4 Brianna, A Week Later

It was official, my morning was ruined. For the past hour or so, I had been searching for my locker without an ounce of luck. No one told me locating a simple locker would be this hard. Despite leaving home almost two hours ago, if I had not hurry, I would miss my first class. This was the reason I would forever hate schools. 

 My tongue slid over my hidden fangs; my eyelids squeezed shut. 

 "Don't worry, Brianna. You have one semester left," I whispered to myself. 

 Then and only then would I get a chance to be myself, to show the world the middle finger. To be happy. 

I took a deep breath and scanned the school map in my grasp. 

With five centuries of knowledge, anyone would have thought I would be more prepared. However, I was not. During the past semi-centennial, the educational system changed along with everything else, making it difficult to keep abreast of it all. 

If it had not been for my gift of bad luck, I would never have endured another minute pretending to care. 

On the school map, once the student entered the school building there were two halls: one on the left and the other on the right. Along the walls of those halls were storage closets. They were similar to lockers used by high schoolers, but had more space and were taller in length. Brian mentioned those storage compartments were implemented for students who were boarded. However, as time went by all students, whether boarding in one of the dorm houses or those who traveled daily received a key for one. 

Though Redwood University was praised for the feature, locating a single storage compartment was a pain in the butt. The mere fact that thousands of students attended this institution, plus the divided two halls made looking for one of those storage closets seemed like searching for a needle in a haystack. 

My gaze flickered from the useless map to the two rows of lockers embedded in the walls. Students plastered themselves along the line. Various noises and scents swam amongst us. I knew a spell that could help me locate the storage container, but it was too late now. 

The right side of the hall was all searched through, I turned to do the same to the left side. However, due to my abrupt turn, I bumped into something, or should I say someone. A mixture of scents invaded my nostrils; a sudden dizziness fell over me. I tilted my head to the ceiling, desperate for fresh air. Several grasps echoed around us, after which came silence. 

I cringed when liquid slid down my chest. The same liquid had to have soaked through my blouse to get to that part of my body. My perry-winkle blouse. The same blouse Brian bought me as a welcome home present. 

With my breath held, I made a slow glance at the garment. A sigh parted my lips when I discovered the liquid was bottled water. The drumming of a heartbeat increased. Even though I was relieved, my attacker seemed to be having a panic attack. 

"Oh my gosh, I am so so sorry. I didn't mean to. I should have been looking where I was going," she rambled, her voice tapping on my eardrums. 

I was not sure where she got a small cloth from, but she used it to dab at my chest. To be honest, I was not sure what she was doing either, whether it was daring the wet spot to dry or ruining my blouse. All I knew was the constant wiping had caused the wet spot to stick to my breast. 

Humans. Annoying, yet amazing little creatures. They never ceased to amuse me. 

The town of Redwood was notorious for hosting them. Though they were feeble little things, they were well praised for their brilliance. Therefore, Redwood welcomed them. Of course, they were inspected and studied for the first few months of their arrival, to tell if they were capable of handling an environment with multiple species. If they were not, then they would be stripped of their memories and the desire to reside in Redwood, and sent on their way. 

It was a harsh reality which kept us hidden from the outside world. A town where we could be our true selves without interference. Or so it should have been. 

It appeared this wild-haired beauty must be one of the fortunate humans who remained in our town. 

A slow smile tilted my lips. "Don't worry, love. It's okay. I —"

"Please, don't hate me. I know I can be a little clumsy sometimes," she continued, ignoring me. 

"No, it's fine. I—"

"Or maybe all the time. But, I'll try not to bump into you ever again. I'm rea—"

"Please, stop," I gritted out, palm raised, illustrating my annoyance. 

She winced, retracted her limb, and took a step back. Her gaze swept the room full of spectators. 

Great! The icing on the cake of a terrible morning. 

I vacuumed another breath of fresh air before I attempted to resolve the situation. "Your apology is accepted. It was also my fault for bumping into you. So, you can leave now."

She opened her mouth but clamped it back shut when I arched an eyebrow. 

Whispers then found my ears. My head snapped in the direction of the other students. A silent thank you was uttered when I realized we were no longer the center of attention. However, I too was swept away at the discovery of where their interest went. 

I stood in awe as a small group of men strolled down the hall. They walked in the design of a pyramid. It was obvious they were of importance by the way they hogged all the spotlight. It was also evident they were a part of the football team by the matching dark blue jackets they wore. A fang and claw on each side of the front zipper with Redwood embedded under each imprint. 

 As the group treaded, one or two dispersed to what seemed to be their locker. With time, the triangle got shorter and shorter. Each male nodded to the guy at the head of the pyramid as they stepped away from the group. 

"Who are those?" I whispered to Miss. Rambler. 

She released a dreamy sigh. "Those are the wolves. The first half of the football team." 

"Hmmm." It made sense. Brian had mentioned Redwood University consisted of two halves of everything. 

"The super hot guy in the front is Kyle, the co-captain for the team. The other two guys to each side of him are his best friends and advisors."

Advisors? Interesting. 

"Kyle is cute. Yet, a nightmare. No one messes with him."

As always, the big man was often the scoundrel. Regardless, the name sounded familiar. 

Kyle? 

"Kyle, " I repeated aloud. The word was heavy on my tongue. The name swirled in my brain. Then it clicked. "Oh, snap. Kyle as in Kyle Anderson?" My tone was higher than intended. 

"Yep," came the confirmation with the P being popped. 

My eyes were glued to the men. 

Darn, he had gotten hotter than I last saw him. The four decades had done him wonders. In all honesty, he was always hot. The tall platinum blonde hair he used to sport was now cut and styled in a slick superman style. His face and body structure got more mature. Thicker muscles with a less knight in shining armor look. If anything, he appeared as if he was the villain in a girls' story. The prince charming vibe no longer existed. The same characteristic which had drawn the younger me to him. When I was naïve and stupid. When daydreams of Kyle Anderson sweeping me away on his horse was a glorious wish.  

Too bad it all died when I saw the light. Relationships prevented a person from being their true selves. I would rather be staked with a dagger than lose who I was. Therefore, I killed my prince-charming and rescued myself. 

Even so, it did not stop me from admiring beauty. 

Kyle's luscious lips were curled in a half-smile. He nodded and greeted his fans who were scattered at the entrance to the right side of the hall, praising their king. 

I almost laughed when I saw a guy near to the left side of the hall glared at him after he winked at his girlfriend. 

Men. 

"Oh, no."