Chapter 3

After a long time eating lunch with Brittany, Connor, Haden, Daniel, Kayla, Lucas, Lindsey, and Rafe. I finally realized that I was missing an important message with the Elders. As much as I loved chatting with old friends it was time to go. After I read the letter I practically ran to the library trying to turn my over an hour late too over sixty-nine minutes late.

When I walked in to the library there were no Elders around. Well that's strange this letter directly tells me to come in here to meet the Elders. I just sighed and sat at one of the study tables. I guess I can wait for a few minutes. I looked around and spotted only a few shifters walking around and collecting books in their arms.

Then I saw him, collecting books just like the others. Or were they magazines? The boy that Brittany called Drew was standing about five feet away from me collecting magazines on wrestling. Fighting- freak much. He looked up at me and that strange quiver of fear hit me again. It was like the total opposite from trey. When I would see Trey, kindness stroked my heart, but when I see this guy Drew, my body goes into shock mode.

He closed his magazine while keeping his light brown eyes on me. And grabbed another one off the shelf. On the front of it was Sheamus O'Shaunessy flexing his biceps with an ax in his hand. Then he looked at the magazine and started walking this way.

Oh my goodness, he's coming straight this way. Wait! Why do I care?

I looked down at the black letter pretending I was reading it and lost myself in the wording. Drew sat down across from me closing the magazine and propping up on his elbows.

"Why do I get the feeling that you're stalking me?" He asked. His voice was rapidly, deeply dangerous. When I looked up at him he had the cockiest smirk I've ever laid eyes on.

"Only conceited people think stockers are amusing." I snapped. Was that rude of me? He studied my face for a moment. It looked like he was thinking carefully about what he was going to say next. 'He's a douche,' Brittany's voice was echoing in my head with a warning tone.

"A smart ass, I see . . ." He chose his words carefully.

"If that's your combat you really need to work on that area, it's kind of rusty." I admitted. Okay, maybe I am being a little insensitive.

He didn't reply to my comment this time. Instead he focused his eyes on my letter. "The Elders want to speak to you? What, did you spit on there mojo too?" This time I cracked a smile.

"No my grandfather is Elder Wilde." I announced.

"Ah, your Lucas's cousin." He finally figured out with an understanding sigh.

"Yes, and I'm afraid the Elders want to talk about . . ." I felt sick to my stomach. I hadn't felt this way since the day it happened. 'I'm afraid Trey . . . has been shot just above the heart with a silver bullet. Who ever did this . . . knew what they were doing.' Trey . . . "Stuff." I said harshly. All those days that I cried to my therapist didn't pay off. I still couldn't admit to his death. The only thing she did was help me not cause suicide.

"Something tells me that this 'stuff' is some steep shit." He replied. I sort of forgot that he was listening to me. I looked at him with a confused look. He put his hands up as if he was acused for something. "Its okay if you don't want to tell me, I don't want to listen." I got up quickly shoving my letter in my back jeans pocket.

"I'm sorry, I got to go it was nice meeting you . . ." I trailed off pretending I didn't know his name.

"Drew."

"It was nice meeting you Drew," I said starting to walk away. I turned around real quick and said, "By the way, my name is Olive."

"I know."