Faster than an Alpha LUNA I never meant to start my first day at Blackridge University with a full-out sprint, but the bus was late, the campus was huge, and I had exactly seven minutes to make it to athlete orientation before Coach Ramirez, my new coach, who according to the rumors Iâve heard, was strict and unforgiving, marked me down as unreliable. That wasnât happening, not after everything Iâd done to get here. So I ran. My sneakers pounded the sidewalk, duffel bag bouncing against my hip with every stride I took. My lungs pulled in the cool morning air that was sharp and clean, tasting faintly of pine and something else I couldnât place. My long dark curls whipped across my face, sticking to the sweat already beading on my golden-brown skin, and I shoved them back impatiently. It didnât matter to me what I looked like. It only mattered that I got there on time. Blackridge was beautiful in a way that made my chest tight, with the old brick buildings that were covered in ivy, wide green lawns, and mountains rising blue and hazy in the distance. It felt like the kind of place where important things happened, and I still couldnât believe that I actually belonged here. I was on a full scholarship for track and field, which was a fresh start far away from the cramped apartment and the worried lines around Momâs eyes every time the rent was due. I cut across the main quad, dodging groups of students with backpacks and coffee cups. Some of them turned to stare, probably because I was running like my life depended on it, but I didnât slow down. The athletic complex was on the far side of campus, and the map on my phone said the fastest route was straight across a massive open field. I hopped a low chain-link fence without breaking stride, and the turf felt perfect under my shoes, springy, and brand-new. The farther I ran, the more the air smelled like fresh-cut grass and something sharper, almost spicy, which was weird, but whatever. I focused on getting to where I needed to be until I noticed the goalposts towering at both ends which made me realize that this was an empty football field. Or so I thought. I was halfway across when voices hit me, deep, loud, and most definitely male. A whole group of guys in black practice jerseys were spread out near the fifty-yard line, stretching, tossing footballs, and laughing like they owned the world. Which, from the size of them, they probably thought they did. I tried to veer left, but one of them, out of nowhere, stepped right into my path, causing me to skid to a stop with my chest heaving. The guy in front of me was tall and tan with dirty-blond hair that fell into sharp gray eyes, and there was also a thin scar cutting through his left eyebrow, giving him a permanent half-smirk. He looked like a bundle of trouble with way too much muscle, and that smirk told me that he knew it. âLost, track girl?â he asked, his voice low and lazy. âThis isnât your playground.â I was initially confused on how he was able to guess that I was a track athlete until I looked down at the Blackridge University Track team jacket I forgot I had on, and realized that I was basically announcing myself. Behind him, the rest of the team had gone quiet, and I felt every single pair of eyes land on me. There had to be thirty guys out here, but only five of them stood out like they were under spotlights. The one whoâd spoken, Ryder, as I had heard someone mutter after he stopped me, folded his arms and waited for me to apologize or back down, like that was ever going to happen, and judging from his teammate's reaction, he was most probably used to intimidating girls with his height, and looks. I straightened up, slinging my bag higher on my shoulder. âIâm only just taking a shortcut, buddy. Didnât realize I needed a hall pass to cross grass.â A couple of low laughs rippled through the group, and Ryderâs smirk widened. âYouâre fast. Iâll give you that, but this field belongs to the football team. So maybe stick to the little baby tracks from now on.â Baby tracks. The words lit a fire under me. Iâd heard stuff like that my whole life, with people telling me Iâm too short, too small, and too female to hang with the serious runners, and every time, Iâd shut them up by leaving them in the dust. I looked past Ryder to the end zone which was about eighty yards, maybe ninety, then back at him. âTell you what,â I said, keeping my voice even. âRace me to the goalpost. If I win, I get to cut across whenever I want, but if you win, Iâll stay on the baby tracks forever.â His eyebrows shot up, and the laughs from the rest of the guys only got louder. From the back of the group, a guy with jet-black hair and storm-gray eyes watched without smiling. He had the vibe of a team captain written all over him, broad shoulders, arms crossed, and a presence that made everyone else shift a little when he moved. Next to him was a blond with sun-bleached curls and a dimpled grin that made him look like heâd just won free tickets to the best show on campus. His green eyes sparkled with so much amusement it was almost embarrassing. A bigger guy who had tattoos covering his thick arms, short dark hair, and piercing blue eyes, muttered something that sounded like âThis is dumb,â but I ignored him since my pride was on the line. And then there was the quiet one, who was leaner than the others, and had longish dark brown hair falling over silver-rimmed glasses. His golden eyes never left me, not once, and it was intense in a way that made my skin prickle. Ryder peeled off his practice jersey and tossed it to the grass. His chest and abs were ridiculous, tan and cut like he lived in the weight room his entire life, not that I was staring. Okay, maybe I was staring a little. âYouâre on,â he said, bouncing lightly on the balls of his feet. âReady to eat my dust, track girl?â I dropped my duffel at the curly blondâs feet, and he took it without a word, his dimples deepening. We lined up side by side. Then someone yelled, âGo!â and we took off. The turf flew under me, and the wind roared in my ears. My legs stretched long and powerful, the way they always did when I ran for real. I didnât look in Ryderâs direction as I never look sideways in a race. I just focused on the white line ahead and let my body do what it knew how to do best. Ten yards in, he was right beside me, strong and fast, definitely way faster than any guy Iâd raced before. Twenty yards, and I could hear his breathing, and feel the heat coming off him as he pushed harder, but Iâd trained for this. Endless sprints, hill repeats until I wanted to cry, and stairs until my quads burned for days. I found another gear and pulled ahead. Thirty yards⊠forty, and the gap widened, and I ended up hitting the end zone two full strides before he did. I slowed to a jog, then stopped, hands on my knees, pulling in deep breaths. My heart hammered so hard I felt it in my throat, and when I straightened up, sweat dripping down my back, the entire field was silent. I mean dead silent. Ryder stood a few feet away, bent over, with his hands on his thighs. Sweat darkened his hair, and he looked up at me, gray eyes wide, mouth actually open a little. The cocky smirk was completely gone. No one cheered. No one laughed. The cute captain stepped forward slowly, his gaze locked on me like he was deciding between jumping me, or running away from me, and the others shifted restlessly, some taking half-steps closer without seeming to realize it. The air felt different suddenly, heavy in a way I couldn't properly describe, and the spicy scent Iâd picked up earlier but ignored was everywhere now, flooding my lungs, and making my head spin. I immediately knew that it was coming from them. All five of them with the invisible spotlights above their heads. My skin tingled, and my pulse wouldnât slow down. Ryder straightened up slowly, his voice coming out rough, almost broken. âWhat⊠the hell⊠are you?â I forced a laugh, but it sounded shaky even to me. âA transfer student who just beat you?â He took a step toward me, then another. His pupils were huge and black, swallowing the gray. âNo. YouâreâŠâ He inhaled sharply, like the air hurt going in. âOmega.â The word dropped into the silence, and a couple of the guys actually growled, low, deep sounds that vibrated in my chest. The captain's jaw clenched so tight I saw the muscle jump, the tattooed one curled his hands into fists, and the quiet one with glasses adjusted them slowly, his golden eyes narrowed behind the lenses. I took a step back. âOkay, thatâs⊠a weird team thing, right? Secret handshake or whatever? Cool, but Iâm just gonnaâŠâ I pointed toward the far sideline. âHead to orientation.â But they didnât move. They just stared at me like I was something theyâd never seen before, or something they wanted to devour. Maybe even both. The captain finally spoke, his voice was low and controlled, and it sent a shiver straight down my spine. âYou just made a very big mistake coming here.â My stomach flipped, but I lifted my chin. I wasnât about to let some overgrown jocks scare me on day one. âI won fair and square,â I said. âDeal with it.â I stepped around him, grabbed my bag from the curly blond, and started walking. My legs felt heavy, like I was moving through water, and that wild scent clung to my skin, sank into my lungs, and made my head fuzzy in a way I didnât understand. I didnât look back, and I couldnât because I could feel them watching me. Five specific pairs of eyes were burning into my back like they wanted to brand me. By the time I reached the track complex, my heart still hadnât calmed down. The building was modern with the glass walls, and banners with past championship years. I dropped my bag for a moment and tried to force a smile on my face so it wouldn't be obvious to anyone else that I wasn't having the best morning, but my mind just wouldnât settle. Why had they looked at me like that? Why did the air suddenly feel different after the race, like a storm was coming, and most importantly, why couldnât I stop smelling them every time I breathed in? Viral on Day One LUNA Orientation did not go well. I slipped into the track complex five minutes late, breathing a little harder than Iâd liked with my curls sticking to my neck like they were out to get me. Coach Ramirez stopped mid-sentence as soon as he noticed me, and stood still with his arms crossed, and his dark eyes narrowing on me like Iâd personally insulted him. Everyone else, which was about twenty other scholarship athletes, turned to look in my direction, which was one of my worst nightmares, so I quickly mumbled an apology about the bus being late and took the only empty seat at the back. For the next hour Coach drilled us on rules, schedules, and expectations, and every time his gaze swept the room, it stayed on me a second longer than everyone else. When he handed out the practice calendars, he had practically slapped mine into my hand and muttered, âDonât be late again, Merrick. We donât hand out full rides to people who canât tell time.â Great. First day and I was already on his bad side. Could this day possibly get any worse? By the time we were dismissed, my stomach was in knots. I grabbed my duffel and got out of there fast with my head down, trying to ignore the curious stares from the other runners. I just wanted to find my dorm, unpack my bags that Iâd been told were already waiting in my room since I sent them in advance, and after that, Iâll pretend the morning hadnât happened. Hawthorne Hall was supposed to be a ten-minute walk from the athletic complex, but it felt like thirty. The campus was even bigger than I thought, the paths twisting between old brick buildings and wide lawns. My phone map kept spinning, and every time I thought I had the right dorm, it turned out to be the wrong one. I must have circled the same courtyard twice. Finally I found Hawthorne, a tall red-brick building with ivy crawling up the sides, and I pushed through the front doors, relieved to be out of the sun. The lobby smelled like popcorn and cheap perfume, and just as I was walking past, a group of girls lounging on the couches would look up at me. They stopped talking, and just stared like they had never seen a person before, then one whispered something to her friend, and they both smirked. I kept moving, heading straight to the third floor, room 312. The hallway was loud with doors open, music playing, and girls laughing. Every time I passed an open door or a cluster in the hall, more heads turned, I got more stares, and there was more whispering. I felt like Iâd grown a second head or something, and my cheeks burned, but I kept my chin up and walked faster. When I finally found 312, the door was slightly open. I pushed it wider and stopped dead. The room was decently sized, with two beds, two desks, and two closets with sunlight pouring in through a big window. One side was completely bare with white walls, an empty desk, and a neatly made bed. Mine, I guessed. The other side? Total chaos. Posters covered almost every inch of wall space. Shirtless guys with perfect abs and smoldering looks, rock bands, movie stars, and then⊠wolves. Big, gorgeous photos of wolves running through snow, wolves howling at the moon, and wolves with glowing eyes. One huge poster showed a half-human, half-wolf creature that had ripped muscles, claws, fur along the arms, and a face caught somewhere between man and beast. I stood there staring, duffel still on my shoulder. What the hell was this? The door swung open behind me, and I jumped. A girl with bright red hair piled in a messy bun bounced in, arms full of books and a half-eaten granola bar. She had pale skin, round glasses, and a wide, contagious grin that lit up her whole face the second she saw me. âYou must be Luna!â she said, dumping her stuff on her bed. âIâm so sorry I wasnât here earlier. I had film theory and the professor talks forever. Iâm Ivy. Ivy Hart. Hi!â She stuck out her hand, and I shifted my bag and shook it awkwardly. âLuna Merrick,â I said. âYeah, hi.â Ivy glanced around like she was seeing the room for the first time. âSorry about the mess. I meant to clean up, but I literally ran out the door this morning, but as you can already tell, that sideâs all yours.â She pointed to the empty half. âDecorate it however you want. Put up posters of hot athletes or whatever. I bet youâve got some good ones.â I blinked. âHow did you know Iâm an athlete?â She laughed, a bright, bubbly sound, and flopped onto her bed. âGirl, youâre famous now. Didnât you know?â I frowned. âFamous? What are you talking about?â Instead of answering, Ivy dug her phone out of her pocket, scrolled for a second, then turned the screen toward me. My stomach dropped. It was a video, a crystal clear video of me lining up next to Ryder on the football field, me pulling ahead in the race, and me crossing the end zone first. Ryder bent over, hands on his knees, looking stunned, and the camera zoomed in on the team, catching how all of them had frozen, and stared at me like I was a ghost. You could even hear someone whisper âOmegaâ near the end. The caption read, âNew girl smokes Ryder Graves on his own field. Who is sheâ with a couple of dumb emojis, but it surprisingly had a lot of views. My mouth went dry. âSomeone filmed that?â Ivy nodded, her eyes wide. âMultiple someones, actually. Itâs all over the schoolâs socials, and you're, like, viral on your first day. Thatâs lucky!â âLucky?â I repeated, my voice flat. âI have zero interest in going viral. Why is the whole school making a big deal out of a stupid race? Donât they have anything better to do?â Ivy stared at me like Iâd just said the sky was green. âDo you seriously not know who you raced?â âSome cocky football guy?â I shot back, letting her know that I was definitely not impressed just because I happened to race some hot guy. âRyder Graves,â she said slowly, like I was missing something huge. âStar running back, and one of the gods of Blackridge University. He and his friends, Jace Callahan, Knox Wilder, Theo Vale, and Orion Dusk, are basically untouchable. Think gorgeous insane athletes that come from incredibly rich families, basically the whole package. Girls throw themselves at them, guys want to be them, and they never, ever pay attention to anyone new, especially not a transfer girl. But you, my dear, didnât just beat Ryder, you got all five of them staring at you like you hung the moon.â I snorted. âSounds like high school.â Ivy laughed again. âPretty much, but on steroids.â I turned away, unzipping my duffel and starting to unpack my other things just to have something to do with my hands. T-shirts, running gear, and a couple framed photos of me and Mom. I set them on the empty desk carefully. Famous, viral, and attention. Exactly what I didnât want, especially if it had nothing to do with my incredible ability as an athlete. Iâd come here to run, study, graduate, and disappear into a normal life, not become campus gossip because I beat some jock in a sprint. The rest of the afternoon passed by with me unpacking and attempting to multitask by making small talk with Ivy who talked a lot, like, a lot. She was easy to listen to, though, as well as funny, and having zero filter. She told me about her film major, her obsession with werewolf lore (which explained the posters), and how Blackridge had all these old legends about wolves in the mountains. I nodded along, half-listening, still mad about the video. By early evening, my side of the room looked less empty with my bed made, clothes hung up, and running shoes lined under the desk. Ivy had dragged me to the dining hall for burgers, where even more people stared and were very clearly gossiping about me, and it got so bad that I had to keep my head down and eat fast. Back in the room, I changed into sweats and crawled onto my bed, planning to scroll on my phone for a bit and then crash early since I was still feeling jet lag from the bus ride and all the running had me wiped. Thatâs when my phone vibrated, showing that I had a message from an unknown number. Reluctantly, I opened the message. âCome outside. Weâre waiting.â I stared at the screen, wondering who the hell it was, but before I could ask, another text came. âItâs Ryder. The guy you were lucky to outrun earlier. Me and the guys are downstairs, and youâve got five minutes or we come up and get you ourselves.â My heart slammed against my ribs, and I stared at the message for a full minute, wondering to myself if I had started seeing things. How did he have my number? Just how many of them did he mean when he said âthe guysâ? And why did they want me outside? I sat up slowly, glancing at Ivy. She was at her desk with her headphones on, typing something on her laptop. She hadnât noticed. I looked out the window, and even though I was on the third floor, the parking lot was visible between buildings, and from here I could make out five tall figures leaning against a black SUV under the streetlight. It was a little too far to see their faces clearly, but something about the way they stood, looking all calm and dangerous, made my skin prickle. Just as I was lost in my thoughts, my phone vibrated again. âClockâs ticking, track girl.â I swallowed hard. Part of me wanted to ignore it, lock the door, pretend I was asleep, and let them get bored until they eventually decided to leave, but another part, the competitive part that never backed down from a challenge, was already sliding off the bed and pulling on my sneakers. I didnât know what they wanted, or why my stomach flipped at the thought of seeing them again, but I wasnât about to let them think they could scare me. I grabbed my jacket, told Ivy I was stepping out for some air, and headed for the door. Like Wild Animals LUNA I pushed through the dorm doors and stepped into the parking lot, the cool night air hitting my face in the best way possible. My sneakers crunched on loose gravel as I scanned the lot, and there they were. Five tall figures leaning against a sleek black SUV that was parked under the farthest light, and even from this distance, I picked out Ryder right away with his dirty-blond hair catching the light, his arms crossed, and that same cocky stance from the field this morning. The others were also standing close and talking in low voices, but I couldnât make out faces yet, just their tall, broad shapes that took up too much space. The second I spotted them, something weird happened to me. I felt a pull right in the center of my chest like an invisible string aggressively pulled me forward and then snapped tight. My feet stopped moving without me telling them to, and I just stood there, frozen on the edge of the sidewalk, and staring. And then the smell hit me. That same spicy scent from earlier, woodsmoke, pine, and something dark and wild, rolled across the parking lot even though there were still twenty, maybe thirty feet between us, and it flooded my lungs, wrapped around me, and sank straight into my skin. My body answered in a way I didnât understand, and heat bloomed under my ribs, spread down my arms, and pooled low in my stomach. My cheeks burned all of a sudden, and my heartbeat kicked hard, like Iâd just finished a sprint. What the hell? I shook my head hard, my curls bouncing against my shoulders. Get it together, Luna. Theyâre just guys, arrogant, annoying guys who think they own the school. I forced my feet to move again, frowning so deep it probably looked permanent, and as I got closer, all five of them straightened up at the same time. Their heads turned toward me like theyâd been waiting for this exact moment, and then, just like they had this morning, they froze, going completely still with their eyes locked on me and their mouths half-open like they were seeing me for the first time all over again. I stopped a few feet away, my hands shoved in my jacket pockets to hide that they were shaking a little. I opened my mouth to demand what gave them the right to text me like that, and how the hell they even got my number, but before a single word came out, they moved. All five of them. They stepped forward at once, closing the distance fast, and then⊠with no warning at all, they started sniffing me, actually sniffing like a bunch of dogs with their heads tilting, and noses flaring as they leaned in close like they were trying to catch every bit of scent coming off my skin, my hair, and my clothes. One circled halfway behind me, and another dipped his head near my neck, and the spicy smell was everywhere now, so thick I could almost taste it. My body got hotter, the warmth turning into an ache I didnât understand, and my knees felt weak. I stumbled back, my heart slamming against my ribs. âWhat the are you doing?â I hissed, my voice coming out louder than I meant, sharp and appalled. âWhy are you acting like wild animals?â They stopped, but only barely. They were still too close for my liking and still breathing hard with their eyes darker than before, their pupils huge. The one with the jet-black hair and storm-gray eyes, who was standing closest to me was the one I expected to speak up and say something to make sense of their animalistic behavior, but he didn't say anything. Instead, the guy with the tattoos covering his thick arms, short dark hair, and blue eyes that looked ready to burn holes in something did the talking first. âShe doesnât know,â he blurted out, staring at the others like this was the worst news possible. I blinked at him, then at the rest of them. âDoesnât know what? Are you guys on drugs or something?â I looked around the circle, my voice rising. âYou realize athletes doing drugs is illegal, right? Like, career-ending illegal?â The captain-looking one, with black hair and broad shoulders, the same guy whoâd warned me off the field this morning, finally spoke. His voice was low and controlled, but there was an edge to it that made my skin prickle. âWhat the hell are you?â he questioned. I stared back at him in complete disbelief, then I looked around the empty parking lot like someone might pop out with a hidden camera, and tell me that this was all some kind of elaborate prank. When no one did, I turned back to them. âPretty sure Iâm the one who gets to ask that question,â I said. âIf youâre trying to get back at me for beating your friend in one stupid race, youâre a lot more pathetic than you look, and Iâm honestly disappointed. I thought Blackridge was supposed to be prestigious, not a daycare for losers with fragile egos.â There was dead silence, and for a second, nobody moved. I could hear my own breathing, harsh and fast, and I could hear theirs too, deeper, and rougher. Then the quiet one spoke up, the one with longish dark brown hair falling over silver glasses, and eyes that seemed to see way too much. âWe know we look weird right now,â he said calmly, like he was trying to smooth everything over. âBut we had to check something.â I wanted to scream, actually scream, but the last thing I needed on my first day was more attention, more videos, more gossiping, and more viral . So I swallowed it down and glared at him instead. âCheck what?â I asked through clenched teeth. âWhat could you possibly need to check that involves sniffing me like a bunch of dogs?â Ryder snarled, actually snarled, his lips pulling back a little, and a low growl rumbling in his chest. âWeâre not dogs,â he hissed. âDonât talk to us like that.â I scoffed, my anger overriding whatever weird heat was still vibrating under my skin. âYou sure act like it. Look, just because you have nothing better to do with your time than play creepy games doesnât mean I have to stand here and put up with it. If thatâs all the idiotic stuff youâve got to say, Iâm leaving.â I turned on my heel, ready to march straight back to the dorm and lock the door behind me. I was not only angry at them for wasting my time, I was also angry at myself for coming down here in the first place. What was I thinking? That Iâd prove something? That theyâd apologize? Stupid. I made it three steps. âWaitâŠâ one of them started, and behind me, Ryderâs voice rang out, loud and cocky again. âYouâll be seeing us a lot,â he said, and I could almost picture the smug look on his face. âSo get ready for it, track girl.â Despite my urge to tell him to go himself, I didnât turn around, didnât slow down, and didnât answer, but something inside me, something deep and confusing, wanted to. My chest still felt tight, that strange pull tugging at me like it didnât want me to leave, and the spicy scent clung to my jacket, my hair, and even my skin. My body stayed hot the whole walk back with my cheeks burning, and my heart refusing to slow down. I shoved through the dorm doors, nodded vaguely at the girl at the front desk who stared again, and took the stairs two at a time because the elevator felt too slow, and by the time I got back to my room, my hands were shaking for real. Ivy looked up from her laptop, her headphones around her neck. âWhoa, you okay? You look like you just ran a mile.â âFine,â I muttered, kicking off my sneakers and collapsing on my bed. âI just⊠needed air.â She gave me a look like she didnât believe me, but thankfully went back to her screen, while I stared at the ceiling with my arms over my face. What the hell had just happened? They sniffed me, actually sniffed me, called me a weird name earlier this morning, and have been acting like I was some kind of puzzle they had to solve, and the worst part, the part I hated admitting even to myself, was how my body reacted. That heat, that pull, and the way their scent made everything inside me feel alive in a way Iâd never felt before. I rolled onto my side, pulling the blanket over my head like that could block it all out. Tomorrow Iâd avoid them, stay on the track side of campus, keep my head down as planned, and focus on running, classes and nothing else. They were just a bunch of entitled football players with too much ego and not enough sense. Thatâs all. But even as I told myself that over and over, I could still smell them, and some stupid, buried part of me didnât hate it. Just Another Day LUNA I woke up to my phone alarm going off way too early. The room was still kind of dark, with just a little gray light coming through the curtains, and my head felt thick and fuzzy, like I had barely slept. For a split second, I just lay there staring at the ceiling, and that was when it all came rushing back, the race on the field, the video going around, Ivy showing me how everyone was talking about it, and then last night in the parking lot. Those five guys that acted like total freaks, sniffing me, asking weird questions, and making my body feel things I didnât understand. My cheeks got hot again just remembering it. âNo, Luna. Let's stop thinking about it.â I squeezed my eyes shut tight and told myself to forget everything from yesterday. All of it. I need to forget the dumb jocks and their stupid games, and I should also forget how I somehow drew all this attention to myself because of them. I came to Blackridge to run track, get good grades, and keep my head down. That was it, meaning no drama, and no boys, especially not those boys. Today was going to be different and normal, and I was going to pretend none of that happened, and start my day on a clean slate. I rolled out of bed as quietly as I could. Ivy was still fast asleep on her side of the room with her mouth a little open, and her red hair was everywhere like a wild mess on her pillow. She also had one of her arms hanging off the bed, and looked so peaceful that I didnât want to wake her. I grabbed my toiletries bag from the desk, toothbrush, toothpaste, face wash, shampoo, and conditioner. Then my towel from the hook on the closet door and a clean set of clothes for after, which consisted of a sports bra, running shorts, a tank top, and socks. Everything I needed for morning practice. As I zipped up my bag, I made a promise to myself. From today on, I was staying far away from that football field like it was the plague. No matter how late I was, no matter how much I needed a shortcut, I would go the long way around campus. I wasnât giving those guys another chance to show up and act crazy. I slipped on my flip-flops, grabbed my key, and headed out the door. The hallway was quiet, most doors still closed. A few girls were up, but not many, and the shared bathroom was at the end of the hall, past the stairs. I pushed the door open, and warm steam hit me right away. Someone had definitely just showered because the air was thick and humid, and the mirrors were all fogged up. There were four or five girls already in there, with one wrapping her hair in a towel, two brushing teeth at the sinks, and another fixing makeup even though it was barely seven a.m. The second I walked in, it got quiet. They all turned to look at me and just stared with wide eyes and little smiles on their faces that werenât really smiles. One girl whispered something to her friend, and they both glanced at me again. It was exactly like yesterday in the halls, like I had grown an extra head or painted my face blue or something. I knew why, of course. I knew that I could only blame that stupid video from the field. By now it had probably spread to everyone in the dorm, maybe the whole school. âNew girl beats football star and makes the whole team look dumb.â Great way to start the year, Luna. I ignored them, kept my face blank, and walked to an empty sink near the end. Then I set my bag down on the counter with a soft thump, proceeded to pull out my toothbrush and toothpaste, and started brushing like I didnât notice a thing. Inside, I was groaning. I wished so bad that my scholarship came with a private room, or at least one with its own bathroom, not this shared one where I had to deal with a bunch of girls who already seemed to hate me before I even opened my mouth. It made everything feel harder and made me feel like I was going to be on display every morning until the next best gossip came around. I focused on the mirror. My curls were a mess from sleeping, frizzy from the steam already, my golden-brown skin looked a little tired, and my hazel eyes were still sleepy. I brushed harder, counting in my head. Just get this done, rinse in a few minutes, shower, and then get out. Ten, maybe fifteen minutes max. After, Iâll head straight to the dining hall for a quick breakfast, then training. I thought the worst part would be the staring and them whispering while I brushed my teeth. The thought of it was annoying as hell, but I could live with it. I was good at blocking stuff out. Then I heard footsteps behind me, soft, and most definitely coming straight my way. I looked behind me in the mirror, and a tall blonde girl was already walking up to me. She was really pretty with long straight hair that looked like it took forever to blow-dry, blue eyes, and perfect skin. She had on a pink robe that looked expensive, tied tight around her waist, and walked like she owned the place, shoulders back, and head high. In my head, I hoped she just wanted something normal, like, âHey, how do you get your curls so nice this early?â or âDo you have an extra hair tie?â Anything simple, and anything that didnât have to do with football or those dumb boys I wanted zero part of. She stopped right next to me, leaned one hip against the counter, and smiled, but it didnât reach her eyes. âYouâre the new girl, right?â I kept brushing, looked at her reflection, and tried not to sound rude or sarcastic with my response. âIs it that obvious?â She let out a little laugh, but it sounded forced. âIâm Brittany. Brittany Evans, Captain of the cheer squad for the football team.â Of course she was. Just my shitty luck. I almost rolled my eyes right there, but I stopped myself. I just wanted this over fast so I could finish and get out. âCongratulations,â I said, but my voice came out flat, like I didnât care, which I honestly didnât. Her smile faded quickly, and she stood up straighter and crossed her arms over her robe. âThatâs all you have to say?â she asked. I spat toothpaste into the sink and turned on the water to rinse my brush. âWhat else should I say?â She made a huff sound. âI was nice enough to come over here and introduce myself. The least you could do is tell me your name.â I sighed, but it came out loud and tired. âLuna Merrick,â I said, keeping my response short. I dried my hands on my towel, started putting my toothbrush and toothpaste back in the bag, and zipped it up slowly. She watched me the whole time, and her lips got thinner, like she was mad. Then she just blurted it out. âI hope you donât think that just because you got lucky and got involved with the football team yesterday, youâre suddenly best friends with them or something.â I stopped moving immediately. My hand was still on the shampoo bottle when I turned slowly and looked at her for real this time, and my face must have shown everything I felt, which was nothing short of pure disgust. âWhy in the world would I think that?â She blinked, opened her mouth, then closed it like she didnât know what to say next. I didnât wait. I kept talking, my voice low but clear. âLook, I have to take a shower now and get to training, but if youâre worried about me being interested in those dumb jocks, you can relax because I couldnât care less about them, not even a little bit.â I picked up my bag, my towel, and my clean clothes, walked right past her without looking back, headed to one of the empty shower stalls at the end, and pulled the plastic curtain shut behind me with a sharp snap. I stood there for a second, breathing hard as my heart was going fast again. Had I made it better or worse? I told her straight up I wasnât interested, so that should calm her down, right? Put out whatever fire she had going. I hoped so, because the last thing I needed was more people thinking I wanted anything to do with those guys. I hung my towel on the hook, set my clothes on the little bench, turned on the water, and waited for it to get hot. Steam started filling the stall, and I stepped under the spray and let it run over me. For a few minutes, it felt good, like it could wash away all the weird stuff from yesterday, but even as I closed my eyes and tilted my head back, I knew it wouldnât be that easy. -------------------------------------------------- There are limited chapters to put here, click âlearn moreâ to open App to continue reading (It will automatically jump to the book)
