Chapter 6

Fiona's POV

I gripped my pen harshly with my hand, my knuckles turning white and I was surprised to see that the pen hadn't snapped in my grasp; which I was grateful for. I needed this pen for the rest of the day. I had accidentally forgotten my small pouch where I keep all of my writing utensils on my desk at home and I was lucky to find this one hidden at the bottom of my backpack.

To my relief, I heard the door open and the professor enter. He didn't bother greeting us and went straight to the lesson for the day; but this didn't stop Cicilia from continuing the conversation.

"So Blake, what do you think are the chances of me being your mate?"

Desperate much? And what was this constant talk about mates? It just sounded deviant when these people kept on saying it. Told you this was a weird town.

"I don't know, Cicilia. We'll just have to find out at the stroke of midnight," he responded nonchalantly, which surprisingly made me at ease.

"If you guys are mates, I would feel extremely sorry for the moon goddess pairing you guys up. My sister is not easy to deal with." This was the other masculine voice who had spoken earlier. Huh, so they were related. Possibly twins.

"Shut up, Anthonio! Nobody told you to get into this conversation!" She retorted, a lace of anger filling her every word.

"Well it's kind of hard not to when you're sitting right behind me."

A low chuckle erupted from someone in the group and I couldn't help but smile at the sound. I knew exactly where it came from and just the mere sound of it filled me with butterflies that were becoming extremely difficult to control.

"Well I wouldn't mind you being my mate Cicilia. There would be a few things I would love to do to you the second you realize you belong with me," another male voice responded. I can only guess this was the other guy who had been standing behind Blake that day.

"In your dreams, Marcus." With that, I could sense that she had settled herself in her seat and I couldn't be happier. Amazing how someone finds out a few names by simply eavesdropping on another's conversation without their knowledge. It's quite entertaining really.

"Alright, settle down. You may talk about Blake's party after class. Right now we must focus on your upcoming assignment. It will be a book report on one of the books on this list." He lifted up his hand and showed the class a stack of papers. Probably the names of different books we most likely had to read.

The sound of groans erupted in the class and I was pretty sure that everyone was slumping lower in their chairs, unlike me. I was already used to writing many book reports and there was no doubt in my mind that I had already read at least one of the novels on that list. I always liked reading books that were a level ahead of me. I always found it fascinating discovering new words that I could add to my vocabulary.

The professor walked around the class, handing a few sheets of paper to each student that were sitting in the front row. As I was handed my stack to pass along to the person behind me, I took a quick glance at the list. At least half of the list were books I have already read, as well as enjoyed, throughout this past summer. The only reason why I had read them to begin with was because my teacher back in Chicago had handed me a sheet that showed a general list of books which most schools in the United States had to read for their senior English class. Seeing as I had a lot of time on my hands, I read almost every single book that I was able to purchase at the nearest bookstore.

After a quick scan, I left a sheet above my notebook and passed the rest of the stack to the person behind me. A smile crept along my lips as I folded the paper in half and placed it inside my notebook. Well this was going to be an easy assignment. For me at least.

The last bell had finally rung and I was more than happy to leave AP Government. I always dreaded my history classes. It wasn't like I didn't like history or anything, the teachers that always taught them were just plain BORING! And the professor I had for this class had to be the top most boring history teacher I have ever encountered in my school years. I prefer reading out of the books rather than listen to that monotone voice of his.

I walked over to my locker, pressing in my combination before I opened it wide. These locks weren't the ones where you had to twist and turn them a dozen times before you were able to open the damn thing. These were simple. They had small number pads where you punched in a four-digit code and it opens automatically. How cool was that?

I placed all the needed materials I would use for the weekend in my backpack and left the others inside the locker. I slammed it hard, the locker protesting with a small groan as I walked away. I didn't want to stay here any longer. I needed to be in a place where I felt comfortable, or learned to feel comfortable since I had only lived there for merely a few amount of days.

As I passed through the doors, I couldn't help but smile slightly as I remembered the fishing trip my dad had planned for us this weekend.

Luckily for me, the job he currently had wasn't one that needed him practically 24/7. With this one, he was actually able to take the weekends off and spend some quality time with me.

The funny part about all of this was that we actually rent a cabin south from where we are now. When we used to live in Texas, my dad, mom and I would spend the summers there and go fishing. How funny it is that we now actually live in the same state! Well, it's not technically ours because we only rent it; but we are practically the only ones that actually do.

My dad hopes to buy it someday so when he finally retires, he can live there and go fishing for as long as he wants.

I know what you're thinking, why is a vegetarian going on a fishing trip with her dad when she doesn't eat meat? Don't worry, that answer is simple. I never actually eat the fish. I do help my dad cook it since he isn't one of the greatest cooks on this planet, but I do it reluctantly. Whenever I do, I feel as if it's screaming out in agony, begging for me to put it back in the water. Weird right?

But that's how I usually think. As my father enjoys his meal, I tend to just eat a homemade salad I bring along as I read a book outside on the back porch. That's sort of my sanctuary. My dad only intrudes whenever he thinks it's getting late and I should go off to bed. Other than that, he allows me to be outdoors in the quietness of nature as he watches something on TV in the living room. Thankfully for me, the living room is on the front side of the house, so all I could hear is the soft murmuring of the voices talking.

I passed by many cars with teenagers lounging about, talking about the party for tonight. What was so great about it? I know he is the talk of the school but do they really need to make such a big deal about it? They were acting extremely idiotic if you asked me.

It's just a party that most likely will happen again and again throughout the year. Seniors were known to party until they were partied out, especially because of all the alcohol and drugs that were sooner or later snuck in; hence the reason why I never go to any of them. That, and I never seemed to get invited. Pity.