Sable Fields High

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Sharon’s note: High school supernatural romances are a guilty pleasure of mine, but I can admit that most of them are pretty bad. Let’s all have a little fun with them, shall we? It’s another choose your path story. Make sure to hit vote! Warning: This could get a little silly.

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Weird things I have witnessed thus far:

1. Sable Fields has way too much night life for its size. There are less than ten thousand people in this town and more than half the businesses are open 24/7.
2. Even the high school keeps strange hours. It has day and night classes scheduled more like college classes that run late into the night. Who does that?
3. I previously lived in a small town. I know what small town mentality looks like, complete with the mistrust of strangers. This place is ridiculous. People will literally turn and stare at you if you walk into the diner. 
4. The only non-chain restaurant in town is a diner called Lunar Noir and it’s  run by an extremely hairy, extremely creepy french dude. 

None of this matters to my parents, who insist that I am being overly dramatic and will learn to love the town in time. I think that they are being willfully blind and we were all going to die at the hands of a small town cult.

All that said, leaving the house for school after four p.m. is kind of cool. It’s a fifteen minute walk through a small, but neat suburb. I can just see the school down the road when someone bowls into me. 

“Whoa, sorry!” A hand locks around my wrist to stop me from falling. My silver charm bracelet digs into my skin. I find myself diagonal to the ground for a moment before being yanked back onto my feet properly. Big brown eyes blink rapidly at me before I take a step back. The human incarnation of a sheep dog is shifting from foot to foot right in front of me. He wrings the strap of his backpack with one hand and rubs the other on his pant leg like I’d stung him.

“Thanks, I guess.” Now I’m the one shifting awkwardly. It’s not often I literally run into cute guys. I’m not sure what the protocol is for these situations. 

“You okay?” He dips his head, letting a mop of dirty blond hair hang over his eyes. He peers at me sideways and I am even more reminded of a dog.

“Yeah, yeah, I’m fine, but I should head to school. I don’t want to be late on my first day. “

He perks up. “Yeah. You’re the new girl, huh? Your name is April, right? I’m Max.”

He thrusts a hand out for me to shake. Yep. Max the human sheepdog. 

“Nice to meet you.” I shake the offered hand stiffly. New people are not my thing. 

“Well, come on. I’ll walk with you.” He walks a few steps ahead and looks back at me expectantly. Unsure of how to decline, I fall into step beside him. I guess that after nearly running me over the least he could do is walk me to school.

The campus is a lot more open than I’m used to. The buildings are boring gray squares of cinder block, but the grounds are nice. People are eyeing me suspiciously, but possibly less so with Max next to me. 

A group of girls give me a particularly strong stink eye as I pass. The way the bottle-blond whose roots are showing is looking back and forth between me and Max, I’m betting that this particular glare has less to do with who I am than who I’m with. She takes a long drink from the coffee cup she’s holding and I’m glad when we pass her by. 

Scalding hot liquid hits my back and I scream. I spin on my heel to see the girls laughing at me while Bottle-Blond holds her now empty cup. 

Max is suddenly by my side and bearing teeth at Bottle-Blond. “What the hell are you doing, Clarissa?”

“Oh, sorry. My hand slipped.” She puts a hand to her mouth in blatantly fake mortification and doesn’t even bother trying not to laugh. 

“Apologise. Now.” Max takes a threatening step forward. There had been some light snickering among the other students when I’d gotten splashed. They aren’t laughing now. Clarissa’s look is melting from cockiness to fear.

I . . .

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