Chapter 7

Alexa pov

I awoke that bright, sunlit morning with a wonderful sense of joy bubbling up inside me. It felt as though the very air around me was electrified with possibilities. The gentle rays slipped through my window, nudging me awake like an eager friend. I quickly leaped out of bed, hardly able to contain my excitement. I dashed to the bathroom, nearly tripping over my own feet in my haste. After a refreshing shower that left me feeling invigorated, I slipped into my favorite outfit—a vibrant blend of colors that felt like an extension of my own happiness.

I rushed down the staircase, the delicious aroma of breakfast wafting up from the kitchen, guiding me like a homing beacon. There, at the table, were my dad, my mom, and my sister, perched together, enjoying a peaceful meal. My heart swelled with affection as I watched them.

"I'm ready, Dad!" I announced, my voice bubbling over with enthusiasm.

"Why don't you come sit down and have breakfast?" he replied, glancing over at my mother, his expression tinged with a hint of caution, as if he were bracing for an inevitable response from her.

For a moment, I held my breath, anticipating my mother's usual retort that would dissuade me from joining them. But this time, she remained silent, contentedly chewing her food and lost in her own thoughts. This sudden quiet was unusual and left me perplexed. I stood there, contemplating whether I should push my luck and join them at the table.

"I'm not really hungry," I said hesitantly, "I will just wait here until you finish, so we can go."

"No, come and eat," my mother insisted, a glimmer of urgency in her voice. "So you can write well and pass."

Her words struck me like lightning, and I froze in disbelief. I felt a whirlwind of thoughts swirl in my mind. What was going on? Did she genuinely want me to succeed, or was there something else behind her encouragement?

Then it hit me like a wave crashing against the shore—passing my exams meant I would eventually have to leave home, and perhaps that's exactly what she was counting on. Suddenly, everything clicked into place. I remembered her suggesting that I apply to Willow High School, and the unsettling realization washed over me: if I got accepted, I would have to move there. My heart sank. That meant I would finally leave my family behind, and perhaps that's what she secretly wanted.

"Ahhh, that makes sense now!" I thought, feeling my mood dampen like a deflated balloon. I no longer had the appetite for breakfast, so I shook my head resolutely. "I'm fine; I'll just wait for Dad outside." With that, I turned on my heel and walked briskly out of the living room, my mind racing with thoughts of what lay ahead.

Barely a minute later, my dad emerged, a warm smile breaking through his earlier tension. "Let's go!" he said, and we made our way out of the house together. The drive to school lasted about fifteen minutes, but my mind was racing all the while, envisioning the adventure that lay ahead.

As we pulled up to Willow High, I looked up in awe at its towering facade. It was magnificent, a sprawling structure that looked like it had been plucked straight out of a dream. One of the best schools in all of Willow Creek, it beckoned to me. My heart was a cacophony of excitement and nervousness as we stepped out of the car.

We walked into the bustling hallways, teeming with students. The atmosphere was vibrant, yet I could sense my dad's unease. My gaze swept over the crowd, and I noticed werewolves mingling among the human students. It was a strange blend of worlds—some humans completely unaware of the supernatural beings sharing their school. Others, those who were mated to or best friends with wolves, seemed in the know, while I stood apart, a hunter caught in an unexpected web of identities.

You might wonder why we didn't eliminate these wolves, why we coexisted instead of battling it out. The truth was, we only targeted those who had strayed too far from the pack, those who posed a real threat to both humans and wolves alike.

Determined, my dad and I made our way through the corridors, finally approaching the principal's office. Once we entered, a man in his forties looked up from a stack of papers. Surprise flickered through me—so, he was a wolf too. How astonishing, I thought, rolling my eyes internally at yet another twist in my rapidly unfolding story.

"Ah, you must be Alexa," he said with a welcoming smile. "I'm Principal Jackson."

His voice was calm and authoritative, yet there was an underlying warmth that assured me this place might just be okay after all.