Chapter One
Jacen has always felt out of place. It did not matter where he was, whether it was in the streets, at restaurants, at school, and even in his own home. Maybe it was the fact that he was tall for his age. He was already at five feet and ten inches and only sixteen years old. Perhaps it was his heightened sense of smell or even the fact that he tends to growl like a canine when he is angry about something.
Whatever it is, I personally don’t care, he would often say to himself. Yet, for an odd reason, he cared somewhat. He was worried the day he transferred to Glastron City High School during Freshman year. His parents warned him to act as normal as possible.
Yet, that did not seem to be much of a problem. The entire school seemed friendly and familiar. There was a certain presence he felt as he entered the school. He just wasn’t sure what it is.
As soon as Jacen stepped into the main corridor, he caught the scent of exotic cooked meat from in the cafeteria and licked his lips slightly.
“Mmm, that smells delicious,” he said, slightly surprised he said that out loud. He heard a chuckle from behind him and spun around. Standing near a set of lockers, there was a young girl with long black hair. She was holding a pile of books in gloved hands and had knee-high boots on. She flashed him a smile and he could have sworn she had emerald green eyes.
“You must be a young blood,” the girl said quietly. Jacen looked at her, unable to respond. She pushed back her hair and gave him a smile. “Yep, definitely a young blood.”
“I am sorry,” said Jacen, slightly embarrassed at his shyness. “What is a Young Blood?” Kamara giggled slightly and started walking off.
“You will find out soon enough, newbie,” Kamara called back as she headed into a classroom. Jacen then heard a bell sound over the intercom and recalled from past schools the bell meant one minute to get to class. He quickly pulled out a schedule and looked over it, quickly. Mmk, first class is Mr. Alexander’s Creative Writing. he thought. Room 112 He stuffed the schedule back in his pocket and rushed down the hall, in search for Room 112.
A second bell sounded just as he stepped through. The teacher, who was standing next to the chalk board, glared at Jacen and Jacen thought he heard a rumble in his throat.
“You are lucky you made it on time,” Mr. Alexander warned. "Take a seat in the back, next to Ronar Flemmings." Jacen nodded, gulping slightly. Jacen headed to the back seat and found an empty seat next to a brown-haired boy with glasses and blue eyes similar to Jacen's. Mr. Alexander cleared his throat and turned back to the board.
"Anyways, as I was saying," the teacher continued. "I am Mr. Sean Alexander, your instructer for Creative Writing- year one. You may address me as Sean or Mr. Alexander." The teacher wrote some words on the chalkboard and waited as the students copied down the words.
Writing Exercise One the board said. Describe your childhood briefly. Minimum of three paragraphs required. This is due at the end of this period.
“Each class period, you will have a Writing Exercise whereas you will focus on the topic on the board,” explained Sean. Jacen picked up his bag and rummaged through it until he pulled out a clean sheet of paper and a pencil. He laid the sheet on the desk and started writing down what was on the board. However, upon writing, the pencil broke and Jacen instinctively raised his hand.
“Yes, Jacen,” Sean asked, narrowing his eyes at him.
“May I sharpen my pencil?” he asked politely. Again, he heard a soft growl coming from the teacher.
“Most certainly, Jacen,” he answered. Jacen nodded his head and got to his feet. Sean narrowed his eyes once more. “Where are you going?” A snicker came from Ronar’s direction.
“To sharpen my pencil, sir,” Jacen answered. Sean then sighed and flashed a smile.
“I almost forgot that you are one of those transferred students,” Sean said. “You obviously haven’t realized your potential quite yet. You will soon enough.” Jacen wasn’t sure how to respond, so he sat back down. There was a tapping on his shoulder and he turned his head to see Ronar handing him a pencil.
“Here, you can use one of mine,” Ronar said quietly. “You can pay me back later.” Jacen nodded and flashed a smile, taking the pencil. The teacher nodded an approval at Ronar’s actions.
“It would appear that Ronar has learned the first rule of this class,” Sean said, walking towards the back and putting his hand on Ronar’s desk. All the other students looked back as Sean smiled at Ronar. “This class acts as a pack. Each pack member must help his or her own packmates.” Sean nodded at Ronar and turned back around and headed to the front.
to be continued)
