The school loomed ahead, a sprawling building of red bricks and tall windows. Its sheer size made my chest tighten, but it was the sea of students swarming around the entrance that nearly stopped me in my tracks.
They moved in groups,, talking, laughing, shouting—sounds and movement that reminded me too much of the city streets. My grip on the straps of my bag tightened, the weight of it unfamiliar. Back home, a bag meant something you could carry on your back for miles. This one felt flimsy, more for decoration than survival.
I glanced at Grandfather, who stood beside me with his arms crossed. His eyes scanned the crowd, sharp and calculating as always. "Remember," he said, his voice low enough that only I could hear. "No shifting. No unnecessary attention. Keep your head down."
I nodded quickly, even though the knot in my stomach told me it wouldn't be that easy.
Grandfather clapped me on the shoulder once, not gently… "You'll survive."
Then he turned and walked away, his truck growling to life moments later. I watched it disappear down the street, a small part of me wishing I could chase after it.
A bell rang somewhere in the building, sharp and piercing. The sound sent a jolt through me, and I froze as the students around me suddenly began moving faster, streaming into the school like a herd of restless animals.
I took a breath and followed them, literally keeping my head down like Grandfather had said.
Inside, the noise grew louder, bouncing off the smooth floors and high ceilings. Lockers slammed, sneakers squeaked against the tiles, and voices overlapped in a relentless buzz. The air smelled strange—not fresh like the forest, but artificial and stale, with hints of sweat and something sweet I couldn't place.
I looked around, trying to figure out where to go. Students walked past me without a second glance, their expressions ranging from bored to annoyed. One girl bumped into me, barely sparing me a glare before disappearing into the crowd.
"Hey, you lost?"
The voice came from my left. I turned to see a boy about my age leaning against a row of lockers, his arms crossed and a smirk tugging at his lips. He was dressed in a jacket with a bright logo I didn't recognize, and his hair was messy in a way that looked intentional.
I hesitated. "Uh... maybe."
The boy's smirk widened. "Figured. You're standing in the middle of the hall like you've never seen one before."
I glanced at the lockers, their identical doors stretching endlessly in both directions. "I've... seen them." I'll try not to behave like someone who just fell out of the sky into an unknown planet.
"Right." He raised an eyebrow. "You're new, huh?"
I nodded.
"Well, good luck. You'll need it." With that, he pushed off the lockers and disappeared into the flow of students.
I stared after him, unsure if he'd been trying to help or make fun of me. Probably both.
The bell rang again, louder this time, and I flinched. Students began moving faster, some running to make it to their destinations. My chest tightened as I realized I had no idea where I was supposed to go.
I scanned the hallway, hoping to find some sort of sign or clue to point me in the right direction. Instead, I found myself caught in the current of students, their hurried steps pushing me along until I had no choice but to follow.
The hallway branched into several directions, each more crowded than the last. My instincts itched to turn around and bolt for the exit, but I pushed the thought down. Blend in. Keep moving.
I glanced at a piece of paper crumpled in my hand—the schedule Grandfather had shoved at me before we left the apartment. The letters and numbers blurred together as I tried to make sense of them. Room 103, first floor. How hard could it be? I'll always remain grateful to my mother who made sure I was able to read and write.
A locker slammed to my right, startling me. I turned sharply, bumping into someone carrying a stack of books.
"Hey!" the girl shouted as the books tumbled to the ground with a loud thud.
"Sorry!" I crouched down immediately, fumbling to pick them up.
The girl sighed dramatically. "Great. Just great."
I glanced up, meeting her narrowed eyes. She had dark hair pulled into a tight ponytail, and her expression was a mix of annoyance and mild curiosity.
"I didn't mean to—"
"Yeah, I figured," she said, snatching one of the books from my hands. "You're new, aren't you?"
I nodded, unsure if that was a safe thing to admit.
She stood, brushing off her jeans. "Room?"
"Uh... 103."
She raised an eyebrow. "First floor. This way." She gestured with her head and started walking before I could even thank her.
I scrambled to my feet, clutching the schedule, and followed her through the maze of hallways.
The room was smaller than I expected, with rows of desks facing a large whiteboard. Students were already seated, their chatter filling the air as I slipped in behind the girl.
"There you go," she said, waving vaguely at the room. Then, without another word, she disappeared into a seat near the back.
I stood there, unsure of where to go.
"Take a seat anywhere," a sharp voice said.
I turned to see a tall woman standing by the desk at the front of the room. Her thin glasses perched on the edge of her nose, and she was scribbling something on the whiteboard. "Quickly, please. You're holding up the class."
Heat rose to my face as I shuffled to an empty desk near the middle. The chair creaked loudly as I sat, drawing a few glances from the other students.
The teacher—Ms. Clarke, according to the name scrawled on the board—began her lecture, her voice cutting through the noise. I tried to focus, but the room felt too loud, too crowded. The fluorescent lights buzzed faintly overhead, and the faint smell of cheap perfume mixed with pencil shavings made my nose itch.
By the time the bell rang, my head was pounding. Students rushed for the door, their chatter filling the air again.
I stayed seated, trying to process everything. This was only the first class. How was I supposed to survive the rest of the day?
"Hey, you."
I looked up to see the girl from earlier standing by my desk, her arms crossed.
"You look like you just got run over," she said bluntly.
"I feel like it," I muttered, rubbing the back of my neck.
She smirked. "Welcome to high school. It doesn't get better."
I wasn't sure if she was joking or serious, but before I could ask, she was gone again, disappearing into the crowd. She didn't even tell me her name! Or maybe I was supposed to ask. But how do I ask when she didn't even give me the chance as she's always zooming away.
The day dragged on, each class blurring into the next. By lunchtime, I was exhausted and more confused than ever. The cafeteria was a cavernous room filled with long tables and the deafening roar of hundreds of students talking at once.
I hesitated at the entrance, unsure where to sit. The idea of eating in this chaos felt impossible, but skipping lunch wasn't an option—not with my stomach growling loud enough to rival the noise around me.
I grabbed a tray and got in line, my eyes scanning the strange assortment of food. Everything smelled artificial, like it had been cooked days ago and reheated just before being served.
When I reached the end of the line, I found myself holding a tray of something brown and mushy with a side of limp vegetables. My appetite disappeared instantly, but I forced myself to take it and moved to the nearest empty seat I could find.
As I picked at the food, my ears caught snippets of conversation, no. Not snippets, I could actually ear their discussions with my ability from the tables around me. Although, I was more sensory with smells and my dad was the one with enhanced hearing abilities. But as a shifter, I had more advantage over these humans. I could hear Names, jokes, complaints about teachers—it was a language I only half understood.
"Mind if I sit here?"
The voice made me look up.
A girl stood there, holding a tray of her own. Her blonde hair fell in loose waves, and her eyes were bright, curious, but not unkind.
"Uh... sure," I said awkwardly, gesturing to the seat across from me.
She smiled and sat down. "You're new, right?"
I nodded, swallowing hard.
"I'm Aria," she said, offering a hand.
I stared at it for a second before shaking it, unsure if I was supposed to say something back.
"And you are...?"
"Oh. Kyle."
Her smile widened. "Nice to meet you, Kyle."
I nodded again, too aware of how awkward I must look.
"So," she said, picking at her food, "how are you liking it here so far?"
"It's... loud," I said, which made her laugh.
"You're not wrong."
The conversation fizzled after that, mostly because I had no idea what to say. Aria didn't seem to mind, though. She ate quietly, occasionally glancing around the cafeteria.
When the bell rang again, she stood, tossing her tray in the trash. "See you around, Kyle." and I watched her disappear into the crowd.
I think I'll need to take a course on social interaction or whatever the name might be. I can't continue like this.
After tossing my tray in the trash like I saw Aria did, I moved out and the cafeteria door swung shut behind me, the noise fading as I stepped into the crowded hallway. My focus was on not tripping over anyone or anything, I wove through the flow of students.
"Move faster!"
The voice came from behind, sharp and rude. Before I could react, a foot connected with the back of my leg, sending me stumbling forward.
I caught myself just before I hit the lockers, turning sharply to see who had done it and ready to bounce on whoever that might have been but remembering where I was, I held my impulsive instinct.
It was the boy from earlier—the one who'd smirked at me in the hallway. He stood a few steps back, a smug grin plastered across his face.
"Watch it," I said, my voice low, trying to keep my composure.
"Or what?" he shot back, crossing his arms. Then, with a sneer, he added, "Move faster, you werewolf."
My blood ran cold.
I stared at him, my heart pounding in my chest. Did he just—how did he—?