Date Published: Early March

edited

C H A P T E R F I V E

"Kitty"

"Ruby, you're grounded," my mother told me, her arms crossed. I was chewing absentminded on my pancakes, pouring generous amounts of syrup on every few bites.

"You've already ground me, remember," I quipped back, taking another bite. My mother narrowed her eyes, her perfect eyebrows knitting together as she stared at me. I swallowed, looking at my father for help from the inevitable.

"You know honey, she's not wrong. I don't think she meant to come across so rude," my father tried weakly to defend me.

I sighed, putting my chin into the palm off my hand. My father was little help in the argument area.

My mother turned from me to my father, her anger changing persons. I put another fork of pancakes into my mouth, watching cautiously.

My mother had come to the conclusion that I needed to be grounded for the second time after thinking over the night. I didn't think I was that rude, but my mother thought otherwise, and it was her way or the highway.

For some ungodly reason my brother had pulled me out of bed early, and had practically forced me to get ready. This meant I had ample time to be yelled at, and eat my pancakes before heading off to school.

I stood, stepping away from the table as quietly as possible. My mother's eyes found mine as soon as I reached down to grab my bag. She paused her argument with my father for a moment.

"You come straight home tonight!" my mother said, before looking back at my father, who was trying to combat her arguments and failing miserably.

I waved goodbye as I left, but I knew they didn't see. Their arguing could be heard outside the house, only fading when I neared my car. With a huff, I unloaded my bag into the passenger seat, before getting in.

I let myself breathe, something I had almost been neglecting. It seemed like I was always holding my breath, afraid of what was going to happen next.

My attention was suddenly drawn away when I smelled vanilla. I hated that smell because it reminded me of something I couldn't have.

I lifted my eyes, looking for him in the distance. A road separated my house and his, and a white picket fence lining his lawn. He was on the sidewalk, leaning against his fence as he took deep breaths. His face was red and his body had a sheen of sweat.

I shook my head when he took off his shirt. He pulled it over his head and balled it in his hands.

My gaze drifted down his body, from his shoulders to his stomach. My chest ached as I looked at his v-line, only viewable because of his low shorts. I narrowed my gaze on his side when he moved, he pulled his phone from his pocket.

What is that?

I leaned forward, squinting so I could see it better. That, that was definitely a tattoo. It wasn't what I thought it would be, like a wolf or a dragon, anything but... a cat?

I was unable to stop the laugh that left my mouth. He had the worst cat I've ever seen tattooed into his tide. The lines were patchy and dull, not to mention the demon eyes that cat had.

I stifled another laugh and pulled out my phone, pointing it at his side. I only had a few short moments before he moved- right now he was doing something on his phone. Within ten seconds I had a picture of his tattoo saved in my camera roll.

I pulled out of my driveway, tossing my phone onto my passenger seat. I was going the opposite way of Connell's house, but I could see his fleeting figure in my side mirror as I left. He must not of realized how late he was.

Feeling confident with the time, I decided to stop by a coffee shop and get a donut. I had already eaten breakfast, but I'm a growing girl, I need nourishment!

As I tapped my foot, waiting for my food, I got an idea. Pulling my phone from my bag, I logged into Hustle, a social media app that was popular around my school. Reason: anonymity. Anything could be said, posted, or shared, with complete secrecy.

It was a breeding ground for rumors. True or not, nobody cared enough to fact check.

It took 3 clicks and then the photo was posted.

Ouch- rough tattoo from our favorite new asshole, Mr. Wood. Someone should tell him how bad it is.

I rolled my eyes at my awful description and posted the picture, tagging my entire friend list. The good thing about Hustle was that the picture would be posted but there would be no way to track it back to me.

I got my donut soon after I put away my phone. I could hear it buzz, but I decided not to look at it. By the time I got to school, I knew it would be everywhere. That was a given. Everyone had Hustle.

I drove to school slowly, my phone buzzing nonstop. I turned it off at a stop light, and only looked at it when I pulled into my parking spot. Pulling my phone from my bag, I looked at the app one more time.

The comments were about as agonizing as I figured they'd be.

If I wasn't still burning from anger because of all Connell had done to me, I might have felt bad. But my one, minuscule little act couldn't even measure up to what he had done. It might have been sadistic, but I hoped he felt embarrassed about his stupid tattoo.

I walked to class, observing everyone. They were all on their phones, laughing about the picture. Sharing it with each other.

Maddie and Sara met me in class, hunched over one desk, staring at one of their phones.

"Ruby, have you seen this?" Maddie said, giggling under her breathe. She pushed her phone away from her, letting me see. The picture was getting a lot of attention.

"Yeah," I replied, keeping my voice steady. Maddie smiled, and upon seeing her perfect white teeth, I smiled back. Her smile was contagious.

"This isn't going to blow over well," Maddie said, glancing at the picture. "Everyone can't get enough of it."

"I'm sure he'll be fine," Sara spoke lightly, her eyes looking off into space. Maddie and I looked at each other, eyebrows raised.

"Why do you say that?"

Sara shrugged, her arms crossing. "Because he has a killer bodies that the girls will fall for."

Dottie let out a low growl at the thought of other girls looking at him, but that ship had already sailed. Sara wasn't wrong, even though you couldn't see much in that photo, it was enough to make your mind wander.

"Yeah but what girl would want a guy with that awful tattoo permantly on their side," Maddie said.

We laughed, just as the late bell rung. He still wasn't here, the door remained open and his desk remained empty.

"Maybe he saw the picture," someone said near the back of the class.

"As if he has Hustle," Fletcher's voice echoed the classroom. We nodded in agreement, waiting impatiently for him to show up.

Kids were scattered around the classroom. Many sitting on desktops, talking loudly with their friends. Some of the football players were throwing things at each other near the back of the class.

I felt dull pleasure fill my bones as we slowly fell into chaos.

"Ruby darling, I have a party tonight and I want you there," Fletcher said. He wrapped his arm around me, pulling me into his side.

Fletcher was the class clown, never failing to make me everyone else smile. We've been friends since middle school, and there was never a chance of being anything more as he came out as gay in freshman year.

Fletcher loved throwing parties, an only he ever managed to pull it off. He was the golden boy of the school, star football player, valedictorian by some incredible measure. He threw parties like he was addicted to the thrill, and some how he never got in trouble for it.

I thought about the question for a few seconds, my mind going over the pros and cons. It would get my mind off of my situation for at least a night, but I was also grounded. Like really grounded.

Still, I found my lips twisting into a smile as I gazed up at Fletcher. "Sure Fletch."

He hugged me, before being called away by one of his friends. Fletcher's parents were the medics of our pack, but he didn't have a bone in his body like them. He gets hurt the most out of all the pack members.

I heard Connells foosteps before I saw him. Then, his blue eyes scanned the room as he made it to the door. His eyes widened for a moment as he took in the ruckus.

A few days ago we would have been sitting perfectly still, barely breathing. It wasn't that way now. The combination of him being late and the ridiculous photo that came out fueled the class into having a few minutes of courage.

"What's going on in here!" Connell said loudly, shutting the door behind him as he entered.

"We love your tattoo Mr. Wood," one of the senior boys yelled out.

Connell looked at us in confusion, trying to piece together what he meant. Maddie pulled up the photo, showing it to Mr. Wood.

His confusion melted away as realization crossed his face. With his eyes blazing, he looked straight at me, knowing that I had to have taken the photo. Under his glare, I sunk lower into my seat, my eyes going to the floor.

Connells booming voice echoed around the room, causing everyone to go quiet. "Everyone sit down! Now!"

It was the voice of an alpha. And a strong one, at that. I knew he was powerful, and there was no doubt from the first moment I met him that he was of alpha blood. I knew that the wolves in the room were submitting, even without looking to see.

It was more of a roar, and everyone followed his instructions. My stomach knotted as I clutched my necklace, squeezing it so hard I could feel the indentations in my palm.

He waited impatiently as everyone sat down, before leaning against his desk. The air in the room seemed to get thicker as we waited for him to speak.

"I expect more from my students than this foolish behavior. Now, I'm aware that I am a substitute, but I expect you to treat me with as much respect as you would have shown your regular teacher," Connell looked around the classroom as he said this, his voice calm and even. It was almost scary how easily he could become calm.

Connell seemed to inhale slowly, before his eyes darted up. He was looking straight at me.

"I expect better," he said coldly, before he looked away from me. "From all of you."

I felt anger fill me. He was telling me to be better? You're kidding right-

I let out a breath as I looked at him, something welling in my chest. I wanted to break down in anger, to scream at him and let him know how wrong he was.

The atmosphere in the room was tense as he stood up straight, walking around his desk.

"Macbeth," He wrote on the board, and everyone let out an uncomfortable grown.

Thank you all for reading, i'm slowly editing this book to make it a bit better.

Love,

Elle Kay