Royal Wolfsbane chapter 2

         The bright morning sun blazed through her window, awakening her to a new day. She stretched and yawned, arching her back to understand the tension once more. Kat grinned, looking up at the crimson red curtain above. It was part of her room decor, a style similar to that of the sixteenth century. Gothic. She'd always been fascinated by it all, and sometimes she wished she lived back in the ancient times, when the Loup Garou lived in Europe at the pique of the renaissance. Such raw artistry and poetry and philosophy.
         "Look as she lays a hand upon her cheek. Oh, if I were a glove upon that hand." She whispered aloud, quoting Romeo from Shakespeare's most famous play, Romeo and Juliet. No one talks that way anymore. Kat admitted bitterly to herself. If only she could live in that time, when love was spoken through the rhymes of magnificent poets. Iamic Pentameters and roses made true romance back then. Now, "You're a hottie." or, "I wanna take you out." was as close to romantic as anyone spoke. It made Kat sick sometimes.
         Kat sat up and took in a deep breath.
         "It's a new day." She said.
         She showered quickly and dressed, prepared for her first day back to school after spring break. She was a senior, soon to graduate. Only forty more days until she was an adult. In both of her worlds. Most of the seniors in her class, aside from the obvious Loup Garous, were applying to colleges and competing for scholarships, but not her. No, she already knew where she was going in life. She would either be the leader of her family or she would stand beside him. It was what she'd wanted since she could walk and talk. It was the life she knew and respected. It was in her blood. Blood. What did her father mean when he'd said she had her mother's blood in her? And what right did James have to insult her mother lsat night? Something was going on that her father wasn't telling her. But why would he keep secrets from her?
         Kat contemplated all this while drying her hair. It was extremely long, reaching all the way to the small of her back. And it was auburn, like her mother's, with only one exception: she had dyed her bangs a deep red.
         Her hair was still slightly damp when she grabbed her book bag and descended the stairs to the kitchen. Her bright pink tank top was clinging to her back, and her black, spanish-style skirt danced with every move. Kat laughed to herself as she remembered the odd looks she'd received from her father the first time she'd dressed this way.
         "What are those on your arms?" he'd asked, remarking the black lace arm-warmers that covered her fore-arms and hands. "And are those...Converse?" His eyebrows had nearly touched the ceiling at her knee-high Chucks. She couldn't help it though; like her, she found every article of clothing she wore to be unique in some way or another.
         "Morning." She smiled, kissing her father on the cheek as she sat down at the table. He was reading the newspaper, as always; with a full, cold cup of coffee in front of him, as always; his plate was empty aside from two bread crumbs and one piece of bacon, as always.
         "Morning, dear. Sleep well?" He peered over the newspaper at her outfit, tutted, and went back to reading.
         "Well, no nightmares, so I suppose. But I dreamt I was Juliet in that play again. Only it wasn't a play; it was real, and then I just-"          
         "Who was Romeo?" Her father interrupted her growing enthusiam as she told her story.
         "I can't remember." She said, truthfully. It was details like this in her dreams that she never could remember. All the items in her dreams, she could name off with ease, but people and faces, never.
         "Uh-huh."
         "Honestly, I can't." She stood and microwaved the plate of eggs, bacon, and toast Derek had made for her. While she waited for it to ding, she leaned against the counter.
         "You ought to take a cooking lesson, sweetheart." He changed the subject.
         "Why?"
         "Any normal teenage girl can at least boil water."
         "What do you know about normal teenage girls? And I can boil water, I just choose not to." She said defensively.
         "True, I don't know very much about teenage girls, but I know enough to know that they can cook."
         "Why should I learn to cook when my father's practically a gourmet chef?" The microwave dinged, and she sat down with her plate and a fork.
         "Your gourmet chef won't always be around, you know." He folded the newspaper up and set it down on the table.
         "Why have you been talking so strange lately, dad?"
         "I've just been thinking." He stood up and kissed her on the forehead. "At least consider the lessons, sweetheart." He picked up his briefcase, and before she could protest, he left.
         Kat groaned and took a bite of her eggs. Scrambled with cheese and mushrooms, just the way she liked it. At least her breakfast meal wouldn't be so bad.
         She had finished eating and was doing her dishes when James walked in.
         "Good morning." He said with his head lowered, as he pulled an apple from the fridge.
         "Morning." She said, her eyes on her soapy water.
         She heard him sit down at the table.
         "About last night...I'd like to apologize for my behavior. I shouldn't have disrespected you or your mother that way."
         "Why did you do it?" She asked.
         "Chris had spoken to me in the hallway while you and your father were talking."
         "What did Chris say to you?"
         "That I had no business trying to get into the fight. I was angry, and I never should have taken it out on you. I regretted it before it escaped my lips." He seemed genuinely ashamed of himself, and Kat understood that Chris could get under anyones' skin.
         "Don't let it happen again. Or your fight will be with me, not the other males." He looked up at her at this, and she half-smiled at him.
         "Do you need a ride to school?" He asked her as she grabbed a bottle of water from the fridge.
         "I don't need one; I can walk. But I suppose it won't kill me if I ride with you."
         James's car was a revamped 1979 Chevy Camaro painted black with a crescent moon on the driver's side door. Kat had to admit, it was a really nice car.
         "So you're a cars guy, I take it." She said casually as she got in.
         "Yeah." He chuckled. "I bet you don't even know what car this is, do you?"
         "Yeah, I do, actually. '79 Chevy Camaro."
         He lifted his eyebrows. "I'm impressed."          
         "Why? Just because I don't own a car doesn't mean I don't know cars."
         He turned the key in the ignition and started it. The engine revved, but nothing else.
         "Come on, baby."
         "What did you name her?"
         He tried it again. "Sidney." Nothing.
         "Hmm..." Sidney was a good name for this car. Not one she would have picked, but it was original enough for a car: Kat hadn't met another car named Sidney yet.
         "Don't laugh. She's a good car, usually. But she has her moments." He turned the key again.
         "Come on, Sid." Kat said, rubbing the dashboard. Sidney started up without a putter.
         "Now she likes you better than me? Ouch."
         Kat giggled. "First-time riders' luck." James smiled as he pulled out of the driveway.
         They were almost to the school when Kat spoke again.
         "I'm sorry for blowing up at you last night." She truly was, now that she knew what had set him off.
         "Don't be. You had every right to be angry after what I said. No harm, no foul. So how do you know cars?"
         "Well, girls have never liked me very much, as an occupational hazard, I guess. So I just hung out with the guys all the time when I was younger. Still do. Brian is actually the one that tought me the most about cars. He's a real grease monkey. Works at that garage downtown. He'll probably end up owning his own place one day. You two would probably get along really well."
         "Actually, I'm not into fixing cars. I'm just into classic cars. Sure, I can change a tire, patch it, whatever and check the oil and the transmission, but that's as far as it goes. I just love sweet rides like this." He patted the steering wheel, then turned into the parking lot.
         "Oh, I see. Well, I could probably fix Sidney if she breaks down. You might want to get her checked out though. I could probably have Brian do that real cheap. He'd love to get his hands on Sid, for sure. Just don't tell him her name. He thinks naming cars is ridiculous."
         "Thanks." He smiled at her after he pulled into a parking space. His blue eyes stared into hers, and she couldn't help but smile back.
         "Thanks for the ride." She pulled her book bag over her shoulder and got out of the car.

         The day's classes went by slowly. Starting with agonizingly boring psychology, then calculus (almost as boring as psychology), then P.E. (she was the fastest runner there). At lunch, she took a seat at her usual spot in the courtyard beneath an ancient oak tree.
         "Is there some particular reason you're following me?" She asked James when he appeared beside her.
         "You should really join track. It's not too late in the season." He sat down, ignoring her question.
         "What makes you think I'd be good in track?"
         "I saw you in gym today. You were at least a hundred yards ahead of everybody running around that track."
         "So you really are following me."
         He laughed, "I'm in outdoor rec. that hour, genius. My class was playing Ultimate Frisbee while you were doing laps."
         "Oh." She muttered sheepishly, blushing.
         "You know, not everyone is going out of their way to take you as their mate."
         "You weren't singing that tune last night."
         "Touche."
         They ate their lunch in peaceful silence. Well, silence, aside from the unruly teenagers that were horseplaying in the grass, and the girls grouped in their little huddles "hooting" and giggling at the boys.
         And then there was Mark.
         Mark, or Markus, as he was called by the adult wolves, had the insane idea that he had some sort of claim on Kat, and was always jealous of her hanging around the other males. She'd found it peculiar that he wasn't among the others about to duel for her last night.
         Mark came sulking up to where Kat and James were sitting.
         "Having fun?" He asked.
         "I was." She replied, already annoyed by his obvious objection. Mark wasn't a bad looking guy, in fact, he was quite handsome when he wasn't being a jerk. He had a sweet disposition most of the time, and had blond hair that was always in a mess, thunderstorm blue eyes, and never failed to wear fashionable men's clothes and Italian leather shoes.
         "Who's this?" He nodded at James.
         "I'm James." He tried to be friendly, but after the scowl Mark gave him, he brought his nose down and didn't look back up.
         "I take it I missed a lot last night."
         "Not really. Just an attempt at a duel. Father spoke, and the wolves dispersed. Nothing really important." Kat shrugged. Mark wasn't intimidating at all to her.
         "Has the courting started?"
         "Nope."
         "I see."
         "Yep."
         "Don't you want to know why I wasn't among the dogs last night?"
         "I'm not too curious," She lied, "But I'm sure you're going to tell me."
         "I was speaking with your father."
         "About?" She said, nonchalantly, trying to hide her interest. What did Mark have to talk to her father about? Obviously. It had something to do with you, smart one. She thought to herself.
         "About my chances of making top rank."
         "And?" What? No, no, no. Not him.
         "And he said that my chances were greater than others'." He looked triumphantly at James. Kat wanted to laugh. She mentally wiped the nonexistant sweat from her brow. Derek had only been trying to keep Mark happy. He hadn't said anything that made Mark any more special than James or Brian or even Chris.
         "Oh, well then, let's just call the rest of the pack now! This is rare news! We now have our next leader!" James read her mind as he dramatically performed this ensemble. Kat grinned.
         Mark wasn't very pleased.
         "I'm glad you find this so amusing."
         "Good, because I do. You honestly think that because you have a greater chance than others," He held his fingers up in quotations as he said "others", "that means you're going to be the next leader. That's pathetic, man. Really pathetic." James said, shaking his head and standing up. He helped Kat stand by taking her hand while she stood. A gentleman. Kat thought.
         They left Mark standing by the tree, and when they reached the door to the school building, they busted out laughing together.
         "You said exactly what I was thinking." She told him.
         He laughed. "Couldn't help it. He looked so smug; I had to burst his bubble."
         Kat giggled, then smiled. Well, he's not too bad of a guy, afterall. She thought.
         
         The rest of her classes were a blur. Her mind had been on other things for the entire afternoon. Thoughts of her father's deep words, Brian's kiss, James, Chris, they all spun around her head. When the final bell rang, and everyone gathered their things to leave, Mr. Brooks, her English IV teacher had to yell her name to get her attention.
         "Miss LeDeaux, is there some particular reason you were daydreaming through my entire class?" He asked her.
         Kat was still dazed, and didn't even understand what he was talking about.
         "Hmm?" She asked.
         "You didn't even raise your hand to perform Shakespeare's final Iamic Pentameter in Ceasar. I was hoping you would."
         "Oh! I'm sorry, sir, I was just thinking." The realization set in. She hadn't been paying attention all class, and this was one of her favorites. She'd been staring at the trees outside.
         "You've been doing a lot of that lately, I've noticed. And you're obviously not thinking about my class. I've been meaning to talk to you about the final coming up. Your past two tests have been C's. You never score below a 90%. Are you ready for this final next Friday?"
         "Uh...Yes, I think so, sir. I'm sorry about the C's. I just haven't been focusing much lately. I promise I'll be ready for the final." She grabbed her books and left the classroom.
         She found Brian waiting for her.
         "Hey." He said, not looking too happy.
         "What's up?" She went to her locker and stuffed her homework in her bag.
         "I uh, I saw you at lunch today."
         "Yeah?" She pulled her backpack out of her locker and shut it, making sure to turn the lock so it would stay that way.
         "Yeah. You were with James, I think that's his name."
         "Yeah, it is. And yeah, I was. What about it?" Please, not you, too. She begged mentally.
         "I was just curious as to how you knew him. I mean, I've never met him before. Sure, I've seen him around the house, but I've never actually talked to him. He was there last night when we came home, though."
         "Yeah, I know. He's just a friend."
         "Don't you think it's obvious what he's after?"
         "I know what he's after. But don't worry, Brian. He's just a friend, for sure. I've got it taken care of."
         "Ok." He smiled. "So, I know you're going to say no anyway, but can I drive you to work?"
         "Thanks, but no." She smiled. "Oh, by the way. James has a '79 Camaro that has trouble starting. You might want to take a look." She said before leaving.