Fated Mates, Destined To Be Enemies.

Chapter 15. Class Project.

Hazel.

My first cheerleading rehearsal was nothing like I had imagined.

For one, I had forgotten how exhausting it was. For another, I had forgotten how much I loved it.

The moment the coach blew the whistle, my body seemed to remember everything my mind had forgotten.

Stretching, jumps, turns, balance and flexibility.

I moved with the girls across the field, following the routine the coach demonstrated. I could feel my muscles warming up, my breathing becoming heavier as we repeated the same movements.

And, as usual, the hockey team was practicing on the other side of the field.

I tried not to look, I really did, but every few minutes, my heart and my eyes betrayed me.

Especially when I felt someone watching me. I glanced across the field.

Tristan!

He was standing with his teammates, hockey stick in hand, but his attention wasn't entirely on the game.

His eyes were on me, and our eyes met.

He smiled.

My heart skipped, but I immediately looked away.

A few minutes later, I caught myself looking again. He was still watching.

I quickly turned back to the girls I was supposed to be rehearsing with.

“Stop it, Hazel.” I whispered to myself and tapped my forehead lightly.

I was supposed to be careful.

After everything that had happened with my wolf, the last thing I needed was to draw attention to myself. And after Uncle Mendez had warned me repeatedly about controlling my emotions, I couldn't afford to lose control simply because a handsome boy looked at me.

Unfortunately, my problem wasn't only Tristan.

"Having fun?"

I turned.

Seraphina was standing beside me.

Her smile didn't reach her eyes. "Yes." I answered cautiously.

She stepped closer. "Then let me make something very clear."

I frowned.

She lowered her voice so only I could hear. "Stay away from Tristan."

My stomach tightened. "I don't know what you're talking about."

"Don't play innocent with me Taco."

Her eyes flicked toward Tristan before returning to mine. "I've been watching you."

I swallowed.

She leaned closer. "You're a slut."

My eyes widened. "What?"

"You heard me."

I looked around. The other girls were still warming up, and the coach was speaking to one of the senior cheerleaders a few feet away.

Seraphina smiled. "Whatever game you're playing, stop it. Tristan is my boyfriend."

"I'm not playing any games."

"Then stay away from him."

"I haven't done anything."

She suddenly shoved both hands against my shoulders.

I stumbled backward.

My wolf stirred instantly, I wanted to shift immediately and tear the annoying b***h into pieces.

A low growl vibrated somewhere deep inside me, and I clenched my fists.

I forced myself to breathe.

Seraphina noticed my reaction and smirked. "That's what I thought."

She walked away before I could respond.

I stood there for a moment, staring after her. My heart was beating too fast. Not because of her, but because of the wolf.

I could feel it moving beneath my skin, restless and irritated.

I closed my eyes and took a slow breath, to calm my wolf down just the way Uncle Mendez thought me.

By the time practice ended, I had managed to settle it.

Barely!

***

After cheerleading rehearsal, I headed to my literature class with my bag hanging over one shoulder.

The university had arranged a collaborative project between some first-year and second-year literature students, so we were going to have a combined class.

I walked into the lecture hall and immediately noticed how crowded it was.

There were students from both years scattered across the seats.

I found a place toward the middle and sat down. I was taking out my notebook when the lecturer entered.

Everyone quieted.

Then the door opened again, I looked up.

Tristan walked in.

My eyes widened. What was he doing here? Why did he have to follow me everywhere for God's sake?

He wasn't even a literature student he was a science major.

A few students immediately started whispering.

The lecturer looked at him with surprise. "Mr. Blackwood?"

Tristan smiled. "Good afternoon, sir."

"Are you lost?"

The entire class laughed, they were all so please the have ‘the Tristan Blackwood’ in their class.

Tristan chuckled. "No, sir. I was actually hoping you wouldn't mind if I attended your class occasionally."

There were a few more giggles around the room.

Someone behind me whispered, "Of course he can."

Another girl laughed.

The lecturer shook his head, amused.

"You're welcome, Mr. Blackwood. But don't come here to distract my students."

More laughter.

Tristan raised both hands. "I promise." He smiled awkwardly. “To try.”

The whole class burst into a roaring laugh.

He looked around the room, then his eyes found Seraphina.

His smile widened, like a boyish smile. I felt a sting in my heart, he must really love her.

He walked over and took the empty seat beside her.

I immediately looked down at my notebook, I could feel my heart beating faster.

I didn't want to look at him. Well, not after what Seraphina had said.

But curiosity got the better of me, so I lifted my eyes slightly.

Tristan was looking directly at me.

He raised his hand and gave me a small wave, but I stared at him for a second, then I looked away.

I didn't wave back.

His smile disappeared for a moment.

I felt a little guilty, but what was I supposed to do?

Seraphina had practically threatened me less than an hour ago.

I wasn't going to give her another reason to come after me.

The lecturer began the lesson and asked us to open page 75 of our textbooks, but for some awkward reason, I couldn't find that page in my book. Then I remembered that the particular page had been slightly hanging from the binding. When I was in the corridor the other day, I had thrown some things into the trash can, and I could swear that I had mistakenly squeezed the fallen page and tossed it into the bin.

I opened my notebook and started taking notes, but something strange was happening.

Tristan wasn't paying attention.

At first, I thought he was simply bored, then I noticed what he was doing.

His eyes kept moving around the room, from one student to another.

Across the desks, toward the windows, then back toward the students.

He would occasionally lean forward slightly, as though trying to catch something.

His expression was unusually focused, almost tense.

I frowned.

What was wrong with him?

He looked like he was searching for something, or trying to perceive something I couldn't.

A few minutes later, he rubbed his nose subtly, and then he looked toward the back of the classroom.

I stared at him.

Maybe he was sick, perhaps he had a cold.

That would explain why he kept sniffing.

I returned my attention to the lecture.

The lecturer continued explaining the project we would be working on.

"We'll be dividing you into groups," he announced. "Each group will consist of students from both years."

A few students groaned.

"Don't complain," he said. "You will learn more by working together."

He began calling out names.

One group after another was formed, and I listened quietly, waiting for mine.

Then…

"Seraphina Vale." Seraphina raised her hand.

"Yes, sir."

"Group four."

She gathered her things and moved toward the students already assigned to the group.

I didn't think much of it.

Until the lecturer called my name.

"Hazel Gonzales."

I raised my hand. "Yes, sir."

"Group four."

My stomach dropped.

I looked toward the group, Seraphina was already there.

Our eyes met.

Her expression immediately hardened. Of all the people I could have been paired with, the lecturer had to pair me with the torn in my flesh.

I picked up my notebook and walked over. "Great," she muttered when I sat down.

I ignored her.

The lecturer continued giving instructions.

We were supposed to analyze a section of the assigned text and prepare a presentation for the following week.

Everyone started discussing what part they wanted to handle.

I opened my notebook.

Then I noticed Tristan again, he wasn't participating in the lecture.

He was looking around, his gaze moving from one student to another.

Then suddenly, he stood.

He walked toward a student that sat close to me.

"Hey," he said casually. "Do you have the recommended literature textbook?"

The student looked confused.

"Yeah."

"Can I see it?"

"Sure."

The student handed it to him.

Tristan flipped through the pages, his sharp eyes moved quickly across the text.

Then he closed it. "Thanks Man."

He returned it and approached another student.

"Do you have the same textbook?"

The student nodded.

Again, Tristan took it, he searched through the pages.

I watched him curiously.

What the hell was he doing?

I leaned slightly toward one of my group members. "Why is he asking everyone for their books?"

The girl shrugged. "I have no idea."

I looked at Tristan again.

He was now standing beside a desk, flipping through another student's textbook.

His eyes scanned the classroom again.

For the first time, I noticed something strange in his expression.

It wasn't boredom or curiosity, it was the look of someone hunting for a clue.

I frowned.

What exactly are you looking for, Tristan Blackwood?