Nathaniel led me out by hand. It was warm, engulfing, the type of feeling that would eat away at your insecurities until nothing was left. What a bunch of crock. If only I could trust him, then maybe this wouldn't be a pack of lies my hormones were telling me as my heart jerked me all over the place.

His boys were settling down to eat as we walked in—which means I doubt it took him even 10 minutes to bring us both to release. Part of me had to laugh at how all these stories emphasize long hours devoted to sex when all the best bits could take so little time. Realizations of a former virgin.

I shook myself out of my amusement. I was about to become the public victim of a player that wasn't aware that I knew I was played—effectively, playing him. I couldn't act very well, but I had to at least keep a hold of my tongue. The things racing through my mind that I wanted out my mouth weren't a joke and could upend everything. I needed to be dumb at this moment. Like I hadn't been stupid the whole fucking time.

"Hey Rick, got it done."

The dark-haired god that I had told myself I'd enjoy more before the experience stood and looked at me, taking in my ruffled appearance. "Standard bet?"

Standard fee, ya pimp.

Nathaniel nodded. Rick placed a hundred dollar bill in his hand, right under my nose before sitting back down to lunch—I meant nothing to him. It looked so small, like monopoly money. The whole cafeteria went silent at the exchange. Everyone had seen it before, but they wanted to watch me squirm.

Damned if I can fake that. Where's my cut? Do I not get paid for selling my virginity to your stupid bets? I couldn't say that—I'd gain their attention. That, and it's not wholly true. I'd at least spend $20 to repeat that ride. $100 would be pushing it for a quickie. It could get expensive, like that. Right then, I was just a trophy, proof of their dominance. Damn, now I see why these girls chase them so much. Would it be worth pack politics to get regularly laid?

I mean, I weighed all that before I made this choice...but I didn't know the temptation. I regretted my decision to be a 1-and-done. Not like I could walk it back, either. Throwing myself at him now wasn't going to gain what I already missed.

One thing I did have to ask to stay in character was, "Are we still on for tonight, Nathan?"

This man who gave me such a great time had experience cutting to the core. "I got what I was after. Why would I waste any more time on you?"

It stung. I expected it to sting. That didn't stop me from wincing. I wasn't required to say anything more if I had any pride. Not that this stopped most other girls from going nuts, poor things.

As much as it hurts, there's freedom in an informal rejection. I couldn't keep the small smile from my face after I turned away from them, and went into line to get lunch. I fought against looking around to find someone new for myself—surprised myself with that urge. Where the hell did that come from? I'm not a can of Pringles.

Outside of Nathaniel's group, someone could figure out that I got what I wanted from this exchange. It wasn't bright of me, and I'm sure it was the cause of quite a few guys hitting on me after this point. But what I didn't see was Stephen—the redhead I wasn't facing. He wasn't self-absorbed enough to ignore the spring in my step that had been missing when I stood by my fuck's side. I swear, I wasn't outright skipping. That damned wolf is meticulous.

~~~

After classes, I waited until the main building's Janitor put away his gear and left. Mr. Mosely was still on campus, buried somewhere in the band room, and he was usually the one to do the last lockdown. The knob was almost completely bent off the closet where I had so much fun earlier that day. I took all the handles off the brooms and mops and moved them into a locker that had been left open as a shrine to the dead. It would take him a while to find his missing poles. Then I walked home, alone and forgotten by everyone.

It was such a lonely feeling.

~~~

A week went by, and I had to deal with Nathaniel flaunting girls in my face. Not that this was any different than before we did it, except he was constantly checking to see if I noticed. It was that intentional searching out for my eyes to lock our gazes together that pissed me off. Stupid primitive.

In most classes, I resorted to moving to the front row. Either the teacher never kept an assigned seat or they liked me enough to move me when I asked. Not because it hurt, but because I still had goals that didn't involve getting further entangled with the pack. The two I couldn't do this in, I studied at home because my concentration sucked as much as his face. I didn't need As. I need to graduate.

But that was it. Just one guy sniffing around enough to intimidate others into staying out of it. Even that was starting to fade as the days went by like I was shifting from one to torment to an afterthought.

The part that killed me was that he was so damned slow to start ignoring me. A smaller piece that wanted to get laid again hated him, like wanting to salt his meals with silver or stake him with a wooden pole, anything. I had some strange fantasies after our first time.

That's about how long it took for my handiwork to be found. We already had several announcements over the missing supplies, and a replacement of the lock—which the boys immediately broke back off. New handles were brought in, but none of that clicked for these guys. The brochures for N. Idiot H's Stud service started showing up around campus, complete with instructions to meet at the dead's locker. It was a whole different hall than where mine was, and for a time I could go to my own and not be crowded by that idiot's conquests. All in all, I'd say I've won.

~~~

My private life continued on as work-filled as ever. I'm kind of a minor YouTube celebrity. Not me, particularly, my work is. I make crafting how-to videos, where all you can see is my hands and dabble in stop-motion filming.

Good thing my mom works for a dollar store, as I get almost all this junk on discount. Made my start on mere pennies on the dollar buys. With ad revenue, I make more than I would working anywhere in town. That and it kept me home, away from the crazy people that run this place. If I keep it up, I'll be able to self-support myself. I haven't quite made it yet. That's why that dumbass' brochure was so simple to make.

My next big project is not easy, and not for the channel. I'm making a tiny house in an old short school bus, something I can pull out of here in. I want to be able to take everything with me in one go. Dad allowed me to park it in the second driveway but was starting to complain about it being an eyesore. That was after he bitched about not wanting to see boys hanging around that bus. I almost picked up a cutout of a half-naked wrestler to put in that window, when I saw one for sale at the local bookstore, but I don't need that type of drama in my life.

The problem is that I'm a crafter, not a mechanic, so I am going to have to take some form of shop next year. I'll have all the free time, going in for half-days. The thing does work, just that I'd be at everyone else's mercy if I can't do it all myself.

I don't dare drive it to school, as it would draw too much attention. I would have had them damn wolves on me faster. But I could bring dad his boys on a bus...

A junk vehicle in the front yard on the wrong side of town? No one would care. But showing it off could get around. That's some independent girl not looking for a ride from those idiots? Yeah. Rather have that sit in my parent's spare driveway, give them no reason to put me in my place. Nothing like breaking a free spirit, right?

It wouldn't be guys at school I'd have to worry about—it's their remaining fathers. The previous generation was still in control, and is the reason I have been careful about leaving. I don't think Nathaniel would care, at all, whether I stayed or not. I want him to either care or quit fucking teasing me.

I don't want to know what old men are capable of.

Sometimes I wonder how the pack would react if they knew my YouTube handle. That curiosity was exactly why I held that part so close to me, never letting it out. I didn't even post the making of the pamphlet, although my boobs might have brought in more views, as the chosen still shot. Hey, they were in a bra, nothing showed but a carrot.

Or I could have been more outgoing at school. Then I might have had a boyfriend to hurt by the bet. I'm now fast losing that anonymity, anyway. People saw me pull through a pretty damn humiliating shitstorm with some quiet strength...

I learned something about guys. It's not only girls that want their self-worth viewed through the lens of the powerful. Guys want that too. At least they want to own unique finds. Same behaviors. So there were guys that weren't considered pack that were stopping me at my locker for small talk, and a few notes in class, where I'd never been bothered before. So much for redirecting traffic. I got the mopey girls gone and now have sweaty nervous guys.

The thing that stopped me was I couldn't tell which ones wanted to go on a date, and which ones were hoping I'd be easy for them, too. If it had been notes from someone I somewhat wanted, I'd have gone out with one of them, then. Who cares if he wants in my pants when I kind of want in his, you know?

All that would have interfered with my work, even if I was getting laid as compensation.

~~~

I lost. That win I thought I had with the prank? Now everyone is flooding back to watch my moves. Fucking rubberneckers. Probably karma for messing with the dead's locker.

About a week after my short-lived success, the pack began to change. Stephen shifted, leaving the first to meet his mate and the wolf that fathers this generation's firstborn as still MIA. Traditionally, the first to do any of the three was Alpha—since nobody had little bastards running around or devoted themselves to a girl, Stephen's shift gave him dominance over the rest.

They all bowed to his demands—it was surreal. While brilliant, he was a mild-mannered guy, not one who I'd place first, more ideally as a Beta.

Until things changed again, they would all answer to him. No one could cross him, except for the previous Alpha. He'd need his own Beta and Gamma to temper his dumb decisions.

He had only one demand. I had to sit with them at lunch. Damn it, I'm not even getting laid for this publicity. This guy is the damn reason my locker is crowded again! I thought it was Nathaniel's job to fuck everything up. I didn't sleep with their damn Alpha to earn this!

I'm not pack, I can't truly be forced to behave as a wolf, not with whatever powers Stephen has wielded so far, but the guys could make it miserable to misbehave. Every day for a week, I was dragged to their table against my will until I gave in. Now I voluntarily sit with their dumb asses. It's too much attention to fight them. I should have given up at this point. It was too late to be free, but I was a stubborn one, hoping against the inevitable.

It was all the worse when I sat down outside the cafeteria. He sent two to get me, that time. They carried me back in. Rick had enough and threatened to put me over his shoulder and give me a public spanking if I kept giving them trouble. How tempting, and I didn't even like this one. Exactly what I didn't need.

My being there ramped up Nathaniel's behavior. Was 10 minutes of my life worth this? I'm sure my look was one of pure contempt, no matter how much I fought against it. Since nothing was working, I eventually concluded that I'd have to unsheathe the claws, if you will.

So, out comes another girl for this lunch, half grinding on the guy while I'm trying to eat. My stomach had been off for a while now, but watching that made it worse. "Nathan, stop insulting that girl's intelligence."

"What?!" They both yelled at me together. I almost winced—Stephen did, visibly. I had to roll my eyes—perhaps it was only insulting mine because neither of these people was acting like the brightest bulb in the box.

"Look, I'm well aware that you've slept around since you first figured out what your dick was for. I wasn't blind back then, I didn't give a fuck. Now, while I wouldn't mind doing it again, it was maybe 10 minutes of my life. Maybe, just maybe, glancing at the girl you had a quickie with while making out with another is stupid. I mean, seriously, it makes you look desperate, and it makes anything I try to get you to stop just have this crushing weight of a challenge, daring you to do something even more fucked up."

"I'm not..." Nathaniel only got that far into his objection. Apparently, the girl wasn't that dumb—she slapped him and walked off in a huff.

My ex whatever-the-hell-he-is turned red with anger, making his problems about me again. "You had to ruin it."

I rolled my eyes, again. Go me, slot machine. "Dude, seriously? You've been doing this for nearly 2 weeks, and I only now say something. I would have happily continued ignoring you if your pack of wolves would have left me alone." My voice got quieter the longer I spoke because I was trying to not grind my teeth.

And like that, it was out. They knew I knew.

Barlen—a guy who dyed his hair a kind of rose gold-tone—was the first to hiss at me. "Not in public!" So not into blondes. Go back to purple, wheat head.

I was quick to hiss back. "Third generation human—most the damn town knows! It's the most open secret this town has! Besides no one heard me, for all that they were trying. Probably why Stephen made me come sit over here in the first place. The bastard was always too observant for my tastes."

That got a smirk out of the man in question.

A lie. Stephen was the only one I preferred. I would have liked any of them a hell of a lot more if they had lived up to their potential by this point. But fate plopped me on Nathaniel, and I damn well wasn't about to drag myself through the whole of them, not even for Stephen. I just wanted someone I could look up to, and Nate wasn't that guy—not yet at least, and I didn't want to wait for him to grow the hell up.

I still had the slim hope that I could escape if I walked carefully amongst them...thin as that was. A lame hope, stupid girl. Stephen's got his claws in you.

"This isn't over," Nathaniel spat out before he got up and stormed off. I assumed it was to chase down this latest chick, so I forced myself to eat my lunch despite my body's protest. None of these bastards was going to throw me off my meal.

Most of the rest of my classes had a brooding Nathan, until the last period of the day. One of the regular groupies took his attention in a snog-fest. Now, this is one where I'm stuck next to the guy. I tensed until a few minutes in, when I realized he wasn't paying any attention to me. I slumped in relief. Perhaps I could make it out of this godforsaken place without that confrontation he'd been itching for.

Why me? Why all this for 10 minutes of my life? These damn peckerheads make no fucking sense.

That thought came from a time when I barely understood pack mentality. The behaviors made plenty of psychological sense, especially when encouraged to wallow in their baser nature. Still, an ignorant move on all our parts, but we couldn't help being uneducated children.