Chapter 4

The next day at school was divine for Damien because he finally got to talk to Cassandra. It was in history class. They were paired in threes to research any myth. Max, Damien, and Cassandra were in one team, and oh, how happy the poor male teen was!

“Hey, Cassandra or whatever your name is. I think the teacher made a mistake when she called out the groups. I’m always paired with Damien. You see, I’m his fiancée; we were betrothed when we were still babies, so I think you should find yourself another group ‘cause this spot is mine,” Candice stated as soon as the teacher left the class.

Cassandra stared at her in amusement and let out a smirk.

“Say what now? You want me to, uhh, choose another group ‘cause you wanna stay close to your betrothed. Wow, that’s particularly charming, but sweetie, I think I’ll pass on your offer. I’m in this team, and no one is gonna make me move out, no one, not even you.”

Candice looked like she would explode and tried grabbing Cassandra’s hair, but the latter smoothly moved aside, causing Candice to trip and fall on the floor. Worse, the students had gathered around and were recording it. Candice hastily stood up and made another move at Cassandra, but again, she failed. In rage, she stormed out.

Damien watched them in amusement; he felt proud because he thought they were fighting over him.

Soon there was calm in the class, and every team set out to find a mythical topic.

“What should we work on?” Cassandra asked Damien.

“Huh? You’re talking to me?” he asked.

“Obviously, man. Who else is she talking to when she’s facing you directly?” Max chimed in.

“Oh, uhh, I don’t know. Perhaps you should pick something,” Damien said.

“Well, I had none, that’s why I asked you, duh,” Cassandra retorted.

Max shook his head as he watched his poor friend embarrass himself in front of a girl and decided to come to his rescue.

“I think we should go with werewolves.”

“What!” they both exclaimed in unison. Cassandra was shocked because she was a werewolf, and Damien, for no reason at all.

“Wow, calm down, both of you. Werewolves are myths. I mean, we haven’t seen any; we’ve only heard of them in stories. So I feel we should do research on them and submit it at the end of the time given to us. It’s just a suggestion.”

“Oh, I like it,” Damien said.

“Well, I don’t,” Cassandra interjected.

“Why?” Damien asked.

Now it was her turn to stammer. “Who-who said they were myths? They could be real, you know.”

“Real? Have you seen any?”

“Well, yeah, I mean no. But that doesn’t mean they are not real.”

“Look, girl,” said Max, “that’s a myth. We don’t actually know if they are real; that’s why we are writing about them.”

Seeing no way out, Cassandra conceded.

***

Damien and Cassandra began spending more time together due to the project assigned to them, but it seemed they left all the work to Max, as they were always together, laughing and talking, to Candice’s envy. Each time Cassandra was close to Damien, the wolf in her seemed calm and relaxed. Because of that, the young teen began spending more time with him.

Damien, on the other hand, couldn’t describe how he felt. It was as if a flower was starting to bud in him. Staying close to Cassandra made him feel at peace, which was really unexplainable. Max was happy that at least his friend was no longer stammering, but he felt stressed as they left the whole project to him.

Candice watched the couple from afar and burned with hatred.

“Hey, Candice, isn’t that your fiancé? Why is he with the new girl and not you? I feel that they’re dating,” one of her clique blurted out.

Candice’s face was full of rage, and she gave the speaker a hard slap across her face.

“Why are you telling me that, and what is wrong with you? Don’t you ever in your life say that again.”

With that, she stormed into the ladies’ room, clutching her makeup bag in her hand, leaving the poor girl in pain.

***

“Where were you staying before you got transferred here?” Damien asked Cassandra as they sat together in the school garden.

She looked at him and smiled, causing butterflies to flutter in his belly.

“Well, I was at a place.”

“A place?”

“Yeah, a place. How about you tell me about yourself?”

“I’m the only child of my parents, the Tylers. Yeah, my father is a multimillionaire with several companies across the globe, and I get to enjoy the harvest,” he chuckled. “There’s nothing much about me and my family. How about you tell me about yours?”

“Okay,” Cassandra said, then paused to consider if revealing anything about her family could expose their werewolf side. Seeing no risk, she continued. “I’m the only child of my parents too. My dad is Sylvester, and yeah, he’s a multimillionaire too. My mom died when I was 15, and it hasn’t been easy since she passed away as she was the only one who could calm the wolf in me.”

“Wolf?”

“Did I say wolf? Perhaps our research on werewolves is affecting my vocabulary. I meant the anger in me,” she lied.

“Ohh, I’m sorry about your mother.”

“No, it’s fine. I still miss her, but life goes on, as Dad always says.”

“Hey, both of you, get up now. C’mon, I’ve been doing a lot on this project while you two are all cuddled up and chatting, leaving me to work my ass off,” Max said.

“Oh, calm down, Max. I’m coming,” Damien replied.

With that, they both stood up.

The trio worked on the project endlessly, with Cassandra contributing more ideas than the others.

“Yo, Cass, how do you know so much about werewolves?”

“Well, I do research just like you two did, and also, I hate seeing a ‘B’ on my result sheet. I’ll go to the ends of the world just to get an ‘A’ on my sheet.”

***

Each passing day, the bond between Damien and Cassandra grew stronger, so much so that Sylvester found out. Each day after school, his daughter would go up and cuddle on her bed, chatting or making calls with someone. Recently, he had been feeling strange, having a premonition that something bad was about to happen, but he couldn’t put his finger on it.

“Cassie,” he called out, but there was no response.

He walked up to her room and discovered that she was on a phone call with someone.

“Cassie, I want to talk.”

“One sec, Dad,” she replied, covering the mouthpiece with her left hand.

Seeing that the talk might be long, she hung up and faced her father.

“Who are you always on the phone with?” Sylvester asked.

“It’s a friend.”

“A friend?”

“Yes, Dad, a friend.”

“Is he of our kind or a human?” he asked after a pause.

She didn’t reply, even when he repeated the question.

“Cassandra Torres, I’m talking to you. Is this friend a human or of our kind?”

She still kept mute, which angered Sylvester. But then he couldn’t blame her, as she got it from him. He gave her one final stare before stepping out of her room.