I walked into my first class for the day, which was applied mathematics. Math has never been, nor will be, my strong point. If anything, that would be literature. The class passed slowly and all we were doing was going over review.
At last, when the professor dismissed us, I walked out. Next I had English lit class and I was actually excited for this one. I went and sat in the back row. Luckily, as a werewolf, my hearing and eyesight was excellent.
Right after I sat down, there was a crowd of girls around the doorway. I couldn't tell what they were looking at, but I didn't really care anyways. I wasn't one for gossip and drama. I pulled out my spiral notebook for notes and searched my back for a pencil. Suddenly, the hairs on my arm stood up and I instantly shot up straight in my seat and examined the room.
I saw a guy staring straight at me and our eyes locked. His intense stare was eerily familiar and I had to stop myself from jumping out of my seat. Once I pulled my gaze away from his was when I realized that the cluster of girls was surrounding him. Then I took a moment to take in his features and I could now see why they were all drawn to him.
His jet black hair contrasted strongly with his unusual pale eyes. His tanned skin seemed to glow and he was well built, his muscles rippled through his thin Henley that stretched over his broad chest like a second skin. I couldn't see much else of his torso since it was covered by a dark brown leather jacket. There was a chain attached to one of his dark Jean belt loops and the other end disappeared inside of his pocket, which I assume is holding a wallet on the other end.
When my eyes traveled up to his face, he was still staring at me with slightly narrowed eyes and he looked as though he were brooding over something. I felt my face heat up to be caught staring back and turned my attention back to the front of the room. Seconds later, the professor walked in and asked everyone to take their seats.
The guy from a second ago sat in the dead center of the classroom. Girls were surrounding him on all sides, some taking glances at him and others just flat out staring. I wanted to roll my eyes but if I judged those girls for doing the exact same thing that I was, it would make me seem like a hypocrite.
I was so excited about this class, but ever since he walked in, I couldn't take my eyes off of him. He was strangely alluring and his scent was intoxicating. I could smell it from here. It was vaguely familiar, but like his weird eyes, I couldn't place my finger on it. Something about him was drawing me to him, but part of me wanted nothing to do with him. He had a look about him that said he was dangerous.
Finally, this class ended. Next I had a free period and I had already decided what to do with it. I packed up my bags and went to leave, but when I turned to scan the room once more, his intense gaze was on me again. I let out what seemed like a gasp, but I wasn't quite sure, and then I turned and scurried out of the classroom.
My heart was beating frantically in my chest and it felt like exotic birds were flapping their wings inside their stomach of a cage, aching to be set free. Once I got my bearings, I went to the library.
Mrs. Pitcher, the librarian, was already familiar with me. I had come here a multitude of times and she understood my love for books. She gave me a warm smile from the front desk when I walked in and I politely returned it.
I set my bags down in my usual study room. The college's library had several private study rooms with doors that you could close, but of course there were no locks. I usually reserved the one in the very back for myself and I was happy to see that it was still unattended.
I walked back out of the study room and searched for the book I was looking for. Finally, I found it in the reference section. I pulled out the big book and dusted off the cover to examine it.
Lycanthropes: The supernatural
I had seen this book before but I had taken no note of it until now. I took the book and walked back to the study room, flipping through the pages just to glance at what I'd be reading. When I shut the door, the hairs on my arm stood up immediately. My head snapped up and there he was, in my chair.
"So you like the supernatural, huh?" His deep voice sounded so… smooth, yet deep and sexy, like velvet. I was rendered speechless at the atmosphere in the room and the intensity of his cloudy gaze. That's the only way I could describe his eye color. It was the color of clouds on a sunny day, yet they weren't murky. It was like you could see straight into them. It was mesmerizing.
I hadn't really registered his question until he lifted his perfectly arched eyebrow. I sucked in a short breath and broke out of my trance. "Um… what?" A small smirk threatened to tug at his lips but he held it at bay.
"I said, do. You. Like. The. Supernatural?" He spoke slowly, as if I was mentally retarded. This angered me because it made him seem as though he thought I were too incompetent to understand the English language in which he was clearly speaking. I growled in irritation, but quickly realized my mistake. This guy was human. Or at least, he smelled human, but I don't think any human could manage to look that gorgeous.
"Yes," I finally answered, breaking away from my ridiculous reverie. "I am interested in the supernatural, I guess."
His eyes flashed down to my book and then back up to me. Both of his eyebrows raised in question this time. "Lycanthropes?" I hesitantly nodded, feeling defensive.
Finally, I asked the important question. "Do you work out," I blurted. Crap! Those were not the words I had intended at all. I mentally smacked myself. Squeezing my eyes closed, I could feel the heat flood my cheeks. Good going Shyanne! Phenomenal!
"I'm sorry," I said softly. "I didn't mean to ask that. At all. I meant to ask what you were doing here, but I don't think it really matters now, but at the same time it kind of does. I also want you to leave, so that I can drown in my own mortification… I didn't mean to say that either. I have no idea what I'm doing and I am so sorry. I just ramble when I'm nervous, but I don't usually talk this much and-"
I was cut off by a sudden pressure to my lips and my eyes flashed open. E was suddenly there, his eyes open as he looked at me. I stood stiffly, stunned. His lips weren't moving and neither were mine but once he was sure that I had stopped talking, he pulled away. I had to remind myself to breathe when I began to feel lightheaded.
Without thinking, I smacked him. I was outraged now. "What the hell? You can't just do that to people! You could've just said something and I would have shut up. What do you think this is? A movie? You can't just kiss people whenever you feel like it!"
"Shyanne," he said softly. "Calm down." Then a smirk crossed his face and he went on. "To answer your question, yes. I do work out. Another answer; I'm here to give you this. You dropped it on your way out."
He held up a spiral notebook and my eyebrows knitted together. I was instantly confused. I would have sworn that I threw it in my bag before I left, but it was indeed mine. The swirly, cursive handwriting on the front was obviously mine. It had my name written on the front in huge lettering. Shyanne April Beeker.
I grabbed my notebook from him and mumbled a thank you. His eyes roamed my face before he left without another word. I finally breathed easily for the first time since I caught his scent. It was very faint now but it still flooded the room, making my nostrils flare when I breathed in, trying to consume more of his unreasonably delicious scent.
Now, it was time for me to do my research. I sat down in the spot and opened the book.