Beauty and the Rejection

Chapter Six

I try to get through the class without thinking of those around me and the thoughts they may conjure. I distract myself by forcing myself to listen to the teacher as he talks about the first unit of the semester: novels. Particularly the novel of Frankenstein.

I don't know much about Frankenstein or the premise of the story and I don't think I ever will when Mr. Zemini corrects the fact that Frankenstein is the name of the creator; not the monster himself. If I didn't find it important then, I don't think I will now.

If I could drop out of the course I would but like every senior before, this last is a prerequisite in graduating in the spring. My only hope is that I can pass this class without having to read the book.

When the bell rings to indicate the end of class, I shoot out of my seat and begin walking out the door before Mr. Zemini can finish talking.

I'm out the door and heading to my next class. However to my dismay, I'm stopped by a soft toned voice that could only belong to the second other person that has placed me into this miserable situation of mine.

"Kalen!" I hear her behind me. I try to lose her in the sea of people, my tall frame not being able to slip past as easily as her short, slender one and before I can pass into the next corridor, she's beside me with a less than satisfied look.

With her honey brown hair, a little disheveled, she stands before me with her hands at her hips, attempting to remain in a posture that does not expose how out-of-breath she really was. With my heightened hearing, I can her the uneven in take of breath. No doubt she's tired from trying to catch up to me.

She stands more than a couple inches below me, my chin grazing just below her eyebrows if we were standing close enough. The faint smell of shea butter wafts towards me as she makes her abrupt stop in front of me.

Did she always smell this nice?

I make eye contact with her plain brown eyes and unlike last time, she doesn't flinch at the sight of me. In replace of the shock she displayed last time is kind, gentle eyes that are very welcoming. That doesn't stop me from trying to scare her away though.

I give her a hard look. My eyes narrowed and a frown crossing my lips. I attempt to portray a mix of boredom and annoyance as I scan her face for a brief moment, my eyes quickly returning to hers before she can make anything of it.

She doesn't look into my eyes for long, maybe because I'm still a future alpha or maybe it's because I'm intimidating her. Good. Exactly how I want it.

However, even with my best attempts to not search, I couldn't help look for any hint of recognition in that short amount of time.
A quick flash was all I needed to know if she recognized me. To see who I really was beneath the hooded tattoos and cloaked magic.

If she just looked into my eyes for just a moment. A long moment, she would recognize the person standing in front of her.

But to my disappointment none of which I secretly prayed would happen, happened. Instead she stuck out her hand and began talking like there was no tomorrow.

"I'm sorry to chase you like that," Laya began, looking around at her surroundings. Students passed us along the hall, many with prying eyes as we blocked the middle of the wide hallway. They maneuvered their way around us as they whispered at the whatever nonsense that came out of their mouths.

"I just- I guess I'm assigned to show you around..." she hesitates, clearly waiting for any response from me. I keep my face impassive, waiting for her to continue whatever she initially wanted to tell me. She obviously hadn't chased me for nothing.

She gives a slight nod of her head, understanding that I'm not going to talk, "I saw you talking to Austin Melgren earlier today. I know you didn't really get a say in who you got to show you around and I just wanted to let you know that if Austin was your preferred choice then I would talk with Ms. Mendes, the lady at the office we saw earlier today, and she can get it all set up. Honestly I don't know why they didn't choose Austin in the first pla-"

I cut off her excessive rambling, "Is that what you want?"

She jumps a little at the sudden interruption, "What?"

"You want to get rid of me by passing me along to the beta?" I angrily ask. I'm more hurt that the first thing she brings up is that I'm allowed to switch showing-buddies as an excuse to get rid of me.

"No. No, that's not what I meant," she explains. "You and Austin seem close from what I saw this morning and I just thought you'd want a familiar face to show you around."

"Another excuse," is all I manage to say. The rising anger for all that has happened to me in the last few days comes back but in full force, one problem piling on top of another. A mixture of past fury and developing frustration mix together into one ball of flames burning inside of me. Devouring every inch of my being until all I know - all I feel is the consuming fire of hatred.

The knowledge of the one person I've tormented is tormenting me back is like fuel - adding to the destructive flame inside of me. The flames I had tried all morning to extinguish. She's mocking me without even realizing it. Not even wanting to be in my close proximity.

If that's what she wants, fine that's what she'll get. I walk away from her, slipping into the now racing students trying to get to their next class before the bell rings. If I don't walk away now and get away from the her tantilazing angelic face I'll combust and I wouldn't be sure how much control I'd have over myself or the words that would spew out of my lips.

The last thing I needed was to make a scene.

I hear her try to catch up with me, "I'm sorry if I gave you that impression." She paces with my long strides beside me now. "Those weren't my intentions and I was truly being honest about what I said about Austin and switching."

Laya sprints a couple steps before stopping in front of me, forcing myself to halt in my steps or slam right into her. I wonder if we did touch, would the sparks still be there? I'm almost tempted to test it out with her tired face in front of me.

"If you decide that you do need help. And not from Austin," she pulls out the notebook she was holding this entire time and begins scribbling something on the piece of paper before ripping the corner. "You can text me at this number. Or call. Whichever you prefer."

I reluctantly take the small piece of paper and see a bubbly fonted numbers. She gives me a small smile before heading off into the other direction in which I presume is her next class.