Another day at school
1151 Words
“Olivia! Time for school!”
Her mother’s voice floated in through the thin c***k of her door, soft but resolute like mist curling through an open window. Olivia stirred under her blanket, groaning. Her wolf spirit rustled inside her, not quite awake, not quite asleep. The part of her that wasn’t human never liked mornings.
“I’m up,” she muttered into her pillow, even though she wasn’t.
The door creaked open anyway.
Her mother stepped in, balancing a steaming mug of tea in one hand and a look of amused disapproval in the other. “Lying to a woman with ears like mine. Bold move.”
Olivia squinted at her. “You try waking up to face high school again. Feels like a punishment.”
Her mom set the mug on the nightstand and ruffled Olivia’s hair. “It's not a punishment. It's survival training.”
“Same difference.”
“Drink that. Shower. Dress. No claws this time.”
“Ugh, that was one time.” Olivia sat up, rubbing her eyes. “And he deserved it.”
Her mom smirked. “No arguments here. Still, let’s try for a peaceful second day.”
She left with a soft click of the door, and Olivia stared at the rising sun through her window. She could already feel the storm in her chest the way her wolf always woke up faster than she did. Hungry. On edge. Watching.
But she would survive today.
She had to.
By the time she reached the gates of platform High, dressed in her charcoal hoodie, faded jeans, and scuffed boots, the student body had already formed their usual social clusters. The smell of over-sprayed cologne, fresh gossip, and yesterday’s cafeteria food hit her like a wall.
And so did the whispers.
“There she is.”
“Olivia nightshade right? The new girl.”
“Did you see her eyes? They’re unreal.”
“She’s, like… scary-pretty.”
“She looks like she bites.”
She did. Once. But they didn’t need to know that.
Olivia kept walking, shoulders squared, expression carved in stone. She didn’t flinch. She didn’t correct them. She let the rumors swirl around her like fog. Her wolf preened under the attention, teeth bared in quiet amusement.
Then he passed by.
Reed Halston.
His presence was like static electric and effortless. He walked down the hallway with his varsity jacket slung over one shoulder, talking casually with two other boys. Every girl in a ten-foot radius seemed to freeze.
And Olivia?
She barely glanced at him.
Except… he looked at her.
Their eyes met. For the briefest second. She felt nothing but the scrape of silence between them. No spark. No smile. No curious smirk. Just… observation.
Then he looked away.
And kept walking.
Like she was wallpaper.
And something about that the nothingness of it dug under her skin.
She wasn’t disappointed. No, not that.
She was irritated.
Which was worse.
“Hey!” a bright voice chirped beside her, cutting through the ice.
Olivia turned just in time to see Lila jogging up with a hopeful smile and two red apples in hand.
“I brought one for you. Organic.” She held it out like an offering to a forest spirit.
Olivia took it. “Thanks.”
Lila fell into step beside her, pink sneakers scuffing the floor. “How was your first night? You didn’t run away screaming. That’s good.”
“I considered it,” Olivia said flatly. “But I figured the forest wouldn’t have Wi-Fi.”
Lila giggled. “You’re funny in a scary kind of way. Like Wednesday Addams but less stabby.”
“You don’t know me that well.”
“I’m an optimist.”
A small smile tugged at Olivia’s mouth, uninvited.
***
The first two periods passed in a blur of notes, stares, and half-whispered rumors. Olivia kept to herself, absorbing everything voices, footsteps, subtle power dynamics. The wolf in her never truly rested. It sniffed out weakness, hunger, dominance. And boredom.
Until third period.
Mr. Rivers, the only teacher with a spine strong enough to make Olivia pay attention, paused mid-lecture as someone knocked on the classroom door.
“Ah,” he said, glancing toward it. “Looks like we’ve got another addition to the platform circus.”
The door opened.
And Olivia’s entire body froze.
A boy stepped inside.
Tall. Lean. Dark eyes like dusk after rain. His hair was a tangled mess of curls, half-tamed by wind. There was a silence in him. A quiet that wasn’t shy — it was primal. Ancient.
Raine Thorn.
Olivia knew it before he spoke.
She smelled the truth on him before anyone else did.
He wasn’t fully human.
He was like her.
Half-wolf.
Her breath hitched, so subtle no one noticed — but her wolf did. It growled softly inside her, confused, alert.
“This is Raine Thorn,” Mr. Rivers announced. “He’s transferring in from... out of state.”
Out of the woods, more like, Olivia thought.
Raine’s eyes scanned the room, slow and unhurried. Then they locked onto hers.
There.
That pull.
Instant.
Dangerous.
She looked away first.
“There’s a seat by the—” the teacher began, but Raine was already walking.
And he sat.
Right next to her.
Their arms didn’t touch. But she felt him. Every inch of him. His silence was deafening. Not a threat, not yet — but not safe, either.
She didn’t speak.
Neither did he.
But the wolves inside them stirred, sniffing the air, searching for old truths.
At lunch, Lila found Olivia again, sitting at the far end of the cafeteria under the window.
“Why aren’t you eating?” she asked, nudging her gently.
“Not hungry.”
“You’re staring at your tray like it owes you money.”
Olivia gave a faint, tired smile.
Across the room, Raine sat alone, still silent, still watching.
“He’s intense,” Lila said softly. “That new guy. You know him?”
“No.”
“You looked at each other like you did.”
Olivia didn’t answer. She couldn’t. Her heart was pounding, not from attraction, but from something worse.
Recognition.
Then—another shift.
Across the cafeteria, Reed glanced her way.
And this time, he paused.
It was only a second. But it wasn’t nothing.
That night, Olivia stood at her bedroom window again, moonlight slanting across her face. The clouds were thick, but the sky still pulsed with energy.
Below her skin, her wolf stirred restlessly.
Two boys.
One had power, reputation, charm and no fear of her.
The other had something older. Something raw. Something that knew her before they’d even spoken.
She didn’t want either.
Didn’t need either.
But she could already feel the strings pulling tight.
And in the distance faint, but growing louder the howl of fate was calling.
- Writer
