Author's Note
I'm co-hosting a new fan fiction award called the TwiTastic Awards. You can begin to nominate your favorite stories May 31. (Side note: My stories will NOT be considered for any of the categories.) You can find the link to the awards below or on my profile page.
http:/twitasticawards(dot)webs(dot)com/
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Chapter Prologue
What can I tell you about college life? Umm…it's a blast?
No, seriously. They say that college years are the best years of your life. There was a lot of truth in that for me. College wasn't just a place for me to go and get an education. It became an escape that I desperately needed.
Sure, I had studying and classes, but I also ended up making some good friends and had a social life that didn't involve having to burst into a fluffy wolf. For the first time in a long time, I felt normal. While I lived on campus, I wasn't Leah, the discarded ex of Sam. I wasn't Leah, the daughter of a revered, yet dead Elder. And I especially wasn't Leah, the lone female wolf who was viewed as a sadistic bitch. I was just Leah Clearwater, your typical everyday student and normal girl.
Whitney helped with that. The first year I lived with her, she decided to personally take on the challenge of feminizing me. My first weekend on campus, she took me shopping for lip balm and mascara. She also forced me to get a "party" outfit…something that I could wear to future frat outings and social events. I didn't know why, but Whitney took me on as her personal project. She introduced me to her friends and associates. If I seemed to flail in a social setting, she'd race to my side and rescue me.
I asked her about that once years later. She said that when I first arrived on campus, I seemed kind of lost. Like I had been through a war or something, and she wanted to help me out. She had no idea how accurate she was.
My classes themselves were…well, classes. Some were interesting. Some were boring as hell. Take Psychology, for example. You really think I gave a shit about Pavlov's dogs? I already knew all about animalistic behavior and how conditioned dogs could be. I didn't need that fucking reminder crammed down my throat. I also knew more about the inner psyche of the male mind than any female should, thanks to sharing the mindset of a predominately male pack. So why the hell did I have to study a subject about human behavior?
Still, Psychology class did have one benefit. While sitting in Guthrie Hall that first day, I heard my name called. And when I looked up, I saw my future…
Chapter 10 – Guthrie
Leah's POV
My alarm clock beeped annoyingly next to my ear. I groaned and tried to ignore the persistent noise. It was the second time I had been woken this morning. Whitney's radio alarm started blaring Redneck Woman around 6 am. She got out of her bed humming. That girl was definitely not normal.
Rolling on my side and reaching over to turn the alarm off, I snuggled back down in my sheets. It was snowing out and though I didn't physically feel the coldness of the day, the thought of leaving my comfy bed did not motivate me to want to get up. Still, it was the first day of classes. I had two this morning and two more this afternoon. First up was a creative writing class, though I didn't know who could be creative at 9 am. My class right after that was Psychology.
Yawning, I got up and went into the bathroom for a quick shower. Not even bothering to dry my hair, I pulled it into a small ponytail. Since retiring from the pack a few months ago, I had begun to let my hair grow out a little. I loved being able to wear a ponytail again. It was so much more freaking convenient than trying to style it. When I first became a wolf, I tried to hold onto my femininity by doing my hair. I would spend extra time blow drying and curling it on the days I had to work in the supply store. After I realized I wasn't getting my period anymore, my self-esteem took such a huge hit that I stopped bothering with it.
Brushing my teeth next, I looked at my reflection in the mirror. I had dark circles under my eyes and had the appearance of being slightly hung over, though the most I had to drink as of late was chilled water. Ah well, who did I have to impress anyway?
"Eat your heart out, boys," I said to the mirror.
Laughing at how stupid I sounded, I left the bathroom and walked over to my closet, grabbing some track pants and a t-shirt. Wanting to be inconspicuous, I also pulled on a sweatshirt jacket. I knew I wouldn't need it, but to look like I belonged, I couldn't walk around campus in just a t-shirt.
I went over to my desk and grabbed the books I was going to need for the morning. Throwing them in my brand new backpack, a gift from my pack, I headed outside. As I walked towards my first class, I observed other people's reactions to things. If they shuddered from a cold breeze, I shuddered in return. I wanted to blend in as best as I could.
I made it to my first class and sat through an hour long lecture of what the professor's expectations were going to be. Once it was over, I headed to Guthrie Hall where my psychology class was being held. Thankfully, it wasn't that far of a distance. I had enough time to stop for a coffee on the way. Unfortunately, I ran into my resident aide outside of the coffee shop.
"OMG! Leah Clearwater, how's it going?" Barbie asked.
"Yeah…it's uh, it's great," I replied, still freaked out by Peppy Longstockings.
"What will you have?" The vendor asked.
"Umm…" I looked up at the sign above the shop counter. There were about 20 different selections of coffee to choose from. Fuck, all I wanted was some caffeine…not that it would have any effect on me.
"You have got to get the vanilla soy latte," Barbie insisted. "It's absolutely to die for. I mean seriously, it should be a cardinal sin it's that good."
"Fine," I said, plastering a pained smile on my face. "I'll get that."
"Make it two, please," Barbie said brightly. "So…have you had any classes yet this morning?"
"I just got done with Creative Writing," I replied, keeping my eyes on the vendor as he worked, hoping that it would somehow speed up the latte making process.
"Who do you have?" Barbie asked.
"Professor White."
"Oh, I had her last year. She's a bitch."
I laughed, not expecting such a human response from Barbie.
"Here you are," the vendor said, passing our drinks. I paid for mine and turned to Barbie.
"Well, I need to get going. I'm supposed to be in Psychology in about 10 minutes."
"Sure," Barbie nodded. "You have a super day."
"Thanks…you too." I gave as friendly a smile as I could muster and walked outside.
I took a sip of my coffee and stopped as soon as it hit my taste buds. Holy fucking shit! It was like heaven in a cup. I gulped the rest down in three swallows. It burned my tongue, but by the time I got near the building of my next class the pain was already gone.
I walked into my classroom and glanced around. It was really a small auditorium. The students' desks were nothing more than chairs with a pull out table attached to each one. The seats were arranged in a stadium style setting.
I found a place to sit in the back row and sat down. Pulling out my textbook, I began to flip through the pages. I groaned as I looked at the material. Oh God…this class was going to be more boring than Jacob describing in detail the different ways Nessie could hunt.
"Leah, right?" A deep voice said, interrupting my thoughts. I looked up and almost gasped.
Standing next to my chair was possibly one of the hottest guys I had ever seen in my entire life. He had dishwater blond hair which he wore short, the hair styled to stick up slightly in the front. His eyes reminded me of bright blue sapphires, his nose reminiscent of a roman warrior…shit, when did I get so cheesy? I couldn't help but notice that he was also amazingly tall for a human…at least 6'4.
"I'm sorry," he said with a frown. "Maybe I mistook you for someone else."
I closed my mouth which I only just realized was hanging open. I shook my head and said, "No, you were right. I'm Leah."
"We didn't really get a chance to meet properly this past weekend, but I'm Dylan, Miguel and Whitney's friend," he explained, sticking out his hand for me to shake.
I felt my heart sink. So this was Dylan, the guy whose fiancée was killed last year. This guy was off limits. I mean…most guys were off limits…unless I found an imprint. And I wasn't sure I'd settle for anything less at this point. What was the point of trying to fall in love with someone when it could all be taken away in a moment? Like my relationship with Sam. One minute, we're going out, the next he imprints on Emily. I couldn't do that to someone, especially not someone like Dylan who had already suffered so much.
"I remember you," I replied a little more coolly than I intended, taking his hand briefly. I quickly released it, but I could still feel the imprint of his skin on mine.
He stared at me for a moment before asking, "Would it be all right if I sat next to you?"
"Sure…whatever," I responded casually, though my heart started to beat erratically.
He sat down and pulled his textbook out of the satchel he was carrying, before placing the bag on the floor. When he sat up, a wave of his masculine scent hit me. He smelled incredible…like sandalwood. I felt my eyes drift to his profile just as he looked over at me. I quickly looked away.
"So…are you majoring in Psychology or something?" He asked.
I shook my head. "Right now, I'm undecided."
"Ah." He smiled in understanding.
"What about you?" I wondered. "Is this your major?"
"No," Dylan laughed. The sound made me feel fucking giddy. "I'm getting a degree in computer programming. I'm only taking this because it's a general elective. You know…one of those useless classes that have nothing to do with your degree, but the school wants you to take anyway so they can get more money out of you?"
"You think Psychology is useless?" I was really starting to like this guy.
Dylan shrugged. "I'm not planning on becoming a shrink. I don't see why I need to take a class in this."
I smiled, really smiled since first arriving. Dylan's eyes lingered on my mouth for a moment before he continued talking.
"So how do you like living with Whitney?"
"She seems nice," I responded honestly. "She took me shopping yesterday. My clothes didn't meet her approval."
Dylan laughed. "That sounds like Whit."
"Have you known her for long?"
"About two years now. She and Miguel pretty much started dating as soon as she arrived on campus."
Which meant that Whitney must have known Dylan's fiancée, Anna. Before we could speak anymore, the professor came in and began the class. He was as dry and boring as the subject matter. Fearing that I would fall asleep, I found my attention drifting to my neighbor. He was busy taking notes, but there was a slightly glazed look in his eyes. Dylan turned his head and caught me looking at him again. He gave me a polite smile before returning back to his notepad. I forced my eyes away and made myself listen to the professor. It was hard. I didn't want to look at him. I wanted to stare at Dylan.
It was strange. I hadn't imprinted. I didn't feel the universal shift in my gravity that imprinted wolves usually experienced. And yet, I still felt really drawn to this guy. Granted, he was easy on the eyes…possibly even cuter than Sam. But it wasn't just his looks that I was attracted to. Maybe it had to do with the fact that we had both gone through rough experiences. I didn't want to analyze it too closely though. I couldn't allow myself to become interested in this guy.
I sighed and began to fidget as the professor's voice droned on and on. I felt like a person with ADD who badly needed a dose of Ritalin. I started shaking my leg nervously. I looked at the white board where the professor had written in bright red marker, "Psychology 101."
To keep my mind off Dylan, I began to see how many words I could make out of the word, Psychology.
School
Chop
Psycho
I laughed silently. That last one was pretty fitting for how I was feeling right now. I was so distracted that I almost jumped when I felt a hand on my shaking leg. I looked over and saw Dylan staring at me with a slightly amused expression.
"Too much caffeine this morning?" He whispered. I nodded my head stupidly and he went back to taking notes, removing his hand. I took a deep breath, trying to calm my suddenly racing heart.
Forcing myself to concentrate, I listened to the rest of the professor's lecture. When the class was finally over, I threw my book in my bag and stood up, stretching slightly.
"What are you doing now?" Dylan asked as he put his book in his satchel and buckled the bag.
"Probably getting something to eat and going back to my dorm to read before my next class," I told him.
"Do you want to get lunch together?" He asked as he stood up.
My mind immediately went into overdrive. What did he mean by that? Was he asking me out on a date? If he meant it as a date, I already knew why I should say no…I just didn't know if I could. I was really fascinated with this guy, probably more than I should be. I looked into his eyes and noticed for the first time the strain behind them. Though he put on a good front, I could see the sadness that Dylan was carefully trying to hide. Witnessing that, I knew what I needed to do.
"Thanks, but I don't think so," I replied.
"You need to eat and I need to eat, so why not?" Dylan wondered in confusion.
"I…" I tried to come up with a good excuse, but my mind went blank.
"Look, if you're worried that I'm asking you out, don't be. No offense, but I'm not really looking to get in a relationship right now."
Oddly enough, that hurt. I knew his reasons for not wanting to date anyone. In fact, no reason could be more valid. But to be out-and-out rejected stung a little. I was about to tell him to forget the idea, when I looked into his eyes and saw the grief there.
Shaking my head because I knew how stupid it was to pursue even friendship with this guy, I said, "Sure…why not."
"Great," Dylan said, smiling again.
He walked out of the row of seats and I followed closely behind. We headed to the student common area where there was a banquet of fast food restaurants. We got in line for some McDonald's and sat down to eat once we got our food.
"So where are you from?" Dylan asked as he bit into his Big Mac.
"From the Quileute rez in La Push," I responded, dipping my fries into some ketchup. "That's on the west coast of the state."
"So you're Native American?"
"Yeah," I replied defensively. "Is that a problem?"
"Why would it be?" Dylan questioned, his forehead furrowing. When I didn't say anything, he sat back in his chair. "Ah, I see. You thought I was being racist."
I stared down at my food.
"I don't have a problem if that's what you were wondering," Dylan said, taking another bite of his sandwich and swallowing. "My great-grandfather was from the Chinook tribe. It's one of my heritages I'm proud of the most."
I quickly wiped my mouth with a napkin, hoping he wouldn't see me cringe. I was ashamed to admit it, but I had a problem with him being Native American. Great, now I was the one with a race issue against my own people. I couldn't help it though. My mind instantly began to wonder what the legends of his people were. I knew from firsthand experience that legends weren't just fairytales. Would Dylan someday burst into an animal and imprint on some unsuspecting female? And then I felt angry with myself for even caring.
"You said that's one of your heritages?" I asked before taking a swig of my soda.
"Yeah," he replied, giving me a smile that made my stomach drop. "I'm your average American mutt. Besides my Native heritage, I also have Swedish, German, English, and Finnish blood."
"And what about the Native part?" I couldn't help but ask. "Any freaky legends that you know of?"
He laughed. "Not that I'm aware of. Well…there is one. Supposedly the tribe was started by this guy named Thunderbird who was part man, part spirit."
My heart sank even further. From what I remembered of my zoology class in high school, certain birds, such as ducks, could imprint.
"What about the Quileutes? Any strange legends?" Dylan asked.
"Wolves," I responded, more honestly than I'd ever been with anyone outside the tribe. "We phase into wolves."
Dylan just shook his head. "Crazy, isn't it?"
I frowned, before standing up. Dylan looked at me in surprise.
"This was fun, but I have to go," I told him.
"Leah, look, I'm sorry if I offended you. That wasn't my intention."
"You didn't," I replied stiffly. "I just need to go. See you next class."
"Okay, see you later," Dylan responded, looking disappointed.
I grabbed my tray and hurriedly walked away, throwing my half eaten food in the trash. I headed straight back to my dorm. I knew now that Dylan Gordon would need to be avoided at all costs. I came to college to leave my problems behind me, not start new ones.
First of all, Dylan was heartbroken. I had my own shattered heart to deal with, how could I fix his? Secondly, it was in the realm of possibilities that Dylan could phase someday. If he did, would he imprint? I couldn't go through that again.
No, it was best to stay away from Dylan. It didn't matter that I was attracted to him. It didn't matter that I felt a connection to him that was stronger than any male before him, including Sam. I didn't imprint on him. I wished I would have because that would have solved all my problems, but it didn't happen.
I arrived at my dorm and headed to my room, carefully avoiding Brenna and Bridget, who I could see sitting in the lounge area off of the main entrance. When I walked in my room, Whitney was already there. She was on her bed lying on her stomach, reading one of her textbooks. She also had on some horrible twangy music.
"Hey," she said, looking up at me. "How have your classes been so far?"
"Fine," I replied, taking my books out of my backpack and exchanging them for the books I'd need for my afternoon classes.
I looked at Whitney and blurted out before I could stop myself, "I have a class with Miguel's friend."
"Which one?" Whitney questioned in confusion.
"Psychology," I replied distractedly.
"No," Whitney laughed. "Which friend?"
I didn't want it to seem like Dylan was important so I said casually, "Oh, you know. That guy who was the bartender at the frat party."
"You mean Dylan?" Whitney wondered.
"Oh, right. That's him," I shrugged offhandedly. Jesus, I could win an Oscar.
"Reeeallly," Whitney drawled out before smiling wickedly. "So you have class with Dylan, huh?"
"Yeah," I responded, not making eye contact.
"Did you get a chance to talk to him?"
"A little bit." No need to share that I had lunch with the guy. Whitney was beginning to get an excited gleam in her eye that was making me nervous.
"You know what this is?" Whitney asked. "This is fate."
She reached over and pulled a magazine out of her backpack, which was lying on the floor next to her bed. "What's your sign?"
"Are you serious?" I looked at her like she was crazy.
"I never joke about Astrology," she answered sternly. "Now what's your sign?"
"Capricorn," I replied, with a roll of the eyes.
Whitney opened her magazine and began to use her index finger to skim over the page.
"Capricorn, Capricorn…ah, here it is." Whitney paused to read it before a huge smile appeared on her face.
I knew I'd shoot myself later for this, but I couldn't help but ask, "What does it say?"
"You will meet a man that will play a huge role in your life."
I snorted. "Great, then I met him. My psychology professor is male. And if I don't pass his boring ass class, then I most likely won't graduate later on. Glad my horoscope cleared that up."
"Twist it anyway you like, but Dylan is clearly going to have a big role in your future," Whitney stated smugly. "Now we just need to find a way to get you two together."
"No," I snapped. "I already told you that I'm not interested in dating anyone, least of all Dylan."
"Fine, fine," Whitney sighed, not the least bit offended by my tone. She set her magazine aside and began reading her textbook again.
I grabbed a book off the end table next to my bed and began reading it. It was purely a fun read meant to entertain, yet it couldn't hold my attention. I glanced over at Whitney who was busy studying.
Cursing my curiosity, I said, "Dylan mentioned that you and Miguel have been dating for awhile."
"Mmhmm, about two years," Whitney replied, picking up a highlighter that was on her bed and marking her book with it.
"You must have met Anna then, huh?" I asked about Dylan's fiancée.
Whitney gave me a knowing look. "Yeah, I did."
"Hmm…" I muttered, going back to reading my book. After several minutes of silence, I set it down again. "What was she like?"
Whitney shrugged before saying sadly, "Anna was a sweetheart, funny and warm. She was the type who would've given the shirt off her back to help someone if they needed it. She also had a great sense of humor and was really pretty. She reminded me of a Barbie doll sometimes without having the gargantuan, disproportioned boobs. She had long blond hair and bright blue eyes. It would have been very easy to hate Anna if she wasn't so loveable."
I felt my eyebrows draw into a frown. Well, fuck. If I had been feeling uneasy before about my attraction to Dylan, now I just felt downright depressed. The girl sounded like she was a saint. Who could compete with that? Not that I wanted to compete. I looked over and saw Whitney looking at me, waiting for my reaction. I quickly straightened my face.
"She sounds like she was really nice," I replied politely. "You must miss her."
"Yeah, I do," Whitney nodded. "I mean, I wasn't extremely close to her or anything. She and Dylan were kind of in their own little world. But it really hurt when she died. She had so much life to live still."
I nodded and picked up my book, feeling my heart ache all over again. Everything Whitney said confirmed why I needed to stay away from Dylan.
"So…are you sure you aren't interested in Dylan?" Whitney persisted.
"I already said I wasn't interested in Dylan Gordon," I answered waspishly.
"Hmm….fascinating," Whitney responded before going back to her reading.
Raising my eyes to the ceiling and praying for patience, I took a deep breath and asked, "What's fascinating?"
Whitney rolled on her side and gave me her full attention. "I find it fascinating that when you first told me that you had class with Dylan, you couldn't even remember his name. And yet, you just said his first and last name. I haven't brought up his last name since we began this bizarre conversation. For a girl who isn't interested in dating anyone, you certainly seem curious about him."
"I feel bad for the guy, that's all," I stated defensively.
Whitney shook her head and turned back to her book. "If you say so."
Feeling frustrated and annoyed, my hands began to shake. Standing up before I exploded, I snapped, "You know, I think Miguel is right. Your music is going to drive me up a fucking wall."
And with no better exit line than that, I grabbed my backpack and headed outside. Taking a deep breath of cool air to calm myself down, I headed for the library as I didn't have class for another hour.
It wasn't as comfortable as my dorm room, but at least it was quiet.
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Please Review! To my fellow Americans, have a safe and fun Memorial Weekend!