The Broken Werewolves: The Human Mate (LGBT)

Chapter 4

Chapter 4

Nigel Quintin Ulysses

The moment I step into the room, all eyes fall into me. I smile once I see my friends motioning me to come forward. Rico is showing me his cellphone, giving me a happy grin as he jiggles the phone in his hand. Apparently Stephanie, the one he's been courting ever since he has known her, said yes when he asked her out on a date.

"Nice one, Rico," I tell him as I approach them. Rico turns his phone to him and types rapidly on his cellphone. I roll my eyes at his eagerness. Rico is so in love with Stephanie and ever since he met her, his eyes are only for Stephanie. Though Stephanie only treated him before as a friend, when Rico had the balls to ask her out, Stephanie became awkward when it came around Rico but she eventually said yes because Rico is a persistent little asshole. "So when's the date and where will it be?"

Rico actually blushes, shaking his head. The guys laugh at him, saying that he will be whipped once they're together. "You guys are a complete assholes." Rico mutters under his breath, shoving his phone back in his left pocket.

Grinning, I congratulate him once again and when I'm about to take a seat in my usual seat, there's someone sitting on it. I let out a frown first, but when his eyes meet mine, I see how blue his eyes are – they are so beautiful, as if they could replace the sun and the moon, the ocean and everything beautiful in this world. His blonde hair is pushed back neatly and the way he dresses, it gives me a gentleman-ish look. His eyes bore into mine and I feel like he can see right through me, can see my soul, and I feel naked and vulnerable all of a sudden.

My feet are glued on the ground and I can't move any single muscle. The world slowly tilts and I get dizzy all of a sudden, my heart stopping. His eyes and he are the only thing I can see in my peripheral vision. I try to look away, but his eyes hold me as captive.

"Are you okay, bro?" Rico asks as he puts a hand on my shoulder, looking at me worriedly. "You've become pale. Something wrong?"

I shake my head, thanking that there's a distraction. Rico doesn't look convince but lets it go. Instead of asking what he's doing in my seat (because I'm really not an asshole or a jerk, but sometimes I am), I choose the one next to him instead. His eyes linger, follow me while I take a seat and his gaze is burning with something. His gaze is intense, directed at me. I shut my eyes, breathing shallowly, trying to calm my now racing heart.

"Mine, mine, mine," the guy next to me whispers while staring at me. I block out his words because... because when he said mine, I feel like every part of me is being drawn to him. Eventually he stops, then I hear him curse under his breath while I still try to calm my heart. It takes a couple of minutes before I regain composure and I stare ahead, not looking in my left nor my right. His gaze lingered at me for a few seconds before he trained his eyes forward.

There's still five minutes left before this period starts and I feel like it's the worst five minutes ever of my life. Never have I been so excited for the class to start just to have some major distraction. There's this urge to reach him out, to get to know him, but I stop myself because I, Nigel Quintin Ulysses, don't do that. Usually it's them introducing themselves to me – I don't really have a problem with me introducing myself, but I feel like... I'm threatened. Yeah, that's it. I'm only threatened.

When the school's strictest Mathematic teacher Ms. Brittany Johnson (because me, Rico, Daniel, and Luis are always thinking she's always PMSing) comes in and glares at all of us – everybody stiffens at that, I feel grateful. This is the first period – which really sucks. If I hadn't met a guy with the bluest blue eyes I've ever seen in my whole life, I wouldn't consider this subject awesome.

Ms. Brittany Johnson eyes at all with her piercing grey eyes and all of us remain stiff, staring straight ahead, not uttering a single word and not making a single move, except for one guy, and that guy is sitting beside me. He remains calm, collected, and nonchalant about meeting the strictest teacher ever. Damn, even she beats Mr. Rusk, our basketball coach, when it comes to the 'strict' category. Ms. Brittany Johnson owns that.

From the corner of my eyes, I see the guy eye our math teacher, arching a brow as he looks over at her. As if sensing that I'm looking, he turns his head to face me and my eyes shoot forward, looking at our math teacher instead.

Ms. Johnson places the book she's carrying on the table, eyes each one of us before sighing out loud (and that's her way to let us know that it's just another day she needs to survive for we're just a bunch of high school teenagers who need to learn the sine, cosine, and tangent function but think that we're never going to use it in real life, outside the school), and delivers her usual and mocking statement "Before we start, I want to let you know that I'm the boss here. With the tip of my pen, your future is over. Good-bye University; Good-bye College; hello McDonald's. I would be delighted to see you working in that shit." Though it's really inappropriate for a teacher to curse, this one is different; Ms. Johnson can say what she wants to say – she even scares the principal of our school.

But. There's nothing wrong with working in McDonald's. It's a clean job. You get to eat fries, and nuggets, and drink McFloats, and savor the taste of Hot Fudge Sundae. For free!

We resist the urge to groan in annoyance because Ms. Johnson is really serious about that. If you're really smart, you'd keep your mouth shut and try (as hard as you can!) to enjoy her math lectures.

She begins to tell us our topic for today and the more I stare at what she's writing on the board, the more I become confused because really, where should I apply sine, cosine, and tangent in my f*****g great life? I am a basketball player, basically a star (I'm not bragging nor am I being a d**k, an asshole, or a jerk – I'm just telling the truth), and have a good and sweet and almost perfect girlfriend. When I go to college, I'd learn how to bake pies and cook stuff because that's what I want to do. And I don't really think that I'd apply whatever Ms. Brittany Johnson, the strictest teacher ever in Northern High School, is telling us. Whatever the hell it is, I'm understanding nothing at all.

"Oh, I totally forgot, we have a new student here," Ms. Johnson cuts herself of and thank God for that. All she does is to spew shits about the sine 'defined as the ratio of the side opposite the angle to the hypotenuse' and cosine 'defined as the ratio of the adjacent leg to the hypotenuse' and I AM NOT REALLY UNDERSTANDING ANYTHING. "Come on here, new student. Introduce yourself. Up! Up!"

The new guy with the blond hair and amazing blue eyes stand up nonchalantly, walking across the isle of seats, all eyes trained on him, and stands beside Ms. Johnson. The girls sigh as they look dreamily at the new guy with the blond hair and amazing and tantalizing blue eyes. I refuse to do the same, looking down instead.

Ms. Johnson has him tell his name and what he usually does, and where he has come from. "I'm Mark Pierson, and I came from Wisconsin. My parents... they were born here and decided for us to live back here. I don't really do much except watch whatever is on the television and... I don't do sports. I'm not into sports."

"Oh, oh!" Kiana, sitting behind me, raises her arm up and captures both he and Ms. Johnson's attention. Everyone stares at her and so do I, turning my head and look at her over my shoulder. "Do you, like, have a girlfriend? Are you taken?"

That question makes my ear quirk up. I turn around and meet his blue eyes, waiting for his answer. I don't know why I have this eagerness to know whether he is taken or not, but it just does. His eyes hold my gaze and I gulp, wishing nobody has a superhuman power to hear that big gulp I've done. It feels like eternity, awaiting for his answer; my foot taps the ground impatiently and my fingers tap the table.

"My heart is taken," he answers, his eyes boring into mine as he lets his answer out the public. The girls groan, their chance of getting to know him and hopefully be his girlfriend slips away, being flushed in the toilet.

Having no idea why I'm disappointed – but at the same time I feel gleeful (is it possible?), I shrug it off. At least I attempt to do so. Yeah I'm just threatened because a new guy is taking over the girls' attention. Dumbass, you don't like the attentions of the girls because you only like the attention of your girlfriend, a voice at the back of my head screams at me. My heart beats rapidly, pounding against my chest, and I sigh in annoyance. What the hell is wrong with me?

After he released his answer, he goes back to his seat, which is beside me. All the girls are still eyeing him because let's admit it, Mark Pierson is a very handsome guy. I think that's the reason why I feel threatened. From the corner of my eyes I see him look my way, his eyes directed at me again. I decide to have some balls and just stare right back at him and when I do, I wish I hadn't done so – his eyes are intense, and he's got the most amazing blue eyes ever. I have said that so many times inside my head and I just met him like twenty or thirty minutes ago. My heart stops beating, as if it has lost the capability to do so. My breathing becomes shallow and I feel like every cell of my body is exploding.

"Hi, I'm Mark Pierson." He says to me, offering his hand. My eyes flicker between his hand and his eyes, and I don't know what to do – either shake his head or just stare into his goddamn beautiful f*****g eyes. Deciding that it's better to shake his head than him to notice that I'm staring into his eyes more than I should, I take his hand and shake it – and there it is, I feel the warmth of his hand seeping right through my skin and there's a spark some s**t like that. "May I know yours?"

"Um," I am beyond speechless. f*****g great. "I'm... umf,"

"Your name is Umf?" he asks me, furrowing his brows, then I see the glint in his eyes and know that he's kidding me. I glare at him, pouting and rolling my eyes like a kid.

Huffing, I say my name to him without stuttering and feeling uncomfortable (but I really am!), "Nigel Ulysses."

"Nice name," he says; there's something the way he says my name and I like the way it sounds coming out of his mouth. "It's a pleasure meeting you, Nigel." There! There it is again. The way he says my name is really something!

"Nice to meet you, too, Mark." I mumble, looking away, hoping he didn't see the way my face really burns just from talking to him. There's really something wrong with me.