Haunted by thoughts of the strange wolf, I don't manage to fall asleep until almost four, so it's no shocker that I sleep straight through my seven o'clock alarm. Some part of me must be aware of the time though, because exactly five minutes before I'm supposed to meet with Mr Atherton, I jolt awake.
I spring out of bed immediately, grab the top sweater from my bag, toss it on over yesterday's jeans, and run into the bathroom. Pausing just long enough to drag a brush through my hair, which isn't terribly happy not to be getting a shower, I hit the door only a minute late.
Sam's coming up the stairs as I barrel down them. “There you are! I didn't realize how late it was, or I would have gotten you earlier.” She falls in behind me and follows me into the principal's office.
If he notices we're two minutes late, Mr. Atherton doesn't say anything about it, starting instead with, “Good morning, girls. Sit down.” He waves us toward two black leather seats on the opposite side of a huge mahogany desk from his winged office chair.
The desk is free of clutter, housing only a sleek black laptop and a wooden organizer with two trays and a pen holder. There are no photographs or other decorations, although the walls contain a vast assortment of pictures featuring a variety of people, none of whom seem to be related. I assume they're pictures of past students. Several of them have signatures and written messages on them, but I can't read any of the writing without getting closer.
“How are you, Michaela?”
The question brings my attention back to Mr. Atherton, who wears a gray sweater over blue jeans. I had assumed he was going for a casual look yesterday because of the flight, but apparently he just doesn't see the need to wear the business type clothes my other principals have embraced.
“Fine,” I tell him. “Maybe a little tired.”
He nods agreeably. “You'll sleep better when you get used to the place.”
Can't really sleep worse. In addition to not falling asleep at all until a few hours before I was supposed to be getting up, what sleep I did have was plagued by nightmares of being hunted down by an angry wolf. Leo had to transform into a real leopard and defend me. It was fairly messed up.
“I'm sure you still have a lot of questions about weres,” Mr Atherton continues. “But I'm thinking you're probably still processing what you've already learned, and the best thing to do today is just to go out and meet your fellow students. Are you comfortable with that?”
I take the time to think about the question before answering, “I think so.”
“Okay.” He gives me a dazzling smile. “If it gets to be overwhelming, you can go back to your room or come here, and no one will hold it against you.” He waits for me to nod my understanding. “We have a counselor who comes in during the afternoon. She'll want to talk to you. She was turned as a teen, too, and I think you'll like her. If you're not comfortable with her, you don't have to keep seeing her, but I would like you to meet her.”
Again, I nod, starting to feel myself shut down. I'll think about spilling my guts to a stranger later, but I'm not going to worry about it this morning. I'm not even going to think about not worrying about it. I'm too busy not letting my stomach tie itself in knots over the prospect of being stared at by the entire school all day.
“Samantha,” Mr. Atherton switches his attention away from me. “You're willing to show Michaela around? Make sure she can find everything and isn't too freaked out by us?”
Sam immediately responds with a cheerful, “Of course.” And we're on our way out of the office in a matter of moments.
“See you tomorrow morning,” Mr. Atherton tells me. “Same time. Unless you need me before then.”
“Yes, sir,” I answer, wondering if I should be freaked out that he's giving me so much personal attention. Sam doesn't seem to think anything of it though, so maybe he's like this with everyone.
As I close the door behind us, Sam reads over my schedule. “You have classes all over,” she tells me. “I'll just show you everything.”
With a grin, she starts her tour, waving a hand at the foyer. “This is the main entrance. Our rooms are all upstairs.” She heads away from the principal's office. “This is the Rec Hall. TV lounge, game room, and social area combined. That door goes to the parking lot, which is indoors because of all the snow. There's a student kitchen off through this other door here with snacks and a microwave.”
“Really wish I'd known that last night,” I mutter.
“Why?” She stops to look at me, her red hair swishing from the momentum shift of her halt. “What happened last night?”
“I found the big kitchen,” I tell her, swallowing awkwardly. “And someone saw me there. That's all.” Avoiding the rest of the story, I go to the student kitchen, more of a kitchenette really, and find a carton of powdered donuts sitting on the counter. I grab one and take a bite while I try to figure out where the cups that go with the coffee pot are.
Sam goes to a cupboard and pulls out two Styrofoam cups. She pours coffee into them, but holds mine just out of reach. “Who?”
I play dumb. “Who what?”
Her look is impatient, though in a friendly way. “Who found you in the kitchen?” She goes ahead and gives me the coffee before I answer, but I can tell she views my taking the cup as a pledge to spill.
“Warren.” Dumping a generous amount of the toffee-flavored creamer I find in the fridge into my cup, I wait for her to say something about that, expecting a shocked inhalation followed by commiseration.
“Why do you wish he hadn't found you?” Sam asks, her look one of quiet bewilderment.
I stare back at her. “Because he's so freaky he gave me nightmares? He scared me half to death.”
“Warren?” she asks, her nose crinkling. “The wolf? Tall guy, blond, nice muscles? Laughs a lot?”
“Well, he was blond,” I admit. “And he was certainly a wolf. But I'm not sure he even knows how to laugh.”
Studying her coffee, Sam looks thoughtful. “What exactly did he do? Because Warren's usually a pretty normal guy. Really nice. For a wolf.”
“Well...” Leaning against the counter, I go over the scene again. “Maybe I was just freaked out so bad because it was the middle of the night.”
Sam nods. “That does do strange things to people's perceptions,” she says slowly.
“The way he was staring at me though...” Shuddering, I push off and take several steps to the door. “I'm putting that back in the file of things to obsess over later.”
Sam chuckles. “I should make one of those.”
“They're useful.”
I wait for Sam to catch up outside the kitchen door and we take our coffees for a walk around the rest of the building, passing all the interior classrooms. There are only a dozen of them, a side-effect of the student body totaling a mere forty eight combined with several classes being held in outbuildings.
Done with the indoors, we walk outside into the snow. Technically, the door leads onto a stoop, but only the top step is visible. Since I don't know how high the stairs are, I have no idea how deep the snow must be. I do know it's all packed though, which is why I only sink a couple of inches when I step out. I want to ask about that, but before I get a chance we're greeted by a pack of very vocal huskies. They scamper eagerly around, sniffing me and giving playful barks of welcome. They're remarkably comfortable with being around people who smell like predators, making me wonder what my scent is like for them.
“They're pretty smart,” Sam tells me. “They know none of us are going to hurt them in human form, so they get along even with the scarier species. Except during the moon. They hide then.”
During the moon... That seems to be the common way of talking about the nights the moon is full. I can see why the dogs wouldn't want to be around wolves or bears. And I can see why the foxes wouldn't want to be around them.
“Do the different weres separate during the moon?”
She laughs. “Yes, we do. Especially those of us who are younger. Older weres have more control over themselves in animal form, but we still tend to stay with our kind. Just in case, you know.”
Yeah. Bryce could snap Sam in half in human form easily enough, but in bear form a fox would be less than a mouthful. And Warren... He's scary enough human.
“By the way, feeding and cleaning up after these guys are on the list of chores.”
“List of chores?” I ask, wondering why I would want to volunteer to bag canine poop.
Sam gives the closest dog an extra scratch behind the ears before waving me toward a nearby building and answering. “You're probably safe for now, but eventually you'll have to sign up for an hour a day of maintenance. I usually work with the dogs or in the rink, but there are plenty of things to do inside the main building. Like cleaning the fridge and vacuuming.”
“But we get to decide what we do?” I ask.
“If it's open when you get to sign up, which is on the first day after the moon.”
Okay. So with luck no one will bother me with that for another three weeks.
My guide stops outside a barn. It's large, and its wood is painted a dull gray that makes it look older than its condition would suggest. “And this is my favorite place here.”
Swinging a side door open, she leads me into darkness. A light flickers on revealing a full-sized ice rink surrounded by bleachers.
“Year-round ice.” She grins and goes quickly to a locker room. “You skate?”
I shrug, wondering once again how much they were charging Dad to send me here. “I can skate.”
“Figure or hockey?”
“Um...” Blinking, I try to figure out what she means. “Neither? Recreational.”
She opens a locker and takes out two pairs of pink ice skates, which she holds up so I can see them clearly. “Figure skates.” She indicates one. “Hockey skates.” She indicates the other. “I've also thought about getting some speed skates. I'm really not very good at racing, but maybe I'd get better if I had the right skates, you know?”
“Sure.” Up until this second, I had no idea there was more than one type of ice skate. The people at the rental desk had never asked what style of skate I wanted, just what size.
Sam glances at her watch. “They start serving lunch in ten minutes though, so I guess we should go back in.” With a slight sigh, she puts the skates back in her locker and closes the door. There's no lock on it. There aren't any locks on the outside of our rooms either.
“Why isn't anything locked?” I ask.
Laughing, the fox shakes her head. “Why would they be? No one here would steal.”
My eyebrows go up. “That seems very trusting.”
Sam snorts. “We're not fully human, Mike. A lot of us would kill someone who tried to rob us. Possessions are sacred.”
“Oh.” That's... good to know. I guess. Not that I was planning on stealing anything.
There's a tendril of emotion trying to get my attention, wanting me to panic about the fact I am now part of a society where theft can be punished by murder without anyone getting upset about it. I refuse to give into it, focusing instead on getting to the dining room, which Sam lets me find without help.
There's a line there already, full of people who take a break from glancing from the serving counter to their phones and back again to look at me. They have features from a variety of ethnicities, although their hair tends toward reds and blonds. In an attempt to encourage them to stop looking at me, I send my own gaze to the floor.
“They're just curious,” Sam tells me. “We haven't had a new student other than freshmen in two years.”
“Really?” I ask, looking up to squint at her. “Two years?”
How am I supposed to break into that?
“Lots of people are really jealous of me,” Sam says, then laughs at my expression. “Your novelty makes you the center of attention. And I am the person everyone is going to be asking about you.”
“Sam?” someone asks, as if fulfilling Sam's prophecy.
The girl is about my height, but willowy thin. Her hair is nearly as long as Samantha is tall and is a pure, snowy white. Her eyes are huge, expressive, and... pink?
“Hey, girl!” Sam grins at her. “Mike, this Aliah.”
I don't have to be told Aliah is a fox, even though she lacks the vivacity Sam has me expecting from the species. The information of one's beast really does seem to be carried on scent. It's hard to put into words how it works, though, any more than one could easily explain how one knows a chocolate chip cookie from smell. One can get into how it smells sweet and like something with flour in it, but when push comes to shove, the thing just smells like a cookie.
“Hi, Mike?” the new fox questions. “Welcome to North Sky?”
Um... “Thanks? It's nice to meet you.”
She beams at me, her pale skin lighting up. It's almost as if she expected me to insult her or something instead of saying hello.
“Aliah's in my class,” Sam tells me. “And her sister, Alysia's a year ahead of you.” Her tone is colder when she speaks of the older girl.
“Aliah and Alysia, huh?” I shake my head. Their parents probably thought they were being cute using such similar names. At least the sisters aren't twins.
“Mom swears she never noticed the alliteration?” Aliah tries as the line finally starts to move.
Chuckling, Sam shakes her head. “Maybe it's because she thinks of Alysia as 'That Bitch' the way I do.”
“I don't think so?” Aliah whispers, sticking with her streak of making questions out of statements.
“She should,” Sam contests. “Honestly, I have no idea what my brother sees in her.” She looks at me. “They sort of have a thing. I can only hope the insanity isn't genetic.”
Nodding, I think of my mother's fiancé. I can relate to the sentiment.
“Everyone calls her Lyly?” Aliah whispers. “So it's really not confusing?”
We shuffle forward. There doesn't seem to be a menu posted. Maybe there are too few of us for there to be any choices?
“Cooked or raw, dear?”
“What?” I stare at the lady behind the counter. I can't smell what she is because the odor of grilled beef is too strong, but my hunch is bear. She has the same facial structure and pale blond hair as Bryce, although she is much more petite and her skin is a deep ebony.
“Your meat, sweetie.” Her smile is kind. “Do you want it cooked or not?”
Uh... Okay... Not the sort of choice I was expecting to make. “Yes, please?”
The lunch lady, who I will take this opportunity to note is a lot prettier than the lunch ladies I am used to, shrugs as she starts to load a plate. “I have to ask the new students. Most people do like it cooked, but there are a few who just can't stand it.”
Trying not to look appalled at this information, I nod and take the plate she holds out to me – potatoes, carrots, and a huge slab of steak, cooked. The steak's not very cooked to judge by the little pool of blood that sloshes around the plate as I move it, but my stomach rumbles anyway.
When I first started craving extremely rare meat, I thought something was seriously wrong with me. But this was before I lived in a world in which saying, “Actually, I would like my steak raw, please,” happens often enough people ask beforehand if you want it that way.
I wonder if the raw meat crowd eats the carrots or not, and if theirs are steamed like mine are.
Bryce the Polar Bear waves me over towards him when I look up from the meal, his motions big, as if he's worried I'm somehow not going to notice a mountain trying to get my attention. Grabbing a jug of chocolate milk from the beverage fridge, I start towards him, glancing to make sure Sam and Aliah are coming this way too.
There's another guy across the table from Bryce. He doesn't seem to notice my arrival, being too absorbed in his tablet. Judging from the bright red hair, I am guessing this is Sam's brother, a senior by the name of Tod. Sam told me last night that it's a family name always given to the oldest male in the generation, but she looked confused when I asked her why her name wasn't Vixen.
Aliah and I sit on either side of Tod, leaving the seat by Bryce free for Samantha. Giving me a shy smile, she takes it. Instead of talking to Bryce though, she directs her first words to her brother.
“Tod, stop staring at that stupid machine and say hello to Mike.”
“Hello to Mike.” He doesn't even glance at me.
“Lyly just broke up with him again,” Bryce says softly, apologetic for his friend's behavior.
“Oh, is that all?” Sam sounds bored.
“It's nearly two weeks early.” Tod doesn't sound heartbroken, merely confused. He glances at me finally, doing a mild double take but then going back to his display. “She wasn't supposed to break up with me until the Saturday after next.”
“She has a schedule,” Sam tells me with an eye roll. “He's programmed it into that thing so he can better predict her behavior.”
“Seriously?”
That is so messed up.
“Yes.” Sam cuts a bite of her meat, chewing it while I turn to stare at her brother's profile. Why on earth would anyone put up with being dumped on schedule?
“I might know what it is?” Aliah whispers, sitting up suddenly, unbalancing her soda in the process. Sam grabs it before it can tip all the way over and Aliah smiles gratefully. “Remember prom last year?”
This school has a prom? I would have thought it was too small. Even assuming it's all grades, I don't know how they manage.
Tod scowls at his tablet. “Yes.”
“Oh!” Sam claps. “You're right!”
Looking between the two, Tod makes an impatient gesture.
“She stayed with you an extra week so you'd be together for prom?” Aliah prompts.
How sweet of her.
Tod spreads a hand in confusion. “And you think she's making up for it now?”
“No.” The albino shakes her head. “But it indicates she'll change the schedule for special events, doesn't it?”
“Oh, right!” Smiling suddenly, Tod turns off the tablet, puts it down, and grabs a huge bite of potato.
“There's a dance right after the next moon,” Sam fills me in. “If she stayed with the schedule, they'd be in the middle of their breakup for it. Then she'd have to go to the trouble of making someone else take her.”
“Oh.” I use my steak as an excuse not to say anything else because I really don't know what to say to that.
“So, how's your first day?” Bryce asks me.
Shrugging, I swallow my food and tell him, “Just got the tour so far.”
“Is it a lot different from your old school?”
I laugh, then take a drink before answering him. “You could say that. Some of my classes back home had more people in them than this whole school. And we definitely didn't have our own ice rink.” I add the second part quickly, lest they think I was complaining about the school's size.
“You probably had a football team though,” Tod guesses, much more attentive since the mystery of his girlfriend's abandonment has been solved.
“Yeah, we did.” I shrug. “I prefer the NFL though.”
Tod smiles. “Well, you had the Seahawks then.”
I'm going to respond to that, but a series of chills down my back makes me start to shiver. Thoroughly distracted by the sensation, I look around, finding the source of my unease sitting near the windows.
Warren is there, alone. His eyes are on me, cold and hostile.
When he sees me looking, his eyes narrow for several seconds before he looks away. Staring now at the plate before him, he cuts a piece of meat.
It would seem Warren belongs to the raw camp.
I shiver again.
“What's wrong?” Bryce asks.
“Nothing.”
“He really is staring at you.” Sam raises her eyebrow towards Warren. “Are you sure you don't know him from somewhere else or something?”
I glance back toward him, watching as a drop of blood falls from the huge chunk of flesh on his fork. “Positive.” My head snaps back as he starts to look up again.
“Who are we talking about?” Bryce asks, squinting.
“Warren,” Sam answers thoughtfully.
Tod makes an interested noise. “He's been moody all day. I thought he and Seth were going to get into a serious fight in class.”
“They're always fighting,” Sam dismisses.
“Yeah, but usually it's play fighting. This would have been the serious throat ripping sort of fighting.”
“So what's wrong with him then?” I ask. “Does he just hate me that much?”
“Why would he hate you?” Tod gapes at me in astonishment.
I fill the others in on what happened last night. “Weird,” Tod echoes his sister's sentiment. “And he's still staring at you. Extremely weird. Even for a wolf.”
Well, that's just great. I'm weird enough to turn normal people into freaks. Go me.