Chapter 7: Wet daydreams
1021 Words
Knox' pov:
The last class of the afternoon was Tactical training, and the stadium, scorched by the relentless sun all day, still emitted waves of heat.
Tactical training was a pain in the ass. It was like physical education, really, except a hundred times more likely to make you pass out from sheer exhaustion. Before the great attack where hunters infiltrated our borders and laid waste to hundreds of us, it wasn't a compulsory subject. But since then, we've been required to take the course.
The training sessions were designed to push us to our limits physically and mentally. We learned combat techniques, strategic maneuvers, to be in sync with our wolves and hone our reflexes. Endurance and resilience were crucial in a world where our survival depended on our ability to react swiftly and effectively in any situation we find ourselves. The mandatory nature of the course was a constant reminder of the devastating attack that had shaken our entire community.
We were currently gathered on the scorching stadium field, the sweltering heat seemed to intensify my moodiness this afternoon.
Fuck. I just want to go home and bury myself in Elena until f*****g forever.
Last night still played on repeat over and over in my head. Her breathy moans, harsh breaths, the look on her face as I brought her to the brink of ecstasy over and over and over again.
Somebody let out a groan and passed out on the ground behind me.
Our instructor was probably getting it on with the music teacher in one of the abandoned classrooms again, so this time around, we had to join classes with Class 5. Elena's class.
She stuck out like a sore thumb, tall and slender in a sea of shorter, curvier girls. Her silver white hair contrasted against the heads of darker shades, making her stand out even more.
Even after the rigorous training exercise, she had hardly broken a sweat. A feat I considered commendable because most of the guys around here were barely standing on their own two feet.
We were allowed to do activities that fostered team spirit and good sportsmanship. Naturally, I chose basketball because while most of the other girls chose running, badminton or volleyball, I knew that was Elena's favourite sport and that's what she'd probably choose.
Her height and slender figure exuded a sense of grace and confidence. I observed her scanning the group with a hint of impatience on her face, as if she was unaccustomed to the chaos and disorganization around her. It was clear that she was different, both in appearance and demeanor, from the mindless ruckus going on around her.
Behind me, there were a couple of guys guffawing loudly about girls in our class that they'd like to sleep with, with Carl Mickelson as the ring leader, talking the loudest.
To my left, a gaggle of girls were not even trying to hide the fact that they were staring.
"You know it's you they're all excited about, right?" Matteo grinned, walking up to me, referring to the crowd of adoring girls to my left.
I shoved my hands in my pockets and rolled my eyes.
In the few short weeks since I resumed classes in the prestigious private school, courtesy of Anderson, I have grown accustomed to the unprecedented love and affection I was showered with on a daily.
How do I even begin to describe the girls of Blood Bane high? It wouldn't be an exaggeration to say that they resembled a boiling pot of water. I'm serious. The always seemed to be bubbling with excitement, squealing and jumping like they haven't seen a good looking guy since the last decade.
I dragged a lazy gaze to Elena where was standing under a large tree with Ryle, the only guy stupid enough to remain friends with her. If I didn't know that he was more interested in me than he was with her, I'd have ran him off along with the others.
He'd probably find some nice girl (or guy) to date instead of sticking around for someone who wouldn't give him the time of the day. Ryle was tall, slim and had light brown hair. His pale skin was complimenting his tawny brown eyes, and he possessed an air of easy confidence and lazy grace that most boys with privileged childhoods had.
"It's the same old s**t," I shrugged.
Matteo smirked. "So, how does it feel being wanted by everyone?" he said mockingly. "You literally have the power to have first pick of any girl in the school. Why aren't you making use of it?"
Because I only have eyes on one.
At this point I should have realized that Matteo was going to take every chance to tease me. I didn't care for him, didn't care for friends in general, but we were both on the football team and in his head, I'm guessing team spirit didn't just end on the field. He invites me to parties and events and tries to include me as best as he can. I guess I should accept the hand he's stretching out to me but I was more of a lone wolf type of guy. My father's son, through and through.
I gave him a non committal shrug and he finally got the message and slinked off, leaving me the f**k alone.
As if the universe was trying to f**k with me, a blonde who'd just finished her laps around the track began to approach me.
I recognized her. Becca Monterey. One of the revenge f***s I've had when Elena picked that bastard over me. She was beautiful, exactly the kind of girl anyone would notice. Her face was smooth like porcelain. Her hair was cut in a short attractive bob that swished around her neck. The rest of her body was a picture of perfection. The tank top she wore was sleeveless, leaving the perfect expanse of skin above her breast to be admired.
Not me, though. I was over and done with her long before I even got Elena back in bed with me.
- Writer
