A Howl In The Night, Lorelei Sutton [best novels for students .txt] 📗

Looking around at my surroundings, I smile as I spot a stream a couple meters away. The water almost crystal clear and not surrounded by pointy rocks, it will suit my purposes well. With a determined look, I grab a long, thick stick and use it as a cane. The beautiful oasis of slightly heated miracle water winks at me as I reach it, stumbling with my stick. Scanning the area once more, I become satisfied that no one is watching. Not that anyone would want to watch anyways.

I slip off my rugged jeans that are too big for me, pulling my shirt over my head. I place it in a small pile near the stream, and enter the water, my soul immediately calmed by the warmth enveloping me. It relaxes my muscles, my feet soothed.

I put my head underneath the surface, trying to disengage some of the dirt and leaves from my unruly hair. Grabbing a tuft of it in my cleansed hands, I examine it, trying to remember what my mother's hair felt like. But the remembrance slips from my grasp, all feeling leaving my fingers.

The only thing that I am certain of, the only firm memory in my mind, is that my mother was an absolutely wonderful singer. Every night, she would sing me a short and sweet lullaby, the name unknown to me. If I concentrate deeply, I can still hear her voice, the sweetness in each of the notes she uttered.

The water swirls around me and I close my eyes, crossing my arms on the ground and putting my head upon it. I let my body dangle in the slow current of the river, soaking in its warmth. The showers at the orphanage are nothing compared to this. How does such a simple stream do this to me? I am so calm that I doubt even a luxury spa can relax me any more. My thoughts begin to grow hazy, my mind drunken with pleasure.

The voice of my dead mother sings to me over and over, murmuring the same intoxicating words that would get me to sleep every time. Opening my mouth, I start to sing along with her, not quite thinking straight. My volume grows as confidence brews. I try desperately to capture the beauty's gorgeous tone, the melody floating between her lips. What is this feeling, ripping through me like a tidal wave? It is like Mother's spirit is entering me, giving me the voice that mirrors hers.

"Very pretty," a low, silky smooth voice emits, almost a song in itself. It awakens me from my daze, and the mysterious, beautiful utterance vanishes from my throat, as if it truly doesn't belong there.

I gasp and look in alarm towards the manly figure that I know all too well. "Xavier!" I exclaim in surprise, "I didn't know that you were going to be this quick!" Red blossoms onto my cheeks, embarrassment flooding through me.

He winks at me, standing on the ground over the stream. "It's called super-speed, sweetheart," he says sultrily, spiking that terrible desire in my heart.

"Oh," I cough a little, wondering just how I'm going to get out of this situation.

"I brought you a hairbrush, some clothes, food, and your backpack."

"How did you get my backpack?" I question confusedly.

"I snuck through the window and got it. Ms. Penn unfortunately left the window open when she forced you into exile, letting the same tragedy happen all over again," he snorts.

"Where are the clothes?" I demand, and he pulls them from his jacket.

"What do you want me to do with them?"

"Put them down, go away, and turn around," I carefully instruct, my tone firm.

"But why do I have to do all that?" he complains as he places the clothes next to my old ones. "That's so-" he cuts off as he spies my old clothes, his eyes widening. Realization finally dawns on him, and he awkwardly straightens, trying not to glance at me. "Sorry," he apologizes, struck a little. For some reason, it surprises me that he is so affected, blushing a deep, tomato red. I always thought that I could never make a boy be like that.

As he zooms away, I begin to laugh. "It would be nice if you would just get it sometimes, Xavier. Work on that," I murmur as I slip out of the water, using my old shirt to dry off. Interestedly I pick up the clothes he brought, wondering what he decided to get me. The shirt is a casual top, with a little bit of lace, and is sleeveless.

The jeans are nice also, a little bit more fitted than my other ones. He brought some shoes too, golden ones that match the top. With pleasure, I sigh as the unfamiliar clothes brush against my skin. "You can come now!" I call, and Xavier zooms to my side. His blue hair is tousled, some strands sticking straight up. His face is a little exerted, but that is to be expected from someone that just ran several miles.

"Here is your food!" he exclaims, whipping out a brown paper bag. My stomach suddenly growling, I take it it out of his hands, reveling in the warmth radiating from it.

"This looks good," I emit as I survey the contents; a biscuit, bacon, and eggs. Xavier leads me over to a big rock, and I sit on it, my ankle hurting when I place weight on it.

"You didn't walk on your right foot, did you?" he probes suspiciously.

"I used a cane."

"Don't you think you are a little young for that?" he laughs, merry pearls of joy ripping through the thick air.

"Nah," I shake my head as he sits on the ground, taking my foot in his hand. He takes the first-aid kit beside him, drawing out a long bandage to wrap around the injury.

"Why did you get in the stream?" he asks as he works.

"Do I have to have a reason?" I snap jokingly, wondering why Xavier always manages to put me in a good mood.

"You know, I would love it if you actually obeyed me sometimes."

"Where's the fun in that?" I ask honestly, my voice jesting.

He peers at me, his eyes of laughter. "You would get rewarded... with a kiss," he smiles, and for a minute, that seems like a pretty sweet prize.

"Ew!" I yell, though my blush betrays the truth, "why would I want a kiss from you?"

"I'm the hottest guy at your school," he smirks, "why wouldn't you want a kiss from me?"

"Who said you were the hottest guy at our school?" I accuse.

"Just about everybody... duh." He struggles over the modern term, making me laugh.

"Well, why would I want a kiss from an old werewolf then?"

"Because I'm HOT!" he answers, "and I'm not old! We went over this." He pauses, almost caressing my foot as he puts the final touches on my bandage. "Hot isn't good enough," he winks, "I should be sizzling hot. Don't you think, Mona?"

"Arrogant, much?" I ask, not really listening to him anymore.

"Don't sidestep the question," he orders, grabbing my hand, "all that matters is you, Mona. Tell me honestly." I can tell he is joking, but his words still strike a chord in my chest. We are suspended in time, the fated words forming in my lips, yet my mouth too cowardly to say them. I stare into his eyes, sparkling with cheer, examining his altogether beautiful features.

I pull away quickly, looking away. "What time is it?" I ask, trying to avoid his penetrating gaze.

Xavier looks to his wristwatch. "7:40," he says, and I sigh in relief. For a minute, I thought we had lost track of time. "I can get us there in two minutes," he says plainly, "with a shortcut."

"Cool," I murmur, then dig in with my fork into my meal. There is a slight rumble of satisfaction as the delicious eggs grace my stomach. I linger over each bite, delighting myself in the wonderful taste. Xavier sits, watching me with a strange expression. "What  are you looking at?" I murmur, my voice irritated.

He chuckles. "Nothing," he murmurs, "it is just that I have never seen anyone so happy when eating food."

"Well, I don't get much of it," I mutter under my breath, my words clearly heard by the stunning man before me. He snorts in agreement.

"Obviously she wants you to starve to death."

I don't reply, consumed with swallowing the last bite of biscuit. Now I move on the bacon, my favorite part. It is slightly crunchy, with just the right amount of salt.

Wonderful.

"I never knew you could sing, and so prettily," he says finally, after a long period of silence, "you don't seem like the type."

"Is that supposed to be an insult?" I question, offended by his remark. I swallow the last of the bacon, smiling in contentment.

"Only you," he sighs, "would take that as an insult. I suppose I should get used to it."

"Of course," I grin, my crooked teeth winking in the gasps of sunlight bursting through the treetops, "it's not like I am going to change."

"Sure. Whatever," he says, standing up and brushing the leaves off his pants. "We got to go. It's 7:55 and school starts at... 8:00, right?" I nod in response. He beckons, and I walk to him, my heart thumping furiously in my chest. He grabs me, his hands wrapped around my waist and knees, and begins to run through the wild underbrush, path unknown.

I wonder how he can go so fast. Everything around me is a blur, and it is impossible to see where we are going. He probably has "super vision" too... werewolves just get it all, don't they?

By the time we reach the school, I have a barrage of questions to ask him. "Where are the other supernatural creatures?" I probe, my voice questioning.

He grins. "A Twilight fan?"

"No. But I've heard about dragons and fairies and stuff like that," I truthfully say. His smile widens.

"We aren’t one hundred percent sure, but we haven’t seen any other supernatural creatures. So far it is just us, and the Shifters. Well, there are some cases of werewolves where they morph into a dog instead of a wolf. Crossbreeds," he shakes his head.

"Why wolves?"

"I truthfully have no idea. Maybe the fact that we are dogs signifies that we are servants to the humans. Or maybe it's because dogs are just that awesome," he smirks as he drags me into the bone-crushing throng of students.

"I like that first one," I laugh in return, both of us quickly enveloped by rushing classmates, Xavier nearly buried with his fans. He just seems to attract attention wherever he goes.

Going to my locker, I turn the dial to get my stuff, and after thinking a little, open Xavier's too so his fans won't block my locker in attempts to flirt with him. I search for him, for that blue mop of perfectly tamed hair that I would recognize anywhere...

There he is!

I troop to his group, trying to wedge my way through the planets in an effort to reach the blinding sun. Xavier spots me, and smiles. "Move," he demands and the girls part like the Red Sea, leaving a regal pathway to the man himself. "You liked it better when I didn't go to your school, right?" he questions knowingly. I laugh, as if that was the silliest question I have ever heard, smiling up at him. I admit... I might have done that to tick the girls off. 

"I didn't really know you before you decided to come to my school," I whisper, leaning in close to his ear so they can't hear the snap in my remark. All they probably notice, though, is how close I am to him, how I managed to break past the barrier he has created around himself.

I might have done that to tick the girls off too.

Xavier seems pleased at my slightly flirtatious manner, responding so well that it makes the girls cringe. They seethe as our conversation continues all the way to