I flicked my eyes to the left, settling my eyes onto her face, where, if I had my way, they would stay for the rest of my life.

And stay there they did. She probably thought that I was mentally disturbed. Which I guess I was, according to normal people. It wasn't exactly normal to turn into a giant wolf and hear voices in your head.

A day ago, I would have given anything to trade in my wolfy self, but now . . . Now, it was ticket to Christina.

"Miss Preston," the teacher said, making me sit up and take notice. That was her name. "Could you tell me a main character from Hamlet?"

She straightened in her seat a little, stealing a glance at the book on her desk. "Uhh, Hamlet?"

"Thank you, Miss Preston. Can anybody tell me a famous quote from this play?" The Castle-woman eyeballed me, the sheer force of her stare pushing my hand into the air, slow-mo style.

"Mr Simmons?"

Craaap. Think, goddammit!

"Do you know the answer?"

"Uhh . . . No . . ." I muttered, very quietly.

"Anybody else? No? Yes, Miss Preston?

"To be or not to be."

Dear god. She was clever. I zoned out again as the teacher continued to ramble about themes and the significance of that particular line.

Then, I flicked a note across to her desk: How do you know so much about Hamlet?

"Now class," the teacher said, interrupting me again. I wasn't going to like this class very much. "Please read the ending again. I will be returning in one minute.

The second the door clicked shut, all restraints to civility broke loose. It was the last hour of school and the teacher had left the room. There was no point in obeying her.

"The notes are right here," Chrissy said suddenly, turning to look at me. "Castles has short term memory loss or something. She gave us these yesterday."

I grinned at her, not for any particular reason. Was this what imprinting was all about? I was walking on sunshine, even with the ridiculousness of my situation. I was in a classroom full of strangers, in a random school, on the opposite side of the country to all of my family, with nowhere to sleep at night and no way to eat, yet still I was the happiest and most optimistic I had ever been in my entire life.

"So, Chrissy?"

"Yeah?"

"What's up with Beatrice?" I asked, grasping at anything to talk to her about.

"Trixie is the real life version of any mean cheerleader cliché you've seen in a movie. I kid you not. She's a bitchy, stupid slut. Cal swears he saw her stashing a pack of pregnancy tests in her locker once." She peered sideways at me, looking for some kind of reaction.

"How does Caleb know what pregnancy tests look like?" I knew what they looked like, but that was because I was constantly running to the La Push drugstore for a worried Emily.

"Caleb is a hot-blooded male," she said carefully, turning to face me. "He is, following the cliché trend, a player. He's also a social reject because he has issues with conforming to peer expectations. Back to the test thing, he screws girls regularly. He's well-known in the local pharmacy because he's constantly buying condoms or pregnancy tests for his latest conquests. Such as Georgia, a librarian."

I squinted at her, trying to decide if she was being serious.

The bell shrieked and in almost two seconds flat, we were alone together.

"Jay-cob! You waited for me! Aren't you just the sweetest?!" It was Trixie. "We're going to be the hottest couple in the history of couples!"

"Look, about tha-" I began, only to be cut off.

"You know, Prom's in a few months."

I didn't say anything.

"Everyone knows that I have the most fun on prom night. Do you want to have some fun with me?"

I blinked. "Uhh, what?"

"But you'll take me won't you?" Her eyes began to twitch. Was that supposed to be alluring?

"Actually, I'd rather no-"

"Excellent! We can plan more closer to the day!" And with that she flounced away, her shoes clacking.

"What just happened?" I said, shocked.

Chrissy spoke from beside me and I glanced at her amused expression. "You just got a date for prom."