A/N: Hi guys! So, I've been reading some stories lately about werewolves, and I just fell in love with the idea of writing a story like this. And this is what I came up with... yeaaaah... just don't judge me too hard if it sucks, okay? mmkay. <3 Also, please leave feedback below! It helps me improve!
“If you judge people, you have no time to love them.” – Mother Teresa
Elijah Williams
I pulled my knees up to my chest and bit my bottom lip, watching the trees flash by. Their presence was somewhat new to me, as Florida wasn’t exactly known for its forests, and I looked on in amazement as the colors blended into one. They were just starting to turn colors, making them brown, yellow, orange, and red. Fall had just arrived. The pink and purple flowers that carpeted the grass on the side of the road had just bloomed and they morphed into a sea of vibrancy. I tugged my legs closer and rested my chin on my kneecaps, unable to ignore the butterflies in my stomach.
“Don’t be nervous, Eli, you’ll do great,” my big brother, Tyler, said from the driver’s seat as he turned into a parking lot. Tyler had graduated college about three years ago, and had moved here, to Shady Grove, North Carolina, which was now apparently my permanent residence. “I’ll be at work until about seven tonight, but there’s frozen pizza in the fridge, take-out menus in the drawer by the stove, and my credit card is in the bowl on the coffee table. Please don’t burn the house down.” He said it playfully, though I wouldn’t put it past myself to do so, and he was obviously aiming for me to joke back and hopefully lighten the mood. But I couldn’t bring myself to do it and just nodded, the nerves completely taking over and making my body shake. I looked up at the school building, reading the letters above the archway: Four Seasons High School. The school I’d be attending for my senior year, as a completely new student.
Ever since I was about five and had been left at my school for four hours after the final bell had rung, I’d known my mother wouldn’t be winning any parenting awards. Through the years as I’d grown up and noticed that my friends didn’t have their older brother raise them, and that they didn’t have to make their own dinners every night, it clicked that she wouldn’t ever really be a mother to me. My father had died in a bad car accident when I was three, Tyler was seven, and though I really wish I could, I didn’t remember anything about him. Tyler said that after our father died, our mom just started to disregard any jobs or tasks she had to do, and focused more on finding men to have sex with. So over the summer when I’d gotten a note one morning that she’d married a man she met in Vegas and was running away with him, I wasn’t surprised. Tyler had come to pick me up and now here I was.
Tyler waved and drove out of the parking lot and I watched his car until it disappeared down the road, leaving me to walk into the school alone. What if I had gotten mobbed? Or what if a serial rapist had jumped out of the bushes and had his way with me? Granted they were extremely unlikely circumstances, but he could’ve made sure I got into school okay. I’m surprised I made it to the ripe old age of 17 when I had the likes of him watching over me.
I pushed open the double doors and surveyed the hallway, which was completely empty. Well, I did just get dropped off at 9:45, apparently the designated time for new students. Why I couldn’t just come with the rest of the students at 8 so I might have at least a little bit of a chance to fit in, I’ll never know. I jumped from colored tile to colored tile and followed the signs on the walls toward the main office. When I got there, a plump woman with a beehive up-do on top of her head beamed at me. Some people should just not wear the color coral.
“Hello dearie, what’s your name?” She asked, her voice laced with forced enthusiasm. I glanced at her name tag which read: Diamond Jean. Ouch, I’d be forcing enthusiasm too, Denim Lady.
