Vargulf Bitten

Chapter Three: Judgment

Everything felt different, like waking up with new eyes and ears. The world was so much brighter somehow and louder. I tried my best to ignore it as I walked into Hemlock Grove High School for the first time since Lisa's death. All eyes were on me and I could almost taste the different feelings that hung in the air. Some eyes were accusing and angry. Some eyes were full of pity. All of them judging me regardless. I could even hear the whispers exchanged between everyone. The surprised hushed tones and the cruel words. My wounds were proof enough that I was merely a victim, but no one wanted to believe that anymore. Not when I had gotten out alive and Lisa hadn't.

"Hey." A rough hand landed on my lower back and I looked up and behind me slightly. It was Peter and his appearance had only made things worse as the hushed whispers buzzed in my ears like an angry bee. The look on his face told me that he understood what I was going through, probably could hear just as well as I could in the moment. We hadn't talked since the morning after Lisa died. Part of me hadn't wanted to talk to him. I wanted to trust him because I knew now that he was pretty much my only hope if I was going to survive this change, but I didn't. I didn't trust him for a single second. His close proximity made his scent overwhelm me. What once would probably have smelt like leather and weed was now a whole forest. He smelt musky...earthy, but in a way that felt so familiar to me somehow.

"Hi." My voice was low as I ducked my head away. I realized he was directing me away from all of the people gossiping. He pushed open one of the doors, leading to an empty stair case. He moved to sit down a few stairs down and I just stood at the top of them, staring at him. My bag hung off my good shoulder, but the weight of it suddenly felt like a dead body. Peter pulled out what looked like was a joint and a lighter, putting it between his mouth before he lit it, smoke rising as he did so. He looked up at me then, brows furrowed in question before holding out the joint to me. I wasn't a smoker though.

"Don't just stand there. This will take the edge off, I promise. No vomiting this time." He blew the smoke from his mouth, hand still out for me to take the joint. I dropped my bag on the stairs and walked down to him, taking the joint and putting it between my lips. I could taste remains of his toothpaste on it before I inhaled. I passed it back to him and buried my face in my hands. Of course, a bit of a coughing fit started up after a moment, the smoke surrounding us both. The space between us wasn't that large and I wasn't sure how to feel about that.

"Why are you being nice to me? Before all this bull shit, you didn't even acknowledge me." I questioned him then after a long silence. He took a thoughtful drag and nodded, agreeing with my statement seemingly. He offered me the joint again, but I refused it this time. He gave a shrug as if to say 'Oh well! More for me!" before taking another drag. I knew he was trying to think of a good answer. It was like I could hear the gears turning in his head -- even behind all that hair that was on it. He snuffed out the joint on the wall and put it back in his bag before fully turning his body to me. His deep blue eyes locked onto my brown ones.

"Because in some...ridiculously fucked up turn of events, we're like...family." Peter said, making a face as if regretting the words almost immediately, "Pack mates." I pressed my back against the wall as he said the word. I couldn't help but cast my gaze away from him. I hadn't asked for this and even though I had thrown up the wolfsbane, there was no guarantee that I was going to make it out of this alive. It seemed he could read my thoughts, or at least my expression as he put a hand on my shoulder as if to comfort. The sound of the bell ringing behind the door and throughout the school made us both jump. A few curses in a foreign language leaving Peter's mouth then. I got up and grabbed my bag, pushing the door open. He was still sitting, perhaps a bit surprised at how fast I had moved suddenly.

"Bye, Peter." I mumbled before turning away, heading off to class, even if the dread I felt about it was following me around like a rain cloud. My first class of the day was Chemistry. Ironically, it was also my absolute worst subject. On top of that, there was no Lisa to be my lab partner, so I had no idea how today was going to turn. I took a seat at my usual spot and seemingly so did everybody else. I threw my bag on top of the lab table, sighing a bit to myself. The teacher glanced over at me for a second before quickly looking away. Great.

"Is this seat taken?" I glanced up at the tall figure beside me, blinking in surprise when I saw who it was. Roman. He didn't give me time to answer. Instead, he sat down on the stool beside me. He seemed awkward and out of place, long legs hanging out to the other side of the table practically. He seemed too big for his environment, while I felt too small. My legs dangled from the stool like a child in a "big kid" seat or something of the sort.

"Guess it is now." I mumbled and I hoped that he wouldn't say anything further to me, but of course we didn't always get what we wanted. He leaned closer to me, as if he was about to say something very secretive. I could hear everyone else in class mumbling about it -- about us. Everything connected back to Peter though. How that dumb freshman girl was telling everyone that he was a werewolf and telling everyone that he was the one killing the girls. Now I knew that at least the first half was true, but I wanted to believe the second wasn't, but if it wasn't him then who was it? Who was the vargulf, the sick wolf who had bitten me?

"Is it true?" Roman asked, a dumbfounded look was plastered on his face, eyebrows raised and full pink lips parted in absolute wonder, "Is the bite really making you...turn?" I found myself shifting closer to the wall, my good shoulder pressing against the brick. He'd been too close for comfort and I knew he was just trying to ask the question without any onlookers hearing, but I felt uncomfortable in my own skin. It was a feeling that was unfamiliar to me. It was like, I could just claw into my skin, rip off my skin like shreds of a dress and become...and become what?

"Dunno." I shrugged then, glancing up as the teacher opened up a powerpoint. I focused on the lines of the paper on my notebook that I had pulled out whilst he talked, but I could feel Roman's gaze heavy on me. I guessed he wasn't satisfied by the answer, but I didn't know what else to tell him. He must have talked to Peter about it within the last few days considering he'd been practically kicked out before they even had told me what was going on. I wasn't even sure why he even cared or why he was deciding to go out of his way to talk to me. Roman didn't even have the pathetic excuse that Peter had given me. Family. Pack mates.

"I'm sorry." Roman swallowed thickly, his Adam's apple bobbing as he did so, "About your friend. About what you're going through. It's just I-"

"Roman Godfrey, is there a reason you're talking during my lesson?" The teacher cut him off, his Godfrey green hues casting up at her like a sad puppy. I even watched as he lower lip jutted out ever so slightly -- not enough to be noticeable to anyone who wasn't staring.

"Sorry, Ma'am. Won't happen again." Roman replied, staring her down for a moment before she finally just gave up and went back to her presentation. One of his large hands moved to my notebook though he didn't look at me as he did it. He pulled it into the space between our elbows before scribbling something on the corner of my notes.

Meet me at my car during lunch.

He didn't say anything to me the rest of the class.