• When I got home, I couldn’t stop thinking about her. Her bright orbs and how
    they lit with surprise in response to my words to Sky, the school whore who had been after me since 7th grade, and how she tried almost desperately to ignore me until she got into her car, refusing my assistance inside. She wouldn’t even look at me as she backed up and drove off and I so desperately wanted to look into those beautiful eyes even though they held sadness that confused me. How could such a girl hold sadness such as that?
    I kept thinking of her body pressed against my own urging one until the point of bursting, liquid fire wetting our already sweaty skin, her face contorted so wickedly into a look of bliss and pleasure that I knew would feel so good for both of us. Like a Heaven I was never once allowed to feel. Her hair slung to the side as she looked down at me from her high perch, her skin sliding so easily, silk in my grip, her hands sending violent, needy shivers down my spine.
    I shook my head and sighed. I could tell she wasn’t interested, her actions spoke clearly. The way she so desperately tried to get rid of me, how she spoke to me or glared. She hated the male species and only a few people knew why. I was not one of them and I probably never would sadly.
    I sighed once more in yearning frustration and went to my shadowed room, moving quietly with a ninja like stealth so I wouldn’t wake my supposed mother. She wasn’t really my mother and this wasn’t really my house but it was my night to stay here. In a few weeks I wouldn’t have to come back here since then she would be moving and I would stay forever more at the home my parents had and that I had rebuilt. My real mother and father had been murdered when I was young and I was left with an inheritance that kept me well for a fairly long time, the job for a bit of side cash since the inheritance was to be used for when it was really needed, and a foster parent.
    I could tell she had been crying, a pile of Kleenex in the wastebasket. I reached my room and grabbed some clothes before going to the bathroom back down the hall. It was my daily routine for this house. Come home to find her crying, Kleenex everywhere, the smell of tears in the air before I went to get ready for bed.
    Thinking of that girl had made my animal instincts come forth and I knew I needed to satisfy it or I was going to suffer all night which was never fun since I would suffer dreams. I went to the toilet, sitting down as my imagination went wild.
    “God, if only,” I thought to myself. I sighed as I cleaned up and got ready for bed. I knew it was going to be a long night and that another round was inevitable in the morning.

    “Mira, what the Heck did you do to your hair?” Markie laughed as I walked up to the table. I felt like being wild that day so I teased my hair and sprayed the Heck out of it. Now it just looked like some 80s rocker gone punk or something.
    “I got bored this morning,” I replied, shrugging a little with a smirk. I decided to wear a figure hugging black band T and a tight pair of jeans that didn’t really flare too much over my black Van’s. Over the shirt, around my waist was a studded belt. I finished with a wristband that said ‘I don’t suffer from insanity, I enjoy every minute of it’, words that were far too true, and a pair of angel wing earrings, which were totally hypocritical to my nature.
    Everyone stared as I walked by but I didn’t care too much and never really did. Let them stare if they want, I didn’t give a dang who thought what and I didn’t care why. I just wanted to be a rebel that day and probably every other day if I could.
    “Whoa! What’d you do? Stick your fingers in a light socket or get struck by lightening?” a voice joked behind me. I growled to myself before I turned to face it.
    “Har har smart alic. What about you in your Heartbreak Kid meets the army get up?” I asked Kenny as he smirked at me. HBK was his favorite WWF wrestler or whatever the Heck they’re calling it these days. I hadn’t seen it since before the new (in this case, probably old now) girls came. He was wearing his army outfit, the pants stretching over steel toed boots, his jacket open to display a black beater and his hair pulled back in a ponytail.
    “No seriously, haven’t you heard of a comb before?” his buddy Roger asked. He wore the same get up as if they called to see what the other was wearing but his jacket was buttoned up and his hair down.
    “Sure I have, but instead of combing down, I chose to go upwards,” I replied, rolling my eyes since he looked as if he hadn’t heard of a bath before.
    “Woho, who’s bringing sexy back?” I heard behind me as someone grabbed my hips and swung them from side to side. I growled and turned to punch Nick. He was one of the few who were still desperately after me, always being a pervert and trying to get into my pants, which drove me insane. He was usually found with a few bruises and I had even broken my finger slightly when I punched him in the face with a lot of force and my hand hit bone.
    “You look so funny!” Markie laughed as she nearly fell off the bench, Alec laughing with her as he held her by her waist close by, in kicking distance.
    “I think it looks sexy, wild even,” Layton’s voice chuckled behind me. I groaned and looked at him with that ‘you kidding me?’ look.
    “Yeah, you do,” Nick chuckled, wrapping his arms around my waist. Layton growled, glaring, which made Nick let go quickly. I was getting sick of this boy, he had welcomed his stay a little too long for my tastes.
    “What do you want? We went on that date, you got part of what you wanted, now go away,” I growled before turning back to talk to Markie, trying to ignore him completely and hoping it’d make him go away.
    Suddenly arms went around my waist as he pressed me tight against him, a shiver running down my body with his grip unbreakable. He began to drag me off towards the field house. Markie tried to get up and help me but Alec held her down. Everyone else just stared unwilling to help me. I started to scream in protest but it quickly died out with a hand slapped over my mouth. I kicked and punched, prying at his hands.
    Finally he let me go, pressing me into the wall when I turned to face him so that I could yell at him. He came close to my face, one hand at my side, groin pressed to mine while the other hand was pressed next to my head on the cold wall. He was too close for comfort.
    “What is your problem?” I spat, anger coursing through my body. He smiled as he reached in, his lips pressed lightly against mine, quickly before I had time to react. I snarled and pushed him, making him stumble slightly before he grabbed me and pulled me roughly back into the wall. His body was tight to my own and I could feel that he had some issues in the lower department. I should have known the pig was after a good time.
    “I can’t stop thinking about you, your body and the way your attitude draws me. I find myself in a bit of a situation,” he replied lightly, yet I could hear the slight strain to not groan in his voice. He came in to kiss me again and this time I turned my head. He kissed my neck, then took in a deep breath. More shivers crept across my skin.
    “You smell good. Is that Vanilla I smell?” he asked, slightly breathless. My lips curled and I wanted to just knee him straight in the balls to see him cry and walk away with satisfaction.
    “Layton, if you want to touch the lower region ever again, I suggest you get away before I knee you so hard that you’ll never be able to use it for anything ever again.” He chuckled in response.
    Before I could move, he grabbed my legs and spread them around his hips tightly, enabling me from carrying out my threat. He pressed my hips tightly to the wall, his knees pressed under me so I couldn’t get my legs out.
    “You Son of a…. let me go!” I snapped angrily. His hands started up, warm although slightly rough. Perhaps from heavy labor? Doubt it. I gasped and pushed his hands away quickly. A distressed growl erupted from him and he grabbed my hands, pinning them to the wall above my head with one of his broad hands around my wrists. I hissed in response, turning my head as he tried to kiss me once more. He smirked, his pants getting louder.
    “You know you want it, , my hands on your body, licking up the vanilla from your skin, dominating you,” he whispered in a deeper voice, probably with the lust that was apparent in his actions, his hands on my skin with small caresses to the side and his tongue on my neck. I didn’t want to admit anything, not even to myself.
    I was about to retort but when I looked into his eyes, they were no longer the playful emerald that I had seen in the hallway yesterday. They were olive green with the slightest hint of red like pain that looked all wrong. It confused me. Plus the voice was all too wrong.
    “You’re not Layton, are you?”
    ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

    I stopped my caresses of her delicate skin and pulled back, the vanilla scent still fresh in my nostrils. A smile slid across my face for some reason that confused even me as if something new was suddenly made apparent.
    “What would make you think that?” I asked lightly.
    “Your eyes.” I cursed in my head as the smile slipped away and a growl replaced it. I had stepped back slightly, which allowed her to move forward. I slammed her back into the wall, my hand at her throat. She hissed as she hit hard, then shook her head to rid herself of the knock out I thought would come, then she glared. She was perhaps starting to get peeved?
    I noticed the change in her eyes as well and my grip tightened on her throat, my eyes narrowing. Her eyes were now grey, but not tired gray. There was yellow, blue and red sparkling like an under coat or glitter for the eyes.
    “It seems you are illed as well,” I snarled, tightening my grip more. I felt stronger, more angered.
    “I wouldn’t say illed, I’d say religiously incorrect,” she replied easily as if she were the one who had her hand at my throat. Perhaps she did and she was just toying with me. This peeved me off far more.
    I snarled, punching the wall next to her. She didn’t move except to close her eyes. I wanted to see her flinch, to see her become scared. Her heartbeat ran in my ears, nearly normal with just a centimeter pick up in speed. Screw this woman! It’s like nothing affects her. She was playing with me, seeing how long it would take until I would break! I would never break. I won’t let her win! I growled, far more angered as things flashed in my head, confusing things.
    In one fell swoop, I took her into my arms and kissed her deeply, roughly as if to ravage the very breath from her teasing body. She snarled into the kiss. I reared back quickly, snarling as well but for a far different reason. Blood trailed from my mouth lightly and I tapped it away, glaring at her as I did so. She had bitten my tongue hard. I had felt sharp canines pierce the muscle.
    I couldn’t stop myself as I grabbed her and dragged her behind me to the men’s bathroom. I would show her whose boss. There was no one in there when I had checked so I threw her in and locked the door behind us. She went to the far opposite wall, snarling and growling, daring me to come closer to her. I laughed at her pettiness, one that wasn’t mine. She was playing my game now.
    I walked right up to her, pulling at my clothing. I grabbed her by her slim hips, pulling her tight, my mouth ravaging hers. Surprisingly she allowed it but with absolutely no emotion as if she were just a doll that I toyed with every night. I wasn’t going to last long enough to fight with her. God I needed her, to see that pleasure strained face, her eyes pleading for the release I couldn’t allow to come, wouldn’t.
    I began to play with her clothing. She still didn’t move nor did her beautiful, captivating eyes even look at me any more. Why? Why wouldn’t she look at me?
    She was beautiful even with the teased hair, half undone tight denim jeans and the T to her collarbone. Her hands were pressed flatly to the wall behind her, everything spread out for me to take. But I couldn’t. God this woman knew how to antagonize a man.
    “Why do you torture me so? Why are you so beautiful yet so deadly and unloving?” I asked her, my voice light as my hand went to her cheek so that I could lightly turn her head to face me and look into those sadness ridden eyes.
    Except there is no sadness, just anger, an anger that made me draw my hand away like her touch was burning me. It had scared me. I had peeved her off, I saw it there and I cursed to myself for the stupidity I had committed. She was right about men, we are pigs and I had badly proven it.
    Laughter filled my head and I stepped back, my hands cradling as if they’d massage everything away. I could hear the yells getting louder in my ears until I realized they were mine that I was hearing. I looked at her and the anger still stayed in those blue eyes. No compassion, no fear, no sadness, just hate. I became hurt, my heart aching for some reason as I feel to my knees.
    “Why do you look at me like that? Why do you hate men so?” I asked her, close to tears.
    “Because men just love me for my body, nothing more. You’ve proven my point,” she replied before she walked coolly by me. I stayed on my knees as I heard her adjust herself. My hands laid in my lap as if pleading, the fingers spread as if waiting to receive something that will never be. Until now, pounding on the boy’s bathroom had gone to deaf ears. Now that was all I heard besides the light click of the door lock and words that came back to me all jumbled up so that my mind couldn’t comprehend them at all. I screwed up. Badly.

    ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

    I went back to those who I called my friends but only to grab my things before I went to homeroom, refusing to talk to anyone even as they got up to ask what happened. I held up my hand before they could speak, to ask questions and waved it quickly off. They all sat down at that as I turned and walked away quickly and angrily.
    I decided to go straight to homeroom and hang out where no would find me since none of them knew about my homeroom or where it was even located. It’s not always bad to have friends who don’t care about much in my life.
    I took out my notebook, writing in it a story line that I knew would be a good one even if it needed revision in the end until people filed in and the Pledge of Allegiance was spoken. I had never really stood up for it. Under God wasn’t my idea of a country or a school teaching.
    I looked at my color-coded schedule and groaned. I had Geometry first, which meant Lia AND Tanya were going to be asking me questions like there’s no tomorrow. I would rather shoot myself then answer a million questions that every body has. It angered me pretty easily sadly.
    Marshland handed me a small sheet of paper and I sighed. Probably a reminder of the fee from the library I had for the textbook that I had returned a day too late since we had had another assignment for it in History.
    I opened it and became a bit confused. Defiantly not a fee reminder. The words were hand written as if it were quickly written rather then the neat typed sheet that this school was pretty well known for. I read it briskly and groaned again, slamming my head down onto the desk with a loud thud, causing a few of the students to look in my direction questioningly.
    “Mira, are we doing okay?” Marshland asked in his soft tone. I lifted my hand just long enough to give him a sarcastic thumbs up, then put my notebook away and went to the office, to Muñez’s office. I knocked in a none too happy tone.
    “Come on in,” his Latino voice called through the thick oak doors. I sighed and grabbed the cool to the touch brass knob, turning it as I pushed my way inside.
    I had been in there a few times and his small room seemed to always change whether it was the pictures of his young, beautiful wife in a one piece swim suit during the summer days or his twin daughters playing in the autumn leaves, the black wood frame cutting off a bit of the background, or perhaps even the arrangement of his semi clutter filled desk. Muñez was a heavy weight Latino with black hair and chocolate brown eyes. He was a pretty nice guy, always talking and playing with the students but he had a firm grip when it came to punishment. Except when it came to me. He never really cared when it came to things I had done but that wasn’t always a bad thing I guess.
    I walked inside, then stopped dead in my tracks. There he sat, his emerald eyes on me, but the playfulness was now completely gone from them, their colors slightly dulled as if someone erased the twinkle that I had seen so easily yesterday. He looked away slowly, in shame from what I could see. There was blood dripping profusely from his hand even though a bandage had been wrapped around it with care.
    He must have punched something pretty hard to cause that large of a wound in that short amount of time. Perhaps the wall or one of the toilets. Punching another person could never cause that much damage even if the kid had head gear the size of Texas or even Russia.
    “What’s the meaning of this?” I asked, my eyes flickering to Muñez as I moved my heavy duty, screw it, just plain heavy pack further up onto my shoulders to help with the weight that seemed to pull my body to one side. Muñez didn’t bother looking at me. He had his eyes on Layton.
    “Please Mrs. Kellings, sit,” he waved his chubby hands lazily to the chair next to Layton and I knew that could possibly be bad news.
    “No thanks, I’m much more comfortable standing,” I replied. He gave a light shrug, his fingers entwined together, telling me that this little meeting was a great concern to him. My first thought was that this was going to be fun. My next thought was the questions were going to come rolling in nonstop, unless something happened and I wouldn’t be hearing them.
    “I’ll cut right to the chase since I know you don’t like too much detail. It seems we had an incident this morning involving you and Mr. Case here. People say they saw you come out after they pounded on one of the boys’ bathroom doors, which happened to be locked, then found Mr. Case kneeling on the floor in a rather concerning matter. Care to explain that one to me Mrs. Kellings?” Muñez asked, his eyes turning to bear into my own.
    I looked at Layton and noticed the hint of a cringe. I hated Layton, my heart and soul knew that and so did everyone else who hung around me but I couldn’t blame him no matter how hard I tried. And I tried hard. I sighed and put a fake yet convincing smirk on my face, my arms crossed over my chest to show my usual attitude. I wasn’t a tattler nor a cheapskate who passed blame. God smite me.
    “I got a little… on what’s the word… routtie, that’s all. Luckily I caught myself before I did anything to inappropriate with Mr. Case here. He was just so yummy looking, I had to try but then I thought better of it and walked out,” I replied with an uncaring shrug. My eyes went to Layton as his head swung in my direction, eyes wide like an owl. My eyes turned back to Muñez.
    Muñez sighed and took his glasses off, which made him look some what decent in the black and white business suit and red stripped tie, then rubbed the brim of his nose as he leaned back into the chair, making it squeal out in protest under his massive weight. The light bounced off of his darkly tanned skin and black hair.
    “Well then, we’ll have to give you the correct punishment. You will be suspended for a couple of weeks. Your parents can come get your schoolwork every day.”
    “I don’t have parents, remember moron?” I snarled, turning to walk out the door. I was most of the way down the hall to grab my things when I heard running. I grumbled, wanting to be left the Heck alone for once.
    “Why did you take the blame?” Layton asked.

    ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

    She stopped and my heart nearly skipped a beat. I hadn’t expected I’d chase after her but I certainly didn’t expect her to stop with my question. I waited for her reply with impatience while she just stood there, not even moving.
    “Well? You could have turned me in and had the satisfaction, so why didn’t you?” I asked. Still I received silence, which began to peeve me off. No, I must keep cool, other wise I could repeat my mistake and I’m pretty sure she wouldn’t take the blame a second time.
    “I may hate males and I may especially hate you, but I will never rat someone out. I may be a mean sone of a gun and to many, a whore, but never a rat,” she finally replied before she began to walk away like in the movies as the hero rides into the sunset.
    “Wait!” I exclaimed, running after her, grabbing her by the shoulder. She knocked my hand away quickly, a flash of fear in her eyes before it was quickly replaced by anger more confusion on my part.
    “Being a lost puppy doesn’t suit you Layton. Go back to being the pit bull and to the girls who swoon over you in numbers and forget about me. Everybody else does,” she said lightly, turning to walk away once more.
    “Well I’m not everybody else,” I called after her without even thinking.
    “Yes you are Layton. Just watch. You’ll forget.”

    A few weeks went by and she had still not returned. I wanted to prove her wrong, to prove that I will never forget her. The first few days she plagued me in my imagination and my dreams, her body my stress reliever. I kept thinking if she felt this good in my imagination, what of real life? God I wanted to know so badly, to let my encaged animal come out and ravage her and watch her squirm and gasp with pleasure. It excited me completely.
    But soon my mind began to slip and I couldn’t remember her beautiful face, then the look in her eyes, just a name that floated like useless knowledge. Don’t forget Mira I kept telling myself over and over angrily but my mind was slipping. She didn’t return the week she was supposed to and I was on my last memory of her.
    “Have you heard from Mira?” I asked Markie. She looked at me, slightly tilting her head as if I had confused her greatly. I didn’t like that thought, at all, the thought of a person who had been best friends with the missing doesn’t remember her.
    “Who?” she asked. I stepped back in shock and, to my surprise, fear. Even her best friend didn’t remember her, was I the last one? Confusion lit inside my mind. How was everyone forgetting her? It didn’t make sense. I decided I would never forget her, writing in a journal of the things I could remember, becoming desperate to keep her close in every way possible. Pretty crazy considering I had just met her a couple of weeks ago and only for a couple of days but perhaps that’s where the saying comes from. Perhaps I’m in love.
    I wrote every day, reading what I had before so I wouldn’t ever forget it again. Even when she was gone she drove me insane! Girls still annoyingly swooned but I no longer had interest in them. I continued to write, notebooks full until I ran out of notebooks, then I’d use my paycheck from the construction job to buy more. I had stories to tell of the night I held with her and how my thoughts seemed to go blank before I remembered from the night before’s little scribblings.
    Her friends went on like she never existed and so did everybody else. Then my thought came up with something. Could she not have parents because they do not remember her very existence? Or were they truly dead? I wanted to find out but I didn’t know where to start. There could be hundreds, maybe even millions of Kellings out there that I didn’t know about. I looked it up for any around here, but none existed here but there were many in other parts of the country. I had to think, to come up with a better plan. I wanted to know. I needed to know.
    One day I panicked. I couldn’t remember where my journals had gone, why they had disappeared. I tore up my room and looked everywhere, but still I did not find them. I thought I’d go insane, kill to find, die if I didn’t. They were gone and so was her memory. Slowly she faded and slowly, my sanity with it. She would be gone; I would never see her again.
    Weeks went on where I didn’t remember a thing. I was still uninterested, waiting. But I didn’t know what I was waiting for. I couldn’t remember why I was so desperate to wait, to find. I threw myself into sports and school until I was near exhaustion. Still I went on.
    Then one day I did see her and knew it was her as if I had never forgotten. I was driving home from an unpleasant football practice and saw movement from the corner of my eye. I looked and her soft features that drew me in and even softer hair that took me by surprise. At first I just stared, looking to see what this strange woman was doing way out in the cold woods with just a pair of simple torn jeans and a tank, never once realizing. Then everything came flooding back to me and I knew I had to talk to her. I got out of my large truck after stopping it on the side of the road and raced in after her.
    “Mira!” I called, my voice nearly giving out. She gasped and looked at me; her blue orbs wild like that of an animal’s. Then she turned and hightailed it further into the cover of the trees. I gave chase, afraid to lose her again. She was fairly quick but I was just as quick.
    “Mira, please wait up!” Still she did not stop. All I could see was her beautiful, frantic form dodging stray, grasping branches and leaping outstretched obstacles like they were nothing, like she was an animal of this maze of a forest. I did my best to follow in her footsteps, even if I wasn’t as graceful as she was.
    I needed to stop her somehow. I looked as I ran, then noticed a small log lying amongst forest debris. I picked it up, light in my hands, then threw it at her feet. She went down, yelping as she fell into the colored leaves. I quickly ran to her as she tried to regain her footing to run again, pinning her hands to the ground along with the rest of her slender body with my own.
    “Why didn’t you stop?” I asked in a frustrated snarl. The leaves rustled underneath our weight as she struggled to get away and run once more.
    “Mira, where have you been?” I asked of her, my voice gentle, our faces inches from each other. The vanilla scent was still there but a hint of forest wavered over it. She looked thinner, her eyes glittering with wild confusion from what I could see. She didn’t look at me at all as her chest fell and rose quickly and I felt a stab to my heart.
    What did I expect? After what I had done to her, after the proof her outrageous theories was demonstrated, should I have expected any different from her? I gently turned her head with a gentle hand even though she fought and looked into her eyes. I wanted to lean down and kiss her blissfully, rid her of her burdens with my arms and to show her just how much I thought about her, how I loved her even if I still wasn’t sure in my thoughts.
    “How do you remember me?” she asked softly as if she didn’t like being caught or even remembered and by me no doubt.
    “I nearly did but I held on, kept trying to remember. How can I forget you? You plagued me every damn night in my troubled sleep, your now cold, hate filled, eyes peer into my mind’s eyes and I just can’t forget,” I replied softly.
    “But why? Everyone else has forgotten me; I’m free to roam as I wish once more. Why have you come?” she asked. I couldn’t stop myself any longer. I reached forward and kissed her deeply, my lips pressed against hers. Words were useless to me at this second. At first she didn’t back away, her warm skin pressed against my body. Then I broke the kiss quickly breathlessly before she grew angry.
    “I don’t know, I just began driving home when I saw you in this wood and knew I had to confront you, hear your sweet voice once more,” I replied. She stared up at me, her eyes mixed with different, confusing emotions that I couldn’t quite depict but I wanted to so badly, to know how she truly felt about me or this moment.
    “You know the romantic gooey stuff is supposed to come after we actually go on a date and then break up, not when you barely know the girl,” she replied quietly after a while.
    “Then date me Mira and lets skip the break up part,” I replied hopefully. She sighed lightly and shook her head; making my stomach do silly circles and my heart skip beats.
    “Why not? Please Mira, I can’t get you out of my head. It’s like those beautiful eyes opened something that is obsessed with you. I, I think I love you,” I whispered, sliding my hand further down to her back, pulling her slightly into me.
    “That’s impossible, only another,” she paused slightly, slowly, “wolf could love me.” Her words came slowly, almost in astounded realization. Another wolf? She was a wolf as well? No wonder why I felt so wolfishly dominate over her and she dominated my mind, her sweetened scent torturing my every sense. I should have realized instantly at first sight, those slim but strong, appealing legs that could run long distances in such a short time, that sexily muscular body that many men feared and yet lusted for and the attitude. That is if the scent hadn’t given it away first. Perhaps I’m losing my touch but then again, she never noticed either. She had the full package of a wolf’s ideal mate, one that he could take proudly and make pups with, to love and nurture, to create with.
    That’s when I realized the spice that rose over me seconds later. A spice that triggered every urge in my body. The sweet spice of heat as it pooled in her core, on her breath. It was so deeply ebbed into her being that even she didn’t realize it.
    “Do you wish for a mate?” I asked of her.