THE ONLY EXCEPTION. . .
A witch forced over the Atlantic to a small town called Forks. There she is faced with vampires, shapeshifters, high school drama, a clumsy human girl, and an incessant hotheaded shapeshifter that is somehow continuously pop...
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TRIGGER WARNING- mentions of SA, violence, cursing
AFTER SPENDING A MAJORITY OF HER LIFE IN Hawthorne's Boarding School for "Troubled Teens." One would assume Celeste would have a tight-knit circle of friends. They were wrong to assume so. No, she just had one. And in her opinion–that was all she needed. Miguel "Miggy" Hernandez. Her best friend and confidant wrapped in one. The pair were a duo, always doing everything together. Attached to the hip. Tonight was not any different. While Celeste would much rather be holed up in her dorm watching 10 Things I Hate About You (her all time favorite movie of all time). Miggy busted into her room, requesting for her help in lacrosse. Not taking no for an answer and instead rummaging through her closet to look for her gear. And that's how Celeste ended up in her current predicament. Decked in full workout gear with a helmet and a lacrosse stick in her hand. While simultaneously freezing her ass off from the cold weather.
"Christ– Miggy!' She exclaims, dodging the ball that flew towards her face. He sheepishly smiles at Celeste and shrugs his shoulders innocently.
"It was an accident! I promise," He assures her and Celeste rolls her eyes in response.
Miguel swings the lacrosse stick around, his eyes shimmering with hope and excitement. "I can feel it, Cece. This year is going to be my year. I will finally make it off the bench."
She smiles at him with hope brimming in her chest. Celeste has watched Miguel continuously tryout and get benched for the past three years. Even though he had a physical advantage of being a werewolf. Miguel was considered the "runt" of the pack, often being babied because of his soft demeanor and inability to be mean to any living soul. Yet, it never stopped him from trying to make it off the bench. Celeste admired his persistence.
"And I will be at every game to cheer you on," She replies.
He grins, jumping in his spot. "We'll finally climb the social ladder. Start getting invited to Ethan's parties–" A sound of repulsion emits from Celeste.
"Ethan's a bloody twat! I will not be attending any of his parties," Celeste retorts before a sly smile appears on her face, "You just wanna go so you have a shot at snogging Daliah."
Even from her spot, she could spot the bright red that dusted across Miguel's face. His eyes widen in alarm and he shakes his head, "Wha– no! I don't want to snog Daliah."
Celeste rolls her eyes, "Right. And I'm just in love with Ethan and his gorgeous smile." She sarcastically retorts. Miguel shakes his head before putting on his helmet, "Yeah. Yeah. Come on! No time to waste!"
‧͙⁺˚*･༓☾
IT WAS SAFE TO SAY that Celeste was utterly tired from their late night practice. She rested her head on the crook of Miguel's neck as he gave her a piggyback ride to her dorm. He claimed it was to "build his strength" and an "extra boost of cardio." But Celeste wasn't complaining! She sleepily rests her eyes, listening to Miguel's rambles of current wolf-pack drama. Occasionally, she'd give her input which usually involved the words "prick" and "fucking hell." The halls echoed with the sounds of Miguel's voice and feet padding against the ground.
