Becoming Descendants

Chapter 1

Evie's POV

Someone once told me that the way to stay true is to surround yourself with good people. But first, I had to go back to school.

It's hard to keep the vampire in check. But if I'm going to try and lead a normal life, then I have to toe the line. Take school seriously for once and get some qualifications.

I'm not chucking these brains away on a call centre. Besides, how difficult can it be? I may be forty six, but I'm trapped in the body of a fifteen year old. What I don't know about being a teenager isn't worth knowing.

The bell rings as I walk into class. I'm in sixth-form, so no one's in uniform. At the front of the classroom sits a middle-aged man, looking pissed off and smelling faintly of alcohol. He's hung over! Why is he still allowed to teach?

I walk past him and down the rows of desks. A brunette in a baby pink and sky blue dress glares at me and whispers "Goth bitch" to the girl next to her, who giggles. Honey, if you hate my gothic beauty, then don't jump on the band wagon when it becomes popular.

The only available seat is at the back, next to a purple-haired girl with emerald green eyes, a buff kid with long hair, and a small boy with his hair dyed white. I stop.

Most humans have a metallic smell and a heart beat. The girl has a normal heartbeat but smells of chlorine (a sign of Magic). The buff kid has a quicker heart rate and a wet dog smell (a sign of wolf blood). The small boy has no heart rate at all and has no smell.

Reluctantly I sit down and take out my notebook. I can feel the eyes of the purple haired girl glare holes into my side and if I wasn't dead, I would probably be blushing under my... well, blusher. I ignore the glare and focus on the classroom.

Not much has changed since the eighties, except for a few differences. There is a white plastic board on the wall instead of a chalkboard, and there's no cane on the teacher's desk. Another addition is of what appears to be a larger version of a computer screen next to the white plastic board. It's a step up from the projectors, to be honest.

The teacher, Mr Deley, goes through the register, and I find out that the magic user is called Mal and the werewolf is called Jay. Mr Deley reaches Carlos's name and the white-haired boy answers, but the teacher doesn't take it into account. I furrow my eyebrows in confusion, and so does Mal.

The entire chemistry lesson is theory, and throughout the hour Carlos answers every single question correctly but is completely ignored. By the fifth question he throws a scrunched up paper and it hits Mr Deley on the head.

"Right, which of you three on the back row threw it?" he huffs. No one answers. "Well? If no one tells me, you're all in detention."

He can't do that! Collective punishment is a war crime! But I don't want to anger him further, so I remain silent, as do the other two.

"Very well. The three of you, detention after school with Mr Radcliffe."

As soon as he turns back to the white board, the three of us give him the middle finger. "That earns you a whole week of detention!" he yells without even needing to turn around. Shit.

Jay POV

Who was that new girl, anyway? The way she looked at us, it's like she knew. But that's impossible. Then again, what's possible and what's impossible is up for review right now.

It's a bad dream, that's all. Any minute now I'll wake up and there won't be any scars and I'll be into relationships and tourney and bullshit again. And as if I didn't have enough to deal with, I'm now being stalked by a kid whose colour scheme makes him look like a bloody skunk. Have I developed a designated creep, is that what happens here?