It’s comforting.
And I love it.
“Okay,” she says. “Will you walk me to my first class? I think I’m ready.”
Chapter Eleven
Heather
I’m so not ready for this.
When I walk into my first classroom, everyone turns and looks at me. A dozen noses sniff, reminding me that I’m human and that I have a very strange scent.
“You smell like Flynn,” one of the shifter teens accuses me.
Shit.
“Uh, I’m staying with him,” I say.
“Are you mated?” A boy asks.
“No.”
“Are you going to be?” A girl pipes up.
“Um...”
The teacher takes pity on me and the barrage of personal questions.
“All right, that’s enough for the new kid,” she says. “Heather, have a seat. I don’t care where.”
I slide into a seat at the back of the class, but I’m well aware that everyone is still staring at me. So this is shifter high school, huh? Most of the kids here look decidedly normal, but they all look very, very curious.
And some of them do not look very happy that I’m here.
Fortunately, I’m only going to be at the academy for a week or two. At least, it better not be longer than that. I’m kind of itching to get back to my own life. I haven’t typed any words on a computer in a full 72 hours and I’m starting to get a little jittery.
The teacher is a tall, curvy woman with long dark hair and a bright smile. She gestures to the board behind her and starts talking.
“As you may remember from last year, the history of shifters is a complex one. Most of you are already familiar with the emergence of shifters in to the public, but I know many of you may have forgotten what you learned over the summer, and of course, we have a new student.”
Once again, everyone turns to look at me.
“All right, all right,” the teacher says. “Class, Heather is here as a temporary student. Please be kind to her. She’s a guest of Flynn’s, and he asked that she be allowed to attend classes while she’s here.”
A girl with bright red hair raises her hand.
“Yes, Cinnamon?”
“Why is she wearing a uniform?”
“Honestly, it’s so that us oldies don’t freak out when we see her. You know that many of the older shifters here aren’t particularly fond of humans. Her uniform is a protector that designates her as a student who is allowed to be on campus.”
“Plus, she smells like Flynn,” another guy says, and the room erupts in giggles.
Fuck.
Do I really smell that bad?