"Good morning, Mom." Ashlee entered the kitchen, opened the fridge, and grabbed a small bottle of water. She was already set to head out for school. Her uncle always left early, and her mother was rarely up this time of morning.
"For once, will you let me see your face? What is this weird obsession with hoodies?" her mother groaned as she washed the dishes. It had been months since she'd seen Ashlee's face, and Ashlee intended to keep it that way.
"Have a good day, Mom." Ashlee waved, turning her back. Her mother rolled her eyes, worried that Ashlee was hiding something troubling. She couldn't help but wonder if Ashlee had fallen in with a bad crowd, doing things she shouldn't.
"Thank god," Ashlee muttered as she gulped down her water.
Suddenly, someone jumped in front of her, causing her to spill water everywhere. Kyle stood there, a smirk on his face, taking in her covered appearance. All he could see were her eyes, as she wore a dark mask and a hoodie pulled low.
"You again," she muttered, batting her eyelashes.
"You really shouldn't address me like that." Kyle warned, clearly expecting more respect as a self-important alpha, though she thought of him more as a nuisance.
"Why should I?" Ashlee pushed him away slightly, hurrying to avoid being late to her morning classes.
"Did you just push me?" Kyle scoffed, matching her pace.
She remained silent, ignoring him and quickening her stride.
"I'm talking to you." Kyle grabbed her wrist roughly, forgetting she was already hurt—and that, as a human, her wounds took longer to heal. But Ashlee didn't even flinch.
"What the hell! Leave me alone," she hissed, jerking her hand free and scowling at him. Kyle was momentarily stunned, surprised by her strength. How did she manage to shake him off like that?
"I'm telling you, don't mess with me. I already have enough on my plate." She stormed past him, acting as though he was nothing.
"Illiterate! Stupid girl," he muttered, his pride bruised.
Ashlee opened her locker, only to find it stuffed with crumpled papers. She sighed, turning her head to the side where Crista and her minions were chuckling, clearly amused by her reaction.
Ashlee shook her head and slammed the locker door shut. Entering the classroom, she was met with yet another unpleasant surprise. On the board, "Freaky Ashlee" was boldly written, accompanied by crude doodles.
"What a great start," Ashlee murmured. Without bothering to erase it, she went to her seat and dropped her backpack onto the floor.
Her desk was covered with offensive scribbles—words like "Slut," "Freak," "Bitch," and "Die" littered the surface. Ashlee stared at the words in silence, a dark thought crossing her mind. Maybe giving up would be easier. There seemed to be no escape from this relentless torment.
Her dark musings were interrupted as Mr. Harvey entered, silencing the class with a stern gaze. He glanced at the board, then at Ashlee, who appeared completely unbothered by the insult.
"I can't believe you guys," he muttered, giving a disappointed look around the room. Despite his annoyance, the other students merely smirked. Mr. Harvey sighed, grabbing a duster and wiping the board clean.
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"Let's start the day with some positivity," Mr. Harvey said, offering Ashlee a sympathetic smile. She nodded back. He was the only one who showed her any kindness, yet she never confided her troubles to him.
"Let me introduce someone who will be joining you from now on. I hope you all welcome the newcomer and treat him kindly," Mr. Harvey said, looking around the room pointedly.
The door opened, and in walked a boy in a red-and-faded-black jacket, wearing ripped jeans. His bag was casually slung over one shoulder. His gaze locked onto Ashlee's, and he smirked as he moved forward.
"This is Kyle Vaughan," Mr. Harvey announced. Every girl in the room seemed to gasp, their eyes glued to his striking appearance.
"Would you like to introduce yourself, Kyle?" Mr. Harvey asked.
"Not necessarily," Kyle replied, his eyes still on Ashlee.
"Still, you should," Mr. Harvey insisted, patting Kyle's shoulder, which immediately irritated him. Kyle glared, and Mr. Harvey quickly withdrew his hand, clearing his throat.
"No need to know about me," Kyle said, still staring down the classroom.
What the hell is he doing here? Isn't he already enough of a problem? Life certainly knows how to mess with me,Ashlee thought, exasperated.
"Alright, Kyle, you can sit wherever you like." Mr. Harvey quickly moved on, sensing Kyle's dislike for close contact.
Kyle walked towards Ashlee, his gaze unwavering. He stopped beside her desk and looked at the boy sitting next to her, who hurriedly gathered his things and vacated the seat.
"Perfect," Ashlee muttered, rolling her eyes in disbelief as Kyle slid into the chair beside her.
"Hello again," Kyle whispered as the class resumed.
Ashlee pulled out her books and stared at the blank board.
"I seriously hate your guts," Kyle groaned, running his tongue over his teeth in frustration.
"That's not the only thing you hate about me, is it?" Ashlee raised a brow at him, her mask still covering her face. Kyle's curiosity only grew; he wanted to see what was hidden underneath.
"You know me well," Kyle replied, seeming amused to have finally coaxed a response from her.
"I hope not," Ashlee murmured, closing her book as Mr. Harvey instructed the class. The moment she did, the offensive scribbles on her desk became visible.
"What the hell is that?" Kyle snapped, keeping his voice low. He grabbed her book, momentarily, and scanned the crude words scrawled across the desk.
"Oh, this? These are doodles," Ashlee chuckled, picking up a marker and turning the insults into small cartoons.
"I'm pretty talented." Ashlee was always careful to hide how deeply these things bothered her. She wasn't about to let some stranger glimpse her real feelings—especially not this one.
"Oh, yeah? Then where was all that talent last night?" Kyle's words froze her. She'd nearly forgotten that he'd seen her.
"I don't know what you're talking about." She capped the marker and shoved her hands into her hoodie pocket. The bell rang, snapping the tension with its shrill alarm.
"Sure you don't," he huffed, watching her gather her things.
Before she could leave, Kyle yanked her back by grabbing her book.
"Take off that mask," he demanded, his eyes flashing a sudden, unnerving red. Ashlee was startled; just moments ago, his eyes had been normal. What was he?
"Listen, Kyle, it would be better if we just live our own lives. Leave me alone, and I won't bother you," Ashlee said, forcing a polite smile as she tried to retrieve her book, but he wouldn't let go.
"Unfortunately, it's not up to you. We're already fated. You are my mate," Kyle said firmly, his gaze holding hers. The classroom had emptied, leaving the two of them staring at each other.
"How can I be your mate? I don't even know you. We just met yesterday. All I did was see you, and now, suddenly, I'm your mate?" Ashlee released her grip on the book and stood straight, challenging him.
"I told you, I'm the Alpha," Kyle replied. His statement only fueled her irritation.
"Yeah, and I'm the Gamma, and we're throwing a uranium party," Ashlee quipped sarcastically, folding her arms.
"Ashlee, I'm not talking about science here. I'm the Alpha—of werewolves." His voice grew more intense, and he slammed her book on the desk, his veins popping as he fought for control.
"Sure," she retorted, slipping the book into her bag.
Turning to leave, she hadn't made it a step before Kyle seized her, pulling her back. He was breathing heavily, his fists clenched against the wall behind her. His closeness and intensity terrified her.
"H-Hey, what's wrong?" she stammered, her voice barely above a whisper. Her heart hammered as fear took hold.
"Just let me kiss you. Just once," Kyle murmured, his voice thick with need.
"Huh?" Before she could process his words, his lips were on hers, separated only by the thin mask. Even so, both of them felt the warmth, leaving Ashlee breathless and confused.