"I, Allen Titus Allbricht the III, reject...whatever the hell you are...as mate and Luna of the Spireshade Pack."

        My mind was spinning—I love puzzles, but this time I don't think I had a hamster one on the spinning wheel inside my brain. See, this jackwagon grabbed me outside in the hall—dropped my books while pushing me into this room by forcing my arm behind me before he roughly spun me around. I swear, if I hadn't had a decade of ballroom dancing, I would have wound up on my ass—thanks Mom. But really, his behavior wasn't what was getting to me because dammit, he let me go, just like I had been whimpering for him to do through the whole experience. I thought he was going to do something far more...kinky than just go LARPING on me in the middle of school.

Yeah, LARP, I said it. Big bunch of nerds getting together to pretend that their fantasies are real. I didn't play, but I mean, my friends are into some really weird shit.

         Speaking of weird shit, my best friend Bree was into supernatural romances—any kind, all kinds of kink, gods, you haven't met weird until you've skimmed through a mermaid-squidman  action packed romance that kept making you sing "Under the Sea" any time you tried to pick it up. But seriously, the girl wanted me to read all of her favorites, and since I've always had a decent eye for speed-reading, skimming, whatever you wanted to call it, I could usually waste an hour of my life once a week on whichever ones she wanted me to dissect with her. I mean, I love the girl, but I'm not the "Prince Charming" type or the "Tarnished Knight" type. Frankly, some days I wondered if I even had a sex drive that this crap could call to.

          But seriously, not into this LARP game I had going on here. I crossed my arms and scowled at Secret Nerd Team Jacob (I already forgot his name, sorry, not sorry). "It's Vanessa White, not Vanna, no Price is Right shit, now recite your little rejection love letter right so I can get back to the books I dropped."

        The growl the guy let out made my hair stand on end—for the barest second I thought that maybe this wasn't a game, but then I remembered how Tate had always rigged his LARPING sessions so he could use something called a "Dragon's Roar". You had to see the dude—more Stay Puffed Marshmallow Man than Smaug, but people played the way they played.

          "Fine," He only bit this much out because I was still waiting patiently. "I, Allen Titus Allbricht the III, reject Vanessa White as mate and Luna of the Spireshade Pack."

         "That's better," I damn near purred that out. What a weird reaction, but then I was trying to get myself out of whatever the hell this dude was tripping on. "I, Vanessa White, reject, no, what was it? Ah,accept... Al...Allen Titus Allbricht the turd's shitty rejection of his useless fantasy...Pack? Spire Sharks? Shade Sharts? Spire's Shade? That's got to be close enough."

         Then I walked to the door, hoping I didn't see this weirdo again.

         The whimper behind me left me confused for a second, and I had to turn, to see what the hell was wrong. Sue me, I'm curious. That is, until I remembered Bree's recitation of all things Mate related. Then I rolled my eyes. The dude's going all out, which left me feeling like someone was walking over my grave. Allen was pale, straining like he was about to shriek a Dragon Ball Z move. "Gods damned mutant."

         That was all he said before he passed out. Now, this I'm sure wasn't faking, he really worked himself into passing out. But I muttered to myself ."Stick to your genre. We're not in the Marvel Universe."

         I sighed, finally having lost all hope that I'd ever get to my 2nd class of the day. I walked out the door and gathered what I had dropped and brought it back into the abandoned classroom, plunking it down on an undusted desk by the door. I forgot to mention that, didn't I? It's one of the storage rooms when a grade wasn't overflowing with students, and well, my Senior year was about 100 kids shy of the average. We had smaller classes, because they dared not fire any teacher that they would be needed again next year. The teachers thought it was a great year. That just meant that for the first time, I couldn't hide in the back of a classroom, but had to Participate with a capital P. Not that I was a bad student or even shy, but I was seriously tired of being in school, and couldn't wait to get out of this place. None of my friends felt like that, it was just me.

         I still had a backpack on me, just didn't shove my books in them—never again. Hadn't thought I would ever be in a predicament like this, where I needed my hands free before some dude grabbed me—after all, I wasn't really picked on, just not one of those cool kids. Hell, I didn't know half the in crowd, or even what they called themselves—never needed to know. Anyway, I pulled my water bottle out and popped the cap as I kneeled down beside the dude, then squirted him in the face—just enough to get him up and sputtering, not like I was water-boarding him or anything, I just couldn't leave the guy here, and I really wanted this done and over with quickly.

        "What the hell you did that for?!" he growled out—this time, I could tell for certain that the sound came from somewhere on him. He had a microphone/speaker combo, somewhere. Good thing I didn't hit the battery pack, otherwise this would be fried Team Jacob.

         "I couldn't leave you here all passed out, man, but I really don't want to stay here all day waiting on you like you mean something to me, either." I shrugged, at that.

        "Mean something to..." he sputtered that one at me as he did one of those stupid ninja moves some of my guy friends tried to do to get them from laying to upright. Alright, it's basic gymnastics with momentum from nowhere. Takes some core muscle to do, or a tiny size, and I had not been small enough to even try it when I dumped most the athletics in 6th grade. Man, I had really been into it, then, and sometimes I think I should get back to some of those things, but I'd rather be fat than deal with boobs and exercise and had the body to prove it. Oh, I wasn't that big, but as The Health Nut pointed out daily, I was a good 30 pounds of flab that would give me an early grave. Got to love gym junkie brothers. They don't sugarcoat things.

         He looked down at me, scowling. "You know what I am, right?"

         I sighed and pushed myself up off the ground, damn near falling forward because I still didn't take off the backpack, and this dude just holds onto my shoulder until I regain my footing. Didn't take long, so I was standing upright, closer to him this time—and he's a tall one. Didn't take that in at first. I could wear 6 inch heels and still would have to look up a bit. "You're a LARP player, pretending werewolves are real, likely into all those books that some girls squee over, you know, like the Twilight series."

         "Goddess, are you one of those weird girls who likes to choose a team?" of course, he looks at me like I've sprouted a second head or something.

         I had to roll my eyes. "No, I'm Team Bree Don't Make Me Watch This Again."

         "What's LARPING?" I thought the confused crinkling of his nose was still bothering to process current snark, but someone's baby boy was still way back there in the conversation.

       I snickered to myself because it was his turn at the idle hamster wheel. Couldn't help the smirk I had on my face, either. "It's where you pretend this shit is real. I never expected to meet a guy who liked supernatural romances, though, especially not with that jock exterior you're hiding it behind." Now, I did give him a once-over for that comment. I hadn't really taken him in, before that point. Yeah, tall, arms nearly bigger round than my thighs, a too-tight shirt that clearly showed the highs and lows of his physique. Honestly, if I cared, I'd drool, but really, it's like looking at my brother. And yeah, that's exactly what I was thinking as I looked him over, so I was fighting against those fake gagging noises I usually make when my brother posed. I often took his photos, unless it was those professional ones, but then it's business—as a body builder, he needed to see himself at different angles, to see what he wanted to improve on, so I'd be making those noises while snapping shots and he'd be grumbling at me because he was trying hard to hold a pose, not bust out laughing. He could be doing that with whatever girl he was into that week, but given that a lot of girls just want to eat this stuff up, it was better to use someone who wasn't, well, even remotely needy.

         But back to this Allen guy, I could at least say that he looked like he could compete with big brother, which is a compliment, in it's own way, just detached from reality. I should be fanning myself, as soaked as if I was washing a car like that koala from that singing movie. I really should. I couldn't think of a single female friend that wouldn't be short-circuiting to have his attention on them. I found myself internally laughing, at that thought. Right behind that, I realized that all I did was really mockingly devour his body—I couldn't tell you what his hair color was or if his eye shone with energy, so fighting against the laughter, I looked him in the face.

        And was surprised. I honestly had not looked at him, really, through all of this. Oh, his hair was a dull copper, and his eyes were a shadowy green, but for a flicker of a moment, his face held such life to it—then it was gone. I was back to not being able to pick this face out of a crowd—even with the self-contented smirk on his face. I rolled my eyes, at that. This time publicly.

         "You think this is fake?" Finally Mr. LARP snapped. "Fine."

          That was all the warning I got.

         No, he didn't kiss me, causing sparks to fly to the heavens. I think I would have preferred a kiss.

         Instead, this dude steps forward, even closer to me and begins to strip.

        The only half-naked man I've seen is my older brother, for photo shoots. I'm not the drooling type and I'm definitely not the to-be-worshipped type, either. I stepped back, far more nervous than I'd been this whole time. I mean, this was a big guy who forced me in here—sass could only protect my ass so far.

        "I'm not into rejection sex, Allen." I said it low and seriously, not liking the tremor to my voice, it's the first time I'd taken him as a real threat outside of him having pinned my arm behind me—even then, he hadn't really hurt me. He simply kept his gaze locked with mine as he grabbed his jeans to unbuckle them, too. I took several steps back, then, bumping against a desk behind me. My choice was either to allow myself to be pinned, here, or climb back over the desk and watch him through my legs. Even totally not interested me had to admit that latter thought was wicked-hot. I refused to climb, plain refused—no way my first time would be anything like this.

        That's when the bastard smirked again, like he knew the shift in my thoughts before I made it there, myself. Yay Mr. Creepy. Of course, by that point the pants and shoes had slid off him.

Then he grabbed the waistline of his underwear.

       That's when my hands shot up to my face. "Dear God, my virgin eyes!"

        "Really, Vanessa?"

         Holy hell, the dude still remembers my name? "Please don't. It's not like I'm trying to save myself, but I really don't want my first time to go like this."

        "Vanessa, I'm just stripping to shift. I'm not going to maul you," it was his turn to laugh. "Seriously, sweetheart, just look at my face."

         I didn't look up in fascination, it was in anger. "Don't you dare call me sweet..."

         He hadn't given one shit about what he called me or how I felt, he just started to change right before my eyes because he had gotten what he wanted from me. All the snapping and shifting hurt to hear, but the look of someone going between such different forms was far worse.

I'm sure my eyes were as wide as saucers. I'd seen some drawings of aliens like that, in old classics—they looked like their brains would just drop right out the eye sockets because the ocular opening was ginormous. I slumped back down on the floor, and this big brute of a wolf whimpered at me, coming to sit down and rest his head on my lap. I petted the beastie while trying to wrap my mind around this new puzzle. Had to wonder how much of this was one guy or two separate beasties.

       We sat there for I don't know how long before I finally looked down at the wolf and said, "Shift back."

       He did—in all his naked glory—but I was still more obsessed with my thoughts than whatever his state was as he quickly redressed himself. "Vanessa, we have a problem."

       "You rejected me, I accepted it, what's the problem?"

        "It didn't take."

        I looked at him with confusion. "What do you mean?"

       "I don't know," he ran his hand through his hair in frustration before he sat on the edge of the still-central teacher's desk—thankfully no longer naked. You know, butt-cheeks in the dust layer? "I went through the hell of being rid of you, only to have it redouble back as strong as ever, and I'm trying like hell not to touch you, right now. What exactly have you felt?"

        "Practically nothing. No response to your touch, no real pleasure at you speech. I thought I really saw your face for a brief moment, but there was no full on attraction. I mean, everything I've ever been shanghaied into reading? I don't know, man, I'm not getting it. You?"

        "Everything. It's actually quite painful after I tried to reject you." Of course, his eyes watered—couldn't tell if he was trying to not cry or sneeze.

        "So..." I stood and brushed some of the dust that I could see off of me before going to repack that stack of mess into my backpack.

        "I need you to come with me."

       I sighed. This dude just wouldn't let me be. "What now?"

      "We need answers—that is, if you're serious about not being mated to me."

       "Hey, I wasn't the one who started this shit, dude. I mean, if you had been like half those stupid novels and, I don't know, actually tried, I might be serious about you, one way or the other, but right now I honestly don't care..." I said this as I turned back to face him. The poor guy was tense, not even looking at me. God only knew how affected he was. Oh, man, I think I felt something...pity? "But I like puzzles, and I've been waiting for an excuse to ditch school for months, so I'm game if you are."

       Then I went back to finishing packing up this stupid bag before I forget anything in this godforsaken hellhole of a school.