at my jeans and tank. Yeah, my clothes blended, but I didn’t fit in. Every other girl in there looked like they could be models. They were tall, all legs.

And everyone moved gracefully, as if they were choreographed into some intricate dance. No one bumped into each other. Nothing spilled or slopped around on their trays.

The guys were just as impressive. They were all tall and built—muscles stretching T-shirts almost beyond their capacity. It was like I walked into a living Abercrombie ad.

What a nightmare.

It hit me suddenly, and I started roughly counting the people in the room. There were at least three times as many guys there as girls. I never considered myself much of a women’s lib person, but this was ridiculous. Sex bias much?

"Come on." Serena dragged me the rest of the way to the brown plastic trays.

I grabbed a slice of roast beef and some veggies and started to walk away. Serena grasped my arm, pulling me back to the line. "That’s not enough food." She piled on mashed potatoes with gravy and rolls and pasta and everything else within reach onto my plate until my tray was fully loaded down.

I lifted it and it was at least ten pounds heavier than it had been a minute ago.

"Oh. You need this too." She carefully balanced a slice of pecan pie on the edge of the tray.

"So what army am I supposed to be giving this to?"

"No one told you?"

"No one’s told me anything. I just got here, remember?"

A smile broke across her face. "You’re going to like this."

I was?

"Being a werewolf has its advantages. You don’t get sick. Ever. We heal fast. And because we heal so fast, we’re slow to age. But all of that, plus shifting, burns a ton of calories. Think mega calories. So, you have to eat a lot to keep up with your new metabolism." She started scooping food onto her tray again. "Mr. L might look like he’s in his mid-thirties, but think like five times that."

She’d just made my brain explode and had no clue that she’d done it. This was a lot to take in. I glanced down at my overflowing tray and wondered if I would even be able to carry it.

"So what, I’m going to look seventeen for the next five years."

"Kind of. We age normally for a while, but then it slows way down once you hit your first shift." I must’ve made a face, because she answered my question before I asked it. "Puberty."

"Awesome." Because puberty wasn’t hard enough already.

"Seriously," she said. "I’m not kidding. You need to eat all of that. If you’re hungry, you get pissy. A pissy werewolf is a dangerous werewolf."

When she decided we had enough, she looked for a table. Ignoring everyone had been easy while I got food, but once I turned, the entire cafeteria stopped eating to stare at me. Low whispers spread through the room.

Fantastic. Now if I could make it to the table without tripping, that would be good.

I followed Serena as she wove through the tables. Most people stopped talking when I walked by them, except for one table.

"Don’t worry, Brent. She won’t dare approach you here."

I spun—nearly toppling my soda. La Bitch was back.

Then I saw them. A pair of golden eyes. La Bitch’s hand covered Brent’s as she leaned toward him.

Motherfucker. Did that asshat have a girlfriend?