The Luna They Underestimated

Rowan’s POV My fingers tap an impatient rhythm against my desk, eyes locked on the clock ticking above the chalkboard while I ignore the i***t behind me pelting paper wads at my head. Mr. Harrington rambles through another mind-numbing lecture, oblivious to the fact that literally nobody in this room is paying attention. Half the class is passing notes, the other half whispering, and Sam, apparently, has decided target practice on my skull is a better use of his time. My mouth flattens into a thin line: another day, identical script. At least the school year is winding down. Soon I’ll be home, buried in college pamphlets instead of this circus. Just a few more months of survival, I remind myself constantly, because getting suspended now would mean facing my mother’s wrath and trust me, that’s a fate worse than anything these idiots throw at me. She’s not someone you casually piss off. She’d have my hide before I even finished apologizing. Being her daughter doesn’t earn me any special treatment, either. Senior year, thankfully almost finished, means I’m this close to escaping the daily circus of being our Pack’s resident freak show. Three months left, then freedom, permanent freedom from ever having to look at these people again. My dad holds the Beta position, seriously respected within the Pack. Imagine his reaction discovering his own kid was defective. I’m the freak, the girl born without a wolf. Our school caters exclusively to werewolves, zero humans allowed so you can picture exactly how much fun that makes my daily existence. Basically human, embarrassingly so. And these people never let me forget it, not even for a single day. My parents, though? Genuinely the best. Sure, the Pack treats me like garbage, but my parents never once suggested giving up on me. Always insisting I was simply a late bloomer, that my wolf would eventually show up. I used to buy that explanation too, honestly, right up until now. I’m nearly eighteen prime mate-finding age and still completely wolf-free. Most kids get theirs around thirteen. Missing that milestone is basically the werewolf equivalent of never hitting puberty. Small silver lining: actual puberty happened just fine. Everything else? Total skip. The second that bell rings, I’m first out the door, beelining straight for the cafeteria. Grab a tray, shuffle through the line, snag whatever passes for food today, then retreat to my assigned corner spot. Lucky me, right? That particular seat came with a bonus carving some genius etched “freak” directly into the tabletop, in case I somehow forgot my social ranking here. Conveniently positioned right next to the bathroom, which honestly might qualify as prime cafeteria real estate, especially on Thursdays, when they serve some mystery dish resembling braised steak that tastes nothing like actual beef. Half the school swears the lunch lady’s serving expelled students. Personally, I’m betting on roadkill, maybe rodents. Regardless, that particular Thursday special has sent plenty of students sprinting toward the toilets. After my one unfortunate taste test, I started packing my own lunch every single Thursday without fail. I’ve barely settled into my usual seat, tray in front of me, cafeteria buzzing around me, when the PA system crackles to life with my name. “Rowan Vance, report to the front office, please,” announces the middle-aged secretary in her monotone drawl. Instantly the whole cafeteria erupts into laughter and jeers, food flying my direction as I stand to leave. I keep walking anyway, dumping my tray’s contents and stacking it neatly by the trash. Their mockery barely registers anymore, honestly. Staying invisible is basically my life’s mission, though good luck accomplishing that when your dad’s the Beta and your mom’s one of the Pack’s fiercest warriors. Slinging my bag over one shoulder, I pick a stray piece of lettuce out of my hair courtesy of Thomas’s burger, apparently launched with surprising accuracy earlier. Kid’s have the intelligence of a doorknob but a killer throwing arm, or maybe I’m just an irresistibly easy target, because that burger splattered directly across my scalp. I swipe at the mess, fingers catching something wet on my cheek, and pull back to inspect it. Gross, mayo. I groan, scrubbing at my hair with my sweater sleeve while stomping toward the exit doors. Quick steps carry me down the hallway toward the front office. I shoulder the door open, cutting across the quad toward that familiar brown door, my personal safe zone. Nobody dares start drama near Mrs. Mason’s office; that woman terrifies everyone equally. Halfway across the open courtyard, though, Atticus and her usual sidekicks materialize directly in my path. I roll my eyes hard. What fresh nonsense does she want now? Atticus happens to be the Alpha’s daughter, her brother Orion next in line for that same throne, my two least favorite people on the planet. “Well, well, freak,” Atticus sneers, planting herself firmly in my way. I attempt to sidestep her; she matches the movement perfectly, blocking me again. “What do you want?” I ask flatly. We were actually friends once, back before everyone discovered my wolf-less status turned me into school-wide entertainment. “Nothing much, just figured I’d give you a proper send-off,” she says, smirking, and something about her phrasing makes my brow furrow instantly. “What’s that supposed to mean?” I shake my head, genuinely lost. Her eyes light up with malicious delight, lips curling into that signature taunting smile. “Wait, you haven’t heard?” Her singsong tone practically radiates enjoyment at whatever bomb she’s about to drop. She fans herself dramatically, inspecting her fresh manicure like it’s suddenly fascinating. Never understood why she bothers, considering those nails snap right off every time she shifts anyway. “Just spit it out already, Atticus. I’ve actually got somewhere to be,” I snap, thoroughly done with her games. Mary and Bianca giggle behind her as she steps closer, and I give her a slow once-over, unimpressed. Careful, girl, today is really not the day. I’m covered in burger remnants and disgusting mayonnaise, starving because I never got to actually eat lunch, and now summoned to the office for who-knows-what. I might actually take my mother’s advice for once and give this girl exactly what she deserves.