The Werewolf In My English Class

My feet moved under me as I walked to school, and boy was it a long walk. 3 miles. I didn’t know why I did it every morning but I did. My mother bought me a car so I could drive myself, but I rather walked. So I let my feet guide me like they knew where to go better than I did, as I hummed one of my favorite songs. My high top dark red converse slapping on the ground as I went. My red hair got blown into my eyes by the wind and I tucked it behind my ear. I pulled my jacket a bit tighter around me to protect myself against the chilly morning breeze.

The way to school was long and lonely, which made it easier to get used to the place I’m going, I’m always alone at school.I liked to watch people, and I wanted to be a part of their lives but when they talked to me I was too shy to say anything. So after about a year I gave up, that was two years ago, now I was in junior year at the age of 16 going on 17 in a few weeks.

The great thing about my school was that wasn’t bullied, there were people who were being bullied but for some reason they never came near me. it’s something I was thankful for every thanksgiving. But thanksgiving has passed and Christmas was on the way, it was now the 16th of December and I was still walking to school.

After my regular hour long walk to school I stepped into the reasonably warm building and headed towards my locker. I browsed through the mass of paper and books until I found my history and literature books. I looked into the mirror the previous owner of the locker had left behind. My red curly hair that reached just past my shoulders was everywhere because of the wind and my blue eyes looked a little dull. The freckles on my face were light and they matched my pale skin. I grabbed my simple black spectacles from my bag and put them on to see better. I didn’t look all that bad, but not great either. I heard a locker being opened next to mine and I didn’t have to look to know the jock of our school  standing next to me.

“Hey,” He said as he glanced at me. I froze. He never spoke to me, he never looked at me either. well we used to be friends, in kindergarten, but that was 12 years ago, why was he talking to me now? I hadn’t talked to him in 11 years. Kind of strange to change that now. I regained conscience and realized he must have been speaking to someone else. I turned back to my locker and didn’t pay any more attention to him.

“Jenn?” He asked. Oh, he was in fact talking to me, I was surprised he still knew my name. I stared at him in shock.

“Still not speaking?” He asked with a small smile. I felt my throat close, why was he even speaking to me? this was too confusing. I tore my eyes away from him grabbed my stuff and smashed my locker shut before running to my classroom. What on earth was going on?

“Jenn, wait I’m sorry I didn’t mean to scare you.” I heard him come closer, darn jocks always so fast! “Damn you’re fast for a girl!” I could hear him gasping for air. I stopped and stared at him.

“Thank goodness.” He said and rested his hand on his knees and started gasping for air. He also started talking but since he wasn’t looking at me I continued my way to my classroom. I didn’t want to hear what he had to say. No one talked to me, that was just the way it was. And if a jock started talking to me, all types of nasty girls would come after me and my peaceful high school life would be over.

“Jenn?” I heard him behind me once again so I fastened my pace and made good use of the crowd around me and my power to blend in to hide from him. and that was when it hit me like a bullet, he had history with me first period and literature in the second. I groaned. I didn’t like this. I walked into the classroom and sat down in my usual seat, next to the wall as far away from the windows as I could get and completely in the back. That way I could make sure I could see everyone. The teacher was already sitting at his desk and greeted me. I gave him a slight nod and he smiled. I liked this teacher, he was the funny type of teacher that could make every subject interesting, I chose history because I liked him so much. I sat down in my chair and re-read my homework to see if I had made any mistakes. I found two. I changed them and was content.