Out of the corner of my eye, I catch the smug and pleased expression that takes over Kaleb’s smooth, sculpted features. I just said it’s an empty title, but it doesn’t stop them from lording it over each other’s heads.
“Anyway,” I state loudly, trying to shift the conversation away from my love life, “weren’t we going to compare class schedules?”
Felix’s disappointment over not being best boy evaporates when he pulls his phone out and shows me his classes. “Look, I got into all the AP and honors courses I wanted. I had to take a bunch of assessment tests over the summer, but it was worth it not to be bored all year.”
“Only you would be excited to have more and harder homework,” Nolan comments dryly, pulling out his planner that already has his schedule filled out.
The rest of us take out our phones to compare. I’m so glad that I’m done with my creative arts electives. I’m many things, but an artist is not one of them. This year, I’m taking plant science as an elective with Mei to continue my botany education—this time with plants not instantly designed to murder someone or make them wish they were dead. Nice change of pace.
Kaleb, Donovan, Felix, and I are all in the same AP calculus class, and Nolan and I have economics together. I frown down at Donovan’s schedule as a suspicious weight sits in my gut. “Why are you in the same beginner cooking class as me? You already know how to cook.”
“I told you I was going to teach you how to cook,” he states matter-of-factly, crossing his arms over his chest once more, his phone loosely clasped in his fist. “You avoided the fun way, so the traditional way it is.”
Felix squints over at Donovan. “Call me crazy, but isn’t the teacher supposed to teach her?”
“You wouldn’t ask that if you saw the way Callie sautés vegetables.” Donovan flashes an amused smirk in my direction. “She needs one-on-one tutoring as well.”
“Burn one pan, and I’ll never hear the end of it,” I grumble, stuffing my phone into my backpack.
“Just one?” Donovan challenges, lifting one of his dark, thick brows.
“Alright, maybe a few,” I admit sullenly, my gaze not quite meeting his.
“Cupcake bricks,” Mei chimes in with glee, a reminder of my failed attempt to bake for Connor’s birthday.
Kaleb earns his best boy title by steering the conversation back toward classes. “I didn’t know we had a culinary curriculum.”
“Oh yeah,” Mei answers, tucking some of her long strands of hair behind her ears. “They are a whole set of new electivesthis year. Originally, all we had was home economics and the cooking club. It was Ms. Brooks who pushed for more focused culinary classes. She argued that it was a valuable, lifelong skill as well as a trade profession. I’m in the AP pastry class. For me, it’s just for fun since I’m destined to take over the family business, but the class does count toward credits at various trade schools.”
“That’s awesome!” I exclaim, focusing on my excitement for Mei and not the gnawing suspicion that my abysmal cooking inspired the push for more culinary classes. Ms. Brooks wasveryinsistent that I consider taking the new beginner’s course when my inability to even boil an egg promptly landed me a C in Food & Nutrition.
The morning bell rings, and I’m worried Connor is going to miss the first day of school when I spot him standing near the parking lot. He’s in a heated discussion with Sam, his second-in-command within the pack, if her frustrated expression and wild gesturing are any indication.
Mei follows my line of sight and pats my shoulder. “Do you want us to wait with you?”
I’m touched that she knows I’m not leaving until I see Connor and that she’s willing to be late for class for any moral support I might need. I wave her off. “No, it’s okay. You all head to class. Everyone shouldn’t be late on the first day.”
Kaleb comes up on the other side of me and kisses my temple. “We’ll tell Mr. Harris that you’re in the bathroom.”
“Add that she’s having women’s troubles,” Donovan suggests. “He won’t question it, because he’s old and apparently creeped out by periods.”
“Just don’t announce it to the class,” I beg with my hands together in a prayer pose. “I don’t need a new thing to be famousfor around campus. My locker is clean and gloriously empty at the moment. I’d like to keep it that way.”
Felix places his hands on his hips and shakes his head. “It’s a bodily function. I don’t understand why dudes get so weird about it.”
“To the girlfriendless, women are utter mysteries,” Mei proclaims while rolling her eyes. “They are convinced we are strange creatures who follow the cycles of the moon—you know, like werewolves.”
“Werewolves aren’t real.” Rand sniffs indignantly. “We’re wolf shifters. Not the same thing.”
“And periods don’t have anything to do with the moon,” she states, gesturing up at the sky. “That’s the point. It’s all bullshit propagated by idiots who haven’t bothered to learn how any of it actually works.” Rand opens his mouth, and Mei holds up a finger. “I swear if you tell me that wolf shifters are secrets from mortals, and therefore, they can’t learn the difference, I will smack you, and my moms will be driving me to school tomorrow.”
He wisely closes his mouth and offers his elbow to escort her to class.
“Smart boy,” she praises, outwardly the picture of her normal, confident self except for her hand shaking and her cheeks burning as she loops her arm through his.
Felix points at the school entrance when the couple disappears through the doors. “When did that happen?”
“Over the summer,” I explain quickly, and then I begin shooing the four of them away. “Go before you’re all late for class.”
