Growing Up With My Mate

9th Grade I’m so nervous sitting in my first class.  I am the first one here (of course), and anticipating what high school can bring to my life.  My parents and I moved here over the summer, thanks to dad’s new job, and we are now part of the OpusMoon Pack.  Yes, that means we are werewolves.  Not to dis our last pack, but I was excited for the change.  I did have friends there, but nothing that was meant to last a lifetime.  Once my dad got accepted to the pack and told me we were moving, I couldn’t wait. There’s so much more land here, and even though we own probably the smallest house on the territory, it’s great to get outside and just being able to breathe.  Our last apartment was overcrowded and not in the best neighborhood.  The smells were awful coming from the street vendors, ….            So yes, needless to say I was excited to start anew.  The high school is on the territory and everyone here is a wolf.  It made things easier to not have to hide who we are in the human world.  As the bell rings for the 5 minute warning, kids start piling in.  I don’t know why I had a smile on, but that suddenly faulters when 3 girls walk in, see me, and smirk, like there’s some joke that I wasn’t in on.  They definitely scream money and bitchiness.  From their pastel polo tops and miniskirts, sparkling expensive jewelry,  down to their jimmy choo shoes, I can tell we are definitely not on the same page. They even have matching highlights in their hair.  I have short brown choppy hair.  They have long golden waves past their shoulders.  My skin can breathe while theirs is caked full of makeup.  I can even smell their expensive perfume from here.  The three smells combine are enough to make my wolf nose cringe.  How can they bare it? “Nice sweater,” the ringleader says to me, with and obvious fake smile.    I know it’s a jab because its huge on me, not the prettiest shade of cream, and may possibly have a few paint stains on it, but it’s my favorite and comfortable. I paired it with a pale pink shirt, faded ripped skinny jeans and my old comfy converse, I was aiming for artistic chic, “Thanks.”  She sees that I’m not going to give her anymore fuel for interrogation and sits two rows away with her posse.  Then a boy sits next to me and winks.  He’s about an inch shorter than me, with sandy blonde mop head and seems like he’s going for a ‘just rolled out of bed’ look.  Seems friendly enough..  “I'm Dustin.”  “Brighton.”  “Like brighten my day?”, he says with an amused grin. “Ha ha, yes, and as I’m sure you’re aware, not the first, nor will it be the last, time I hear that.”  We both giggle and the glam trio look our way with a sneer, then turn back again. “That’s Clara, Karma, and Coral, and I kid you not that isn’t by coincidence.  Clara is the Beta’s daughter, so she thinks she’s hot shit, and her two ragtag dolls are just as annoying.” Dustin tells me.  “You must be new.  I was born and raised here and I haven’t seen you before.”   “Moved here about a month ago.  My dad got a job at a steel factory near the border.”  “Really?! My dad works that too!  Seems like it’s fate for us to be best friends.”  He sounds completely genuine when saying this.            I smile at this because I’ve never had a best friend before.  He seems easy going enough.  Before I can reply that I would love that, the bell rings again and the teacher walks in.  She talks about the expectations of the class and the books we’ll end up reading.  I can tell from Dustin’s sigh that this is not his favorite subject.  Towards the end of class, the teacher is answering questions for anyone that has them.  “What class do you have next?”   “Biology, room 211.”  “Sweet! Me too!”  When the bell rings again, Dustin and I compare schedules and it looks like we have 3 classes together.  During biology, the teacher either didn’t care, or completely hungover, so he quickly went over the syllabus and then let the group talk.  I found out Dustin and I only lived a block from each other.  We also talked about movies we couldn’t wait to see and favorite places to eat.  After the bell rings, we wouldn’t see each other until the last period.  Dustin made the saddest pout like it was going to kill him to spend a few hours without my presence, and I just laughed at him.  Math went fine and then right before my favorite class, art, I headed to the restroom.  When I come out of the stall, Clara and the girls were reapplying their lipstick.  Each hogging a mirror, I cleared my throat so I could wash my hands.  Clara turned around and let out a low growl “Scum wait their turn for the sinks.”  Well someone was on their period. “I just need to wash my hands and then I can get out your precious way,” and I can’t help it, but the sarcastic smirk on my lips just appears.  She smiles coolly and glances at her entourage next to her, moves to the side, and gestures with her hand “By all means”.  I go to the sink and turn the water on, then the next thing I know, that bitch pours a coke all down my left side!  I’m stunned for a second too long to react because they just laugh and leave the bathroom like nothing happened.  “THAT BITCH!” I yell out.  I yank off my sweater and start running water over it.  It’s sticky and it smells.  Cloth and coke do not mix.  I hear the bell ring and I’m so angry and annoyed, that tears start to form, but I refuse to cry because of some mean girls.  I wring out my sweater and try to dry it under the hand dryer, but it does little to help.  My sweater isn’t wearable and my clothes are stained as well, but there’s nothing I can do about it now.  I gather my stuff, holding my sweater, head to class, praying the teacher is understanding.            The teacher was less than enthused with my tardiness.  There is only one seat left in the class and I was directed towards it, head down in embarrassment.  When I lift my head, my heart pitter patters for the first time.  I’ve only experienced butterflies like this when going to high on a swing.  When I sit down and the teacher starts talking, I can’t help but side glance him.  His hair is so dark it almost looks black. It’s the same shaggy style as Dustin’s, but looks way more silky.  He’s extremely tan as if he’s outside all the time. He’s wearing a simple navy blue tshirt but, man, is it fitted nicely. He doesn’t seem too interested in the class based on his body language, as if he’s bored.  Scolding myself for focusing on him instead of my favorite subject, I turn my head and start paying attention to the teacher.  Our first assignment is to create a piece representing our life in the present.  It’s extremely vague, however we can choose whatever medium we want, which was exciting for me.  I was already doodling on the syllabus when a voice next to me whispered “you know it’s due in a month, not tomorrow right?”.  I turn to see the cause of my butterflies smiling at me and I know I’m blushing.  I never blush.  I’m probably sporting a goofy grin right about now too.  His smirk is only enhanced by his honey brown eyes, which I can’t seem to stop staring at. The teacher lets the students browse around the classroom for supplies but I’m too enamored by the boy sitting next to me. “I’m Harrison by the way.”  He holds out his hand and I accept it.  The warmth that encases my hand made me sigh, but I quickly recovered.  “Brighton.” “Brighton? That’s different…… I like it.” “Thanks. I had nothing to do with it. It was all my parents”.  He smiles and gets up and gestures for me to follow so we can start looking for supplies.  He taller than me, and that’s saying something, since I’m 5’9.  He glances at my clothes, scowls, and I grimace. “I had a run in with some chihuahuas earlier, nothing to worry about.  One cycle in the wash and good as new!”  I try to play it off but he doesn’t seem to buy it.  He sees that I’m not going to tell him so we walk over to the paper selection.  As we search through the materials, we talk about classes so far.  I learned that he’s in the 10th grade and is only talking art because it was better than the music course.  While he’s looking through the papers, I see a lot of side glances from the classroom and it was starting to make me uncomfortable.  I knew I had coke spills on me, but I didn’t look that bad.  I turn to the paper rack and Harris notices I’m uncomfortable.  “I’m sorry that they’re staring at me.  You can go if you want to look at the paints, I still haven’t found what I want yet,” he says with a small smile. As sincere and nice as he said it, I was obviously confused. “Why would they be looking at you?”  He seems to be taken back for a second.  Then he smirks.  Man oh man that smirk could kill.  “I’m Harrison Blackwell, as in Steven Blackwell…... I’m the alpha’s son.