Chapter 11

Ruby

At 6:00 a.m. sharp, I am awoken by the curtains being opened to let in bright sunlight that hurts my eyes. I groan and squint against the harsh light, dazed by this unceremonious wake up call.

“Time for school, princess,” Alice says, yanking the blankets off of me to expose my body to the chill of the room. I groan again and shiver, sitting up.

“You couldn’t be a little nicer about it?” I grumble under my breath as Alice scurries off to the closet. I’m not sure if she heard me, but if she did, she’s not showing it. I look over to Atwood’s side of the bed to see that he isn’t there. In fact, the blankets on his side are still tucked in neatly, as though he never got in bed in the first place.

Come to think of it, I don’t remember him ever coming to bed last night. Maybe he’s busy, or waiting for my birthday to become close to me again. Part of me worries that maybe he’s waiting to see if my wolf will appear before he consummates our relationship. What would happen if my wolf never appears?

I swing my legs out over the edge of the bed and stand, going to the bathroom to relieve myself and splash cold water on my face. When I reemerge from the bathroom, Alice is waiting for me impatiently with one hand on her hip while she holds an all-white outfit in the other.

“All white,” she says. “We must make sure that the other students know who you are.”

I’m a bit confused, but I don’t ask for elaboration; she doesn’t offer any, either. She hastily dresses me in the white button down (which she buttons all the way up to the top), a blazer, and pleated skirt, then has me put on a pair of white tights underneath and a pair of white loafers while she brushes my hair. With my hair as white as it is as well, I feel like a walking snowflake.

Once I’m finished dressing, Alice looks at her watch and scoffs.

“You’re almost out of time,” she says hurriedly, looking annoyed. “Maybe if you wouldn’t dilly-dally, and if you lost some weight so that you can get dressed faster, you wouldn’t have to rush in the mornings.” She shoves a shiny leather bookbag into my hands and ushers me out the door.

I don’t feel like I dilly-dallied, but I’m too afraid of Alice to say anything snarky in response.

One of Atwood’s drivers takes me to school in a sleek black car. He pulls up in front of the school and waits for me to get out.

The school is massive, with smooth stone walls, pointed windows, and ornate pillars adorned in foreign decorations. Expensive sports cars are lined up in the driveway, with extremely attractive students stepping out of them.

I pause before opening the door. My palms are sweating and my heart is racing, which is worsened by the fact that I see all of the other students heading into the school in dark uniforms. Why do I have to stand out so much? Is it really all that necessary?

Taking a deep breath, I step out of the car and follow the other students into the school. As soon as I get out of the car, people start giving me strange looks. Girls whisper and giggle to each other as the boys look me up and down in a disgusted manner. Is it my uniform or the fact that I’m the King’s mate? It could be both.

A boy with dark hair walks by and sneers at me. When I look down, he’s slyly giving me the middle finger. I put my head down as my cheeks flush red, trying not to cry, and climb the steps to the school.

The inside of the school is even more elaborate. It’s like the castle, with marble floors and high vaulted ceilings. Huge curved staircases spiral upwards to multiple floors, and a large statue of Atwood surrounded by a fountain sits right in the center of the main entryway. Students sit together on the edge of the fountain, looking up from their books and their conversations to stare at me. I feel like a circus freak on display.

I’m surprised that no one has appeared to help me find my way around. In my mind, it should be custom for an existing student to show a new student around, but maybe things are a little different here.

There is a row of lockers down the hallway to my right, where a group of girls stand and talk to one another. I decide to gather my courage and walk up to them to ask for help.

As I approach, the girls don’t look up from their conversation. One of them holds a phone and appears to be showing the other girls something. They’re all giggling and whispering.

“Um, excuse me,” I say meekly as I approach. None of them look up. Maybe they didn’t hear me?

“Excuse me? Can you please help me?” I say a little louder.

The girls slowly look up one by one. One of them chews a piece of gum, smacking her lips. She blows a big bubble and stares at me as it pops. The girl holding the phone, however, still doesn’t look up from her phone as she types something. I try not to look, but I can see a social media app open. It looks like she’s posting something.

Once she finally finishes typing, she looks up from her phone and looks me up and down.

“You’re new, right?” she says, leaning against her locker haughtily and cocking her head to one side. She’s got blue eyes and shiny blonde hair that’s pulled back into a tight ponytail. It looks as though she has rolled up her skirt to show off her skinny legs in thigh-high socks, and her uniform blazer is open in the front with her tie loosened and a few buttons undone on her shirt to expose some cleavage.

I nod embarrassingly and look down at my feet. I feel naked and exposed as I stand in front of these girls.

The blonde girl steps forward and comes close to me with her arms folded across her chest.

“Take off that white outfit,” she says.

“Um… excuse me?” I answer.

“You heard me. Take. It. Off.”

I look around to see that a few more people have gathered around me. They’re surrounding me in all directions so that I can’t get away.

“I… I can’t take it off,” I say with a weak chuckle. “What else would I wear?”

The girl shoots out a slender, manicured hand to grab my blazer and yanks me, hard. The other girls start to laugh and advance on me as well. They all begin yanking on my clothes, causing me to stumble and fall to my knees. My bookbag goes sliding across the floor toward a boy’s feet. He kicks it away, out of the circle.

Then, faster than I can even comprehend the situation let alone dodge the attack, the boy that kicked my bookbag throws something at me.

My white uniform is wet and stained brown.

It was a cup of coffee.

“I guess she’s not wearing white now, huh Donna?” he says. Everyone begins to laugh.

Hot tears prick the backs of my eyes as I look up at the group of girls standing in front of me.

“Aw, look everyone, she’s gonna cry!” the lead girl says, which causes more laughter.

Satisfied with their torture, the students walk away and leave me there on the floor with my white uniform stained brown and soaked with coffee. I try my best to gather myself and stand, brushing off my knees, then grab my bookbag and run to the nearest bathroom to try and get the stain out.

Thankfully, the bathroom is empty. The tears spill out and roll down my cheeks as I try desperately to clean my suit, but the water is only making it worse. Why me? What did I do to deserve this on my first day? I think to myself.

My old high school may have been less luxurious than this one, but I had friends there. People liked me, and bullying like this just didn’t happen. I wish I could go back.

I finally decide to give up on trying to clean my suit. After splashing some cold water on my face to reduce the puffiness from my crying, I straighten myself the best I can and go back out into the hallway to find my locker. Thankfully, Alice had given me a sheet with my class schedule and my locker number on it this morning, so at least I can figure that out without any help -- not that I would get help, anyway. Help doesn’t seem to be a thing in this school.

As I make my way to my locker, a plump girl suddenly bumbles into me.

“Miss Nancy!” the teacher yells angrily. “You didn’t turn in your homework again! That’s it, I’ve had enough. Detention!”

I snap back to reality after my unexpected vision and spin around to face the plump girl, who is apologizing profusely for bumping into me.

“You forgot to turn in your homework,” I say.

“What? Wait… Oh!” she says and runs back to where she came from.

As I watch the girl run back to her classroom, I think about my vision ability. It had never been this strong before now. Back in my old pack, I would maybe have one vision every six months to a year. Lately… the visions seem to be coming more frequently.

Could this be related to my encounter with Atwood?

Is this an omen that my wolf will appear on my 18th birthday, as my teacher once said?