The last four weeks had been unbelievable. Ryan Dickens, the star quarterback and practically royalty in our Blood Moon Wolf Pack, had started walking me to class. Every morning, there he was, offering a kind smile and easy conversation. It felt impossible. Me, Erica Moore, the girl with a brain that always seemed to separate me from everyone else, suddenly attracting the attention of Mr. Popular himself. Especially since his last girlfriend practically came with a built-in cheerleader uniform.

The rumors, of course, started like a summer breeze, then grew into a full-blown storm. Was it a mate bond? Ryan turning eighteen a month ago kicked off his Alpha training, and my own eighteenth birthday was just two weeks away. A tiny, hopeful voice chirped in my chest.

Just yesterday, the usual taunts from Carly and her posse escalated. As I rounded a corner, slamming into a wall of lockers, Carly's voice assualted my ears. I panicked, looking for an escape route in the hallway.

Too late!

"Well, well, if it isn't the future Alpha's little pet. Looking a little lost, Moore?" A chorus of giggles followed. My cheeks burned with a sting of humiliation, my books scattering across the cold linoleum floor. I scrambled to gather them, heart hammering against my ribs, willing myself invisible.

"Hey," I mumbled.

The locker door slammed shut with a bang, making me jump. Ryan, who had just walked around the corner, his smile faltering slightly at the scene, offered a hesitant, "Hey, Erica."

"Just checking in on Erica, here," Carly purred, batting her eyelashes at him with practiced innocence.

"Uh, yeah," Ryan stammered, glancing between me and Carly. "We were just heading to class, right Erica?"

I managed a weak nod, desperately clutching my books tighter.

"Great," Carly chirped, sounding somewhat like a subtle threat. "See you after practice, Taylor," she added, winking suggestively before sauntering away, her posse trailing behind like a pack of giggling wolves.

After practice? What was happening after practice? I itched to question Ryan, but I restrained myself. I might as well not blow this blooming relationship, or whatever interest Ryan had taking in me, with a stubborn sprout of jealousy. He might get upset if I question him about it, or would he not? My mind was at war about whether to ask him or not.

To ask him, or not to?

While I was having the mind debate, Ryan and I stood in silence for a while.

"Thanks," I finally managed. I wondered for a moment whether he actually deserved my appreciation. Technically, he didn't stop Carly. I guess his presence repelled further bullying, but how much longer could he hold her?

"No problem," Ryan mumbled, his gaze distant. "See you after class, I guess." He turned and walked away, leaving me alone in the echoing hallway.

I hated that he had to leave so soon. I was getting so used to having him around me. I loved having his attention, but beneath all this new attention, the truth of my life remained. Years of bullying, a kind of torture my own family seemed okay with, had left their mark. My brother, Jasper, soon to be the Gamma, wasn't exactly an innocent bystander either. Graduation was my only escape plan, it was the only chance I stood to having a new life outside of this present pack.

The third bell went off. I knew what that meant. My heart leaped in my chest. Cafeteria. It wasn't just Cafeteria that got me so excited. Well, it was one of the few things I looked forward to in school, but it was way more than that. Cafeteria equalled, I would be leaving class. Cafeteria equalled, I would be having lunch. And the best part, Cafeteria equalled Ryan! I would be having lunch with Ryan. A very obvious smile infested the landscape of my face, dimples holing at my cheeks.

I jolted off my seat and headed for the Cafeteria.

Everything had shifted on its axis a month ago. The social exile, the isolation – it all vanished the moment Ryan started walking me to class. Now, he was even escorting me to lunch, a terrifying prospect considering the company it entailed. While the "it" clique hadn't actively bullied me recently, the scars from their past cruelty ran deep. Still, for Ryan, I was willing to play nice.

Approaching the cafeteria table, where a few of Ryan's inner circle were already gathered, I braced myself.

Ryan turned to me, the smile on his face sent the butterflies in my stomach to eat against one another. "Hey, Erica," he said, his voice a low rumble that sent shivers down my spine. "Why don't you grab me some lunch? Cheeseburger, fries, and the usual drink, alright?"

The way he phrased it wasn't a question, but a charming suggestion. Before I could even contemplate a protest, my lips were curving into a lovestruck smile. "Sure, Ryan," I chirped, practically skipping towards the lunch line. His voice came with a measured dose of something that felt suspiciously like...sex appeal? It was correct dosage. There was no fear of overdose. Ryan knew just how much dose I needed. It was enough to make me momentarily forget the social minefield that awaited me.

I was excited to get back to Ryan's side, but the sounds of laughter emanating from the table sent a feeling of unease through me. A casual glance revealed the unthinkable – the table was now full, and nestled right next to Ryan was none other than Carly Smith. Her long, blonde hair, the color of a cheap trophy, cascaded down her back as she leaned in whispering something into Ryan's ear. She was tall and slim. Slim. That word weakened me. She was slim, and I was well… not slim. She was cheerleader perfection.

Another seed of jealously sprouted in my gut. This one was sharp and unwelcome, and it twisted in my gut. We weren't "official" by any means, but the hope that flickered within me, the hope of a mate bond, dimmed anytime I saw Diane around Ryan.

Still, I couldn't bring myself to speak to him about it. I wasn't going to make him think that I was insecure.

The "it" crowd radiated an almost supernatural level of attractiveness. It wasn't a jaw-dropping surprise as it was a common theme among werewolves.

My brother, Jasper, inherited the family look – dirty blonde hair mirroring Mom's shade and brown eyes like Dad's, only slightly lighter. At 6'3" and sculpted by constant training, he covered the pack's ideal physique.

Right next to him, the soon-to-be Beta, Derek Jones, was breathtaking. Short, messy brown hair brushed casually across his forehead – a look guaranteed to send shivers down any girl's spine. At 6'4", he possessed a strong jawline and mesmerizing chocolate eyes, a certified heartthrob. Derek's birthday fell just two days before mine. It would be a lie to say I hadn't harbored a secret crush on him for the past two years, though I'd never dared breathe a word of it. I thought it weird to feel that way because, I was crazy about Ryan too. And the worst part, they were very close. Did that make me a bad person?

Ryan's entourage included three others. Aaron Brown, a walking Ken doll come to life, stood 6'2" with short blonde hair and piercing blue eyes, complete with a charming cleft chin.

Michael Jones, the football team's running back, was 6'1" with short brown hair and hazel eyes.

The Armstrong Wilson, the quietest member at 6'0" tall. The team's kicker, he had short brown hair and watchful grey eyes. He was an observer, absorbing conversations without comment. Unlike the others, Armstrong was surprisingly kind towards me, never actively participating in the usual torment.

Completing the scene at the table was Hailey Baker, the co-captain of the cheerleading squad. At 5'9", she sported a stylish bob framing her striking blue eyes. While Hailey never actively joined in the bullying, she did little to stop it either. I'd often catch her casting me a sympathetic glance, only to melt back into the group without a word.

Turning to steer the lunch line, a shiver of fear ran down my spine. Approaching the table was Anna Tom, the bane of my existence. Anna, with her perfectly styled hair and designer outfits, epitomized effortless cool. Tall and incredibly thin, her grey eyes held a glint of malice. Dating Derek, she enjoyed tormenting me. Trips, snide remarks, even physical aggression – Anna reveled in any opportunity to inflict pain. A cruel streak ran deep within her, and I avoided her like the plague.

Maintaining a healthy diet was a recent effort for me. Standing at a towering 5'11", I carried more weight than I cared to admit – over 80 lbs to be exact. A size 16 clung to my curves, a stark contrast to the ideal weight of 150 lbs that seemed perpetually out of reach. Despite the taunts of "you'd be beautiful if you just lost weight," comments that could have filled a Scrooge McDuck money bin, I knew I possessed a certain kind of beauty. My long, blonde hair tumbled down my back when not secured in a ponytail or bun. My most captivating feature, however, were my emerald green eyes, a gift, I presumed, from unknown grandparents. My heart-shaped face, complete with a charming dimple on my right cheek, lacked the resemblance to either of my parents.

Food was my solace, a comfort I craved after enduring bullying. Holed up in my room, I found solace in mindless snacking.

My return with Ryan's lunch quieted the table. As I placed his cheeseburger and fries next to my own salad and water, the table fell silent. A quick scan revealed no empty seats; the table was full to bursting.

Carly, a smirk playing on her lips, directed her question at me. "Well, well, well, if it isn't the future Alpha's little lunch lady. Still hungry, Moore?"

Anna added. "Finally decided to embrace the salad life, huh? You could really use it. Honestly, Erica, if I looked like you, I might just...well, let's just say I wouldn't be here." A chorus of snickers erupted from the group, only to be silenced by a sharp reprimand from Ryan.

"Erica, sit," he instructed, his gaze locking with Carly's in a silent power struggle. A swallowed a knot in my throat as they both locked eyes. This made me uncomfortable. Carly finally gave in. She rolled her eyes, and with a theatrical sigh, rose from her seat. As she brushed past me, her shoulder "accidentally" collided with my tray, sending my salad, water bottle, and any hope of a decent lunch crashing to the floor.

“Watch it, lard-ass," she spat.

Anna and Hailey , unable to contain their glee, joined Carly in their cruel laughter as they exited the table. The boys, offering no assistance, remained glued to their seats. Derek, however, shot me a sympathetic glance, a flicker of something akin to regret in his brown eyes. I willed myself to believe that Ryan was oblivious to the chaos he'd caused, because he simply dove into his burger.

Swallowing back, I choked out, "Thanks a lot, Carly. That was...really nice." My voice trembled.

A ghost of a smile played on Ryan's lips as he took a bite of his burger.

So he did see what they did?

My heart dropped, and my stomach tightened. I was furious, but I couldn't act out. I had to remain the sweet little Erica. I couldn't act insecure if I and Ryan were going to become a thing.

"Hey, don't worry about it, Erica," he mumbled, his voice muffled through a mouthful of food.

The dismissive tone stung. "Easy for you to say, Mr. Popular," I muttered under my breath. "You're not the one who has to clean up this mess."

Ryan finally looked up, a frown creasing his forehead. "What was that?"

"Nothing," I mumbled, forcing a smile that felt brittle. "Just talking to myself."

Seeing the strain on my face, Armstrong spoke up for the first time. "Here," he said, reaching into his backpack and pulling out a granola bar. "This should hold you over until you can get something else."

The unexpected kindness caught me off guard. "Oh, I, uh...thanks, Armstrong," I stammered, taking the granola bar with a grateful nod.

The rest of the lunch period was a blur. I sat next to Ryan, picking at the granola bar and trying to ignore the gnawing hunger in my stomach. When the bell finally rang, signaling the end of the lunch break, I practically leaped out of my seat.

"Hey, Erica," Ryan called after me as I gathered my things. "Wait up, I want to talk to you after school."

The hunger pangs were forgotten. What could he possibly want to talk to me about? I mean, we were practically together all lunch. That must only mean one thing. He wanted privacy! He wanted to speak to me in private. And that most likely equalled, a big question!

I tried so hard to contain my excitement, but failed. "Sure," I chirped, a lightness returning to my voice. "Meet you by my motorcycle."