4
996 Words
Checking the university's website, I feel relieved that course registration has begun for the next semester, and I'm amongst the first few students online. There is no break between these two semesters, and we just get three days to choose our classes and register for them online. There are plenty of courses to choose from, but I'm aiming at Data Analytics as a major, and I want to take a more advanced course so that I can do an internship over the summer, which will pay me more. After registering for the mandatory classes, I turned my attention to the advanced courses I would have to take next year. Fortunately, since I'm on a scholarship, I'm allowed to register for advanced classes for the juniors. The college would prefer that I graduate as fast as possible. I just have to hand in a form at the administration office for approval.
My eyes settle on one of the courses, and I stare at the name before checking the syllabus out. This is a good one. However, the professor, Morris Wolfguard, is known for his strictness. He's supposedly panty-dropping hot, but his classes are a torture chamber. He's ruthless.
I've never met him but that's because he's been teaching at a sister college these past two years.
I press my lips together.
I can handle him.
I won't be making eyes at him, and I'll make sure to keep up with the coursework. It shouldn't be a problem.
My hand hovers over the 'register' option.
It will be spring soon, and the bar will be flooded with people. I might have to work overtime.
My jaw clenches, "It'll be fine. What's the worst that can happen?"
I press the button.
*** ***
There's no sign of Bond for the next couple of days. I do hear whispers about how he was found naked outside, and a lot of the female staff giggle over it.
When Henry approaches me about what happened, I feign ignorance.
He leaves me be.
He has no proof I had anything to do with it, and from what I know, Bond isn't talking. Why would he? Admit that a woman beat him up and left him naked outside? His ego won't be able to take it.
It's a good week overall, with my last exam done and dusted. However, there is one thing bothering me.
That strange sensation I experienced.
It's not all gone away.
I've woken up a couple of times in the morning, my arousal filling the room. I have no one to go and ask, so the only other place is one of the websites that shifters like myself visit. We're all registered on it and have to use our pack ID to access it. That's why I didn't want to. Nobody has come looking for me and Harry. But if our ID alerts someone, there's a good chance they will.
I check the wall clock.
"Three minutes," I murmur. "Just three minutes. In and out. Nobody will be the wiser."
Taking a deep breath. I quickly log on and put my symptoms in the search bar, my eyes checking the time every few seconds.
The forum loads, and I screenshot similar conversations without even reading them. Heart racing, I quickly log out just as the three minutes are up and then sink back into my chair, letting out a shaky breath.
"That was close."
"What was?" Harry asks, looking over his shoulder at me from where he's watching cartoons on the small TV that I got out of a dumpster two months ago. We don't have cable, but I downloaded some cartoons for him using my college Wi-Fi and plugged in the USB in the port.
"Nothing," I smile at him. "Let's have lunch in an hour and then go to the park. We can go ice skating."
His eyes light up. Like mine, his eyes, too, are a light green with specks of gold in them. But he inherited our father's curly brown hair, while mine is long and sleek and black, like our mother's. My mouth is a little wide with a mole just above my upper lip, all my baby fat long gone. Harry still has his chubby little cheeks and an infectious smile that makes me want to drown his precious face in kisses.
I raised him from the moment he was born.
My mother was too busy trying to earn my father's love to pay attention to him. I was the one who fed him, clothed him, looked after him. Mom was just never around.
I let out a long breath, "You doing good, kiddo? School's going well?"
"I made some friends," Harry beams at me before turning back to the television.
"You did?" I smile at him. "And when do I get to meet them?"
"Never," my little brother gives me a narrow-eyed look over his shoulder. "You always embarrass me in front of my friends!"
I grin, "That's my job. And I'm going to get better at it, so you'd better watch out."
Harry sticks his tongue out at me before edging closer to the television.
I leave him be, turning my attention back to the screenshots I just took.
I go through the responses, and my jaw tightens as the word pheromones keeps coming up. But it doesn't make sense. Pheromones, in us shifters, usually come out when a potential mate crosses paths with us. And if that happened, I would know. If the man meant to be my mate entered the bar I worked at, there is no way I wouldn't have found out.
Every wolf shifter has potential mates out there who can be a good fit for us. Pheromones come out when the mate is in proximity. They drive both shifters towards each other. Sometimes, potential mates can turn out to be your fated mate. Everyone looks for that.
I feel uneasy. There's no hint of joy within me.
- Writer
