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"I finally figured it out!" Brennon shook my shoulder, knocking me out of my usual lunchtime daze. "I am a werewolf." I couldn't help but laugh. He was so matter-of-fact about it, but I figured he had to be joking.

"No really," he nodded, his longish brown hair bouncing of his forehead. "You know my teeth-" he pointed  at his unusual canines- "and people tell me I look like a dog a lot. Plus, I just realized that around every full moon, I wake up dog tired with no memory of the night before. And silver makes my skin itch."

My eyes narrowed skeptically at him, then I smiled. "One, you're probably allergic to silver or something, and I never hear about any 'animal disturbances.' You must be one clever wolf." I didn't believe him. Werewolves don't exist. Plus, he was cute, but wasn't as irresistible as they're rumored to be.

Brennon looked off to the side, chewing on his bottom lip. "Hmm…" For a second, I thought I had burst his bubble. "I must be…"

Stealing a chip from his bag of Doritos, I watched him. He was still contemplating it! I wanted to laugh again.

"Well, any case," he burst out of that moment, making me break the chip before I bit down. "How was your tour yesterday? Hates those little buggers yet?"

"Nope," I beamed back, "they're all super cute… and really smart." He shook his head at me.

The both of us volunteered at the local museum, participating in a program for high school students only. We give a tour twice a week to third or fourth graders, he in the morning, me in the afternoon. They were two very different set of kids, but he was only in it for the 300 dollars we get at the end of the deal and thought I was insane for loving it.

"Hey! I'm not crazy!" I defended. "I love them. I don't want it to end so soon! I mean, come on. Yesterday, they went on and on about the animals in one painting where there were none!" I was on the verging of laughing when I spoke. Maybe my partner and I got a particularly good group,  Brennon barely cracked a smile at it.

Finally, the bell rang. The classes after lunch time, Art and Theatre, were my favorite. Lunch time itself was less enjoyable. Immediately after the bell, I hopped up, giving Bren a pat on the head (deliberately like I would a dog) before I bounced out of the Black Box theater room, which was more or less literally a black box due to the fact there were no risers.

I sped through the outdoor hallway, not wanting to get caught in the traffic of lingering students that would decide to go to class a minute or two before the final bell rang. No, I was getting to class while they finished the last bites of their lunches and conversations. I was walking so fast, my side bag, which was full of several notebooks and one very thick textbook, was swinging behind me like a flimsy cape. I hate crowds.

Of course that's probably why a rammed into some poor kid as I rounded a corner, sending him and whatever he held to the concrete.

"Ah, shit," I mumbled as I bent down to help him, muttering "sorry, sorry, sorry" several times.

I guess I was embarrassed enough for the both of us, he was chuckling at the sorry flow. "It's fine," he said probably three times, the last a little louder to get my attention.

"Sorry," I said one last time, picking up his algebra book and a white piece of paper. Oh, new kid. "Koura?" I squinted at the paper, reading his name before I took a curious glance at his classes.

"Andrew," he nodded, trying to the textbook and schedule from me.

"Vienna," I grabbed his hand, somewhat forcing a handshake. "You've got Art, too." I gestured for him to follow me, smiling.

"Uhm.. I can… take my stuff." He kept up with my pace.

"Oh right," I handed him the math book, weaving through the increasingly thick crowd of students. A nosey second later, I returned the sheet of his classes.

After that, I left him alone, probably to his relief, when we got to the art room. I also had to point out the teacher, cause she looked like one of the students herself, before going to my seat at the only empty table in class. Only I and one other gal sat there. She was absent, as usual.

English. Algebra II. Art II. Theatre. I smirked at that. According to the districts standards, I no longer needed math, so I shared three out of four of his classes. That was why I was reviewing his schedule like I was. It wasn't any new kid stalker thing that some people have where they feel they need to get to the new kid first - of course he probably thought it was.

An inconspicuous cough made me look up involuntarily. It was Andrew. I was sure I had accidentally scared him away with my, for me, over outgoingness.  "Mind if I sit here?" He asked, pointing at the chair across the table.

And I just shook my head, staring doe-eyed at him. I guess I didn't get a good look at him before, but this Andrew Nanuq was quite good looking. I just hoped the typical jerkiness that seemed to lace the personality of every other hot guy at this school already didn't come with him. His smiled seemed friendly enough though… Seemed being the keyword.

Shaking my head to stop staring at him, I quickly turned to my bag needing to distract myself with my current project. I pulled it out from its carefully section off place, setting it just as carefully on the table as if it were some priceless possession. Then out came the pencil, which was placed next to it. I felt him watching me.

With a slightly sheepish look up, I saw him just staring back at me, obviously expecting something. I must've looked like some perfectionist the way I was setting everything on the table. I was only like this when I came to my art. I was very meticulous.

"Did she tell you anything about…" I pointed to the project, then the ones hanging on the walls around the room.

"Nope, just handed me this-" the syllabus- "and said you could explain everything."

Alrighty. I glanced back at Ms. Stone, but she was busy talking to a group of boys that hoped to improve their grade by schmoozing to her. I may have been the third most competent student in class, but I was crap at explaining things.  "Well, uh, right now, we have a choice of three things. This, the 'hybrid' project. You create your own creature by mixing others. There's the scratch boards. Or a grid project. Find an image and make it larger using the squares." I trailed off, watching him nod slowly. Once he realized I had stopped talking, he looked up from my animal  hybrid.

"So, you just choose one and do it." I shrugged, finishing.

"What is that?" He looked back at my drawing, turning it toward him for a better look. "An anteater, a horse… and a wolf?"

"No wolf, cat. See, look at its paws." I pointed at its clearly feline feet.

"But the tail is bushy."

"That's horse hair on a cat's tail. See the S curve?"

He looked back up at me, and I looked up at him, a challenging air crossing between us.

"Either way," I pulled my drawing back, "it's my work and you will accept was I say it is. Lets see you doing something better." Who was I to challenge what he could do? I only met him fifteen minutes ago,  but he'd challenged my work and accepted his.

"Paper's in the metal cabinet," I smirked, pointing to the right as I caught that 'You're on' twinkle in his eye.

Description
"I finally figured it out!" Brennon shook my shoulder, knocking me out of my usual lunchtime daze. "I am a werewolf." I couldn't help but laugh. He was so matter-of-fact about it, but I figured he had to be joking.

"No really," he nodded, his longish brown hair bouncing of his forehead. "You know my teeth-" he pointed  at his unusual canines- "and people tell me I look like a dog a lot. Plus, I just realized that around every full moon, I wake up dog tired with no memory of the night before. And silver makes my skin itch."

My eyes narrowed skeptically at him, then I smiled. "One, you're probably allergic to silver or something, and I never hear about any 'animal disturbances.' You must be one clever wolf." I didn't believe him. Werewolves don't exist. Plus, he was cute, but wasn't as irresistible as they're rumored to be.

Brennon looked off to the side, chewing on his bottom lip. "Hmm…" For a second, I thought I had burst his bubble. "I must be…"

Stealing a chip from his bag of Doritos, I watched him. He was still contemplating it! I wanted to laugh again.

"Well, any case," he burst out of that moment, making me break the chip before I bit down. "How was your tour yesterday? Hates those little buggers yet?"

"Nope," I beamed back, "they're all super cute… and really smart." He shook his head at me.

The both of us volunteered at the local museum, participating in a program for high school students only. We give a tour twice a week to third or fourth graders, he in the morning, me in the afternoon. They were two very different set of kids, but he was only in it for the 300 dollars we get at the end of the deal and thought I was insane for loving it.

"Hey! I'm not crazy!" I defended. "I love them. I don't want it to end so soon! I mean, come on. Yesterday, they went on and on about the animals in one painting where there were none!" I was on the verging of laughing when I spoke. Maybe my partner and I got a particularly good group,  Brennon barely cracked a smile at it.

Finally, the bell rang. The classes after lunch time, Art and Theatre, were my favorite. Lunch time itself was less enjoyable. Immediately after the bell, I hopped up, giving Bren a pat on the head (deliberately like I would a dog) before I bounced out of the Black Box theater room, which was more or less literally a black box due to the fact there were no risers.

I sped through the outdoor hallway, not wanting to get caught in the traffic of lingering students that would decide to go to class a minute or two before the final bell rang. No, I was getting to class while they finished the last bites of their lunches and conversations. I was walking so fast, my side bag, which was full of several notebooks and one very thick textbook, was swinging behind me like a flimsy cape. I hate crowds.

Of course that's probably why a rammed into some poor kid as I rounded a corner, sending him and whatever he held to the concrete.

"Ah, shit," I mumbled as I bent down to help him, muttering "sorry, sorry, sorry" several times.

I guess I was embarrassed enough for the both of us, he was chuckling at the sorry flow. "It's fine," he said probably three times, the last a little louder to get my attention.

"Sorry," I said one last time, picking up his algebra book and a white piece of paper. Oh, new kid. "Koura?" I squinted at the paper, reading his name before I took a curious glance at his classes.

"Andrew," he nodded, trying to the textbook and schedule from me.

"Vienna," I grabbed his hand, somewhat forcing a handshake. "You've got Art, too." I gestured for him to follow me, smiling.

"Uhm.. I can… take my stuff." He kept up with my pace.

"Oh right," I handed him the math book, weaving through the increasingly thick crowd of students. A nosey second later, I returned the sheet of his classes.

After that, I left him alone, probably to his relief, when we got to the art room. I also had to point out the teacher, cause she looked like one of the students herself, before going to my seat at the only empty table in class. Only I and one other gal sat there. She was absent, as usual.

English. Algebra II. Art II. Theatre. I smirked at that. According to the districts standards, I no longer needed math, so I shared three out of four of his classes. That was why I was reviewing his schedule like I was. It wasn't any new kid stalker thing that some people have where they feel they need to get to the new kid first - of course he probably thought it was.

An inconspicuous cough made me look up involuntarily. It was Andrew. I was sure I had accidentally scared him away with my, for me, over outgoingness.  "Mind if I sit here?" He asked, pointing at the chair across the table.

And I just shook my head, staring doe-eyed at him. I guess I didn't get a good look at him before, but this Andrew Nanuq was quite good looking. I just hoped the typical jerkiness that seemed to lace the personality of every other hot guy at this school already didn't come with him. His smiled seemed friendly enough though… Seemed being the keyword.

Shaking my head to stop staring at him, I quickly turned to my bag needing to distract myself with my current project. I pulled it out from its carefully section off place, setting it just as carefully on the table as if it were some priceless possession. Then out came the pencil, which was placed next to it. I felt him watching me.

With a slightly sheepish look up, I saw him just staring back at me, obviously expecting something. I must've looked like some perfectionist the way I was setting everything on the table. I was only like this when I came to my art. I was very meticulous.

"Did she tell you anything about…" I pointed to the project, then the ones hanging on the walls around the room.

"Nope, just handed me this-" the syllabus- "and said you could explain everything."

Alrighty. I glanced back at Ms. Stone, but she was busy talking to a group of boys that hoped to improve their grade by schmoozing to her. I may have been the third most competent student in class, but I was crap at explaining things.  "Well, uh, right now, we have a choice of three things. This, the 'hybrid' project. You create your own creature by mixing others. There's the scratch boards. Or a grid project. Find an image and make it larger using the squares." I trailed off, watching him nod slowly. Once he realized I had stopped talking, he looked up from my animal  hybrid.

"So, you just choose one and do it." I shrugged, finishing.

"What is that?" He looked back at my drawing, turning it toward him for a better look. "An anteater, a horse… and a wolf?"

"No wolf, cat. See, look at its paws." I pointed at its clearly feline feet.

"But the tail is bushy."

"That's horse hair on a cat's tail. See the S curve?"

He looked back up at me, and I looked up at him, a challenging air crossing between us.

"Either way," I pulled my drawing back, "it's my work and you will accept was I say it is. Lets see you doing something better." Who was I to challenge what he could do? I only met him fifteen minutes ago,  but he'd challenged my work and accepted his.

"Paper's in the metal cabinet," I smirked, pointing to the right as I caught that 'You're on' twinkle in his eye.