Young Writers Society

Rewritten!

Hopefully eveyone likes this!

***BE WARNED! It is more than a little rough so I need as many critiques as I can get! ***

**Edited as of Sept. 15**

((it's a bit longer than the last version Sorry))

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CHAPTER ONE

The cool morning air sends shivers along my back as I clutch my books closer to my chest. My sweater is only a thin barrier against the winter chill. However, I can’t help but marvel at the beauty of nature around me.

Winter transforms everything.

The trees are bare of their normal jacket of lush leaves. Instead, they are heavy with white powder like frosting on a cake. The wind swirls clouds of white dust around me. My sharp eyes catch individual snowflakes – all different and intricate. I snatch one from the air with my tongue, and it melts, reducing to a spot of water in my mouth.

Abruptly, I feel a smack on the back of my head, snow trickling down my sweater. I whip around but see no one. Smiling wickedly, I set my books on a dry spot in the road. Pulling up the sleeves of my sweater, I scan the area. There isn’t a twig out of place, a pebble that isn’t startled.

That’s when I smell him.

A strong scent like the cologne the human boys wear filters pass my nose. I lick my lips and shoot behind the nearest tree. I hear a ghostly chuckle, and see Carmen crouching above me in the snow-covered branches. He leaps, and I step sideways, allowing him to land gracefully in front me. Soon the whole group appears on the road, jumping from near-by trees and slipping out of bushes. “Morning, Sophia,” Carmen greets, a dazzling smile playing across his lips. His blonde hair hangs in his eyes, damp from a previous snowball fight.

“Morning, Carmen,” I smile, and he ruffles my hair affectionately. “Dover, Michael, Nate, Randy.” I greet each one. All their hair is wet, dangling in their eyes. Dover and Nate, the only twins in the Coven, stand side-bye-side, their features identical. I even have a hard time telling them apart, but with one whiff of the surrounding air, I know exactly who each of them are. Dover’s scent is salty, like the ocean, while Nate’s is musty, like dried leaves.

Grinning at them both, I turn to Randy. He is the tallest of the group, almost seven feet tall with wiry muscles and a head of thick black hair that is pulled back into a pony at the base of his neck. His scent is very distinct— rich, similar to a recently extinguished fire,

My eyes then land on Michael. I laugh, unable to resist. He stands out against the stark-white snow, his head like a carrot top, his figure lean. He smiles at me, knowing of what I laugh about. The air around him is thick with his scent like the nectar the pine cones create.. That’s when I notice that they crowd around me, and I feel trapped. Narrowing, my eyes at Carmen, I speak, “What is it?”

Carmen sighs. “I know you’re mad because Philip made you return to school.”

“You think?” I growl, pushing between Michael and Randy to gather my books.

“Sophia,” Carmen coos, pulling me around to face him. “Philip is only looking out for you.”

“Yes, I bet the best position would be to send me where there are even more humans around,” I scoff and cringe as I think of my horrible mistake.

“Everyone slips up,” Carmen assures me, stroking my cheek.

“Have you? Have any of you?” I back away, pointing at all of them. “I should’ve been killed but—“

“You weren’t,” Carmen says harshly, as if the mere thought causes him physical pain.

“No, I wasn’t,” I agree. “But why is that, Carmen?” I raise an eyebrow, and the whole group stiffens.

I can feel the tension, and Carmen’s eyes take on a hypnotizing stare. “You don’t believe that,” he whispers seductively.

I shake my head, breaking the spell. “Don’t you dare use our own powers against me,” I glower. “I know what I believe and that’s that.” I stalk off into the school parking lot, leaving Carmen and his gang to lag behind.

In the school, I freeze. Children mill around me, their blood thick in their veins. I can hear every heart pounding in unison from their chests, every breath taken from their lips. Their strong scents excreting from their pores enter unwillingly into my nostrils. One female in particular catches my attention. She keeps rustling the air with her hair, sending shocks through my system. Her heart is pounding louder than all the rest as she converses with a tall male. I can feel my eyes take on a deadly glint, my pupils dilating to a hungry mossy-green color. I take a step towards her when Carmen’s scent washes over me. It is the strongest of them all, blocking out all others. I can hear his steady breathing and a faint tick of a long-deceased heart. “Control is the key,” he whispers, his voice husky.

I breathe rapidly, closing my eyes. Carmen backs away and the humans hit me again; but this time, I am prepared and slowly, I am back in control.

When I open my eyes, Carmen stands in front of me. “See,” he praises, and I nod happily, proud of the amount of control I was able to have.

“Now, let’s get to class.”

* * * *

When lunch arrives, I’m surprised at myself. I have gone through three whole classes without incident, but I hesitantly enter the cafeteria—more humans leaves more chances for a slip-up. I immediately spot Carmen at the table near the window. He is propped on the windowsill, the group listening as he tells a story. I sharpen my hearing so I can listen, and wrinkle my nose when I hear them discuss a human girl with vulgar language. I snort, and Carmen’s eyes shoot up, grinning slyly. I glare at him, and he chuckles lightly before continuing the tale. Blocking them out, I reluctantly take my place in the lunch line.

They are serving a disgusting meal of pasta, meat sauce, and mushrooms. I read the board and see that it is named lasagna. I fight against the revolting expression I so yearn to show as they place a slice on my plate, the meat sauce oozing out of the sides. The smell is nauseating and I move through the line as quickly as I can. Reaching for my carton of milk, I brush hands with a human.

Bad mistake.

I freeze. It is common knowledge amongst my kind that if we touch a human, we risk exposure. Their skin is so strange to us and when our cold skin—from lack of blood circulation—touches the humans' oddly warm skin, dangerous events could conspire.

My hands stray to the human’s fingers and I marvel at the warmth. The human, however, yanks its hand away. I cringe and peer up shyly.

It is a male. He is dressed in average attire for a human: a light blue polo and dark jeans. His skin is a dark tan as if he spent his whole winter vacation outside. His mouth crinkles in a lopsided smile. “Sorry,” he mumbles, and I make a deadly mistake.

I meet his eyes.

Again, it is a rule that we are never to make direct eye contact with humans. When we do, our first instinct is to look into the human’s soul, to overpower their minds and make them ours. Humans are so easy to control, and the temptation is there.

I am shocked when his eyes—like blue ice—are blocked. I can’t see past them, and I quickly look down to my shoes, afraid that if I look any longer, I will do something that I will later regret. “It’s fine,” I murmur, stepping past him. He smells of cologne, and it makes me wrinkle my nose in distaste; but I’m thankful for it because it covers his original scent.

When I reach Carmen’s table, he glances at me with a raised eyebrow. “What was that all about?” He inclines his head towards the male I had run into. He is walking over to a crowded table. I watch as a fellow female, her blonde hair reaching her waist, stands on tiptoes to press her lips lovingly onto his. I frown at this custom, struggling to figure out what it means. I have seen it often in the hallways, and have yet to come up with a reason for it. Eventually, I give up and look to Carmen, shrugging. “Nothing.”

Carmen narrows his eyes but let’s the subject drop. I watch as he abruptly groans and leans back. “Why do you even bother with that?” He points to my plate of steaming pasta. Michael scoots further away from me, holding his nose. Dover looks close to gagging.

“Don’t you think people will get suspicious when you never eat lunch?” I counter but push the plate away as my own stomach starts revolving precariously inside of me.

“No,” Carmen grins, and I roll my eyes.

“Well, then you are oblivious to human nature.”

“And are you the master of human emotions, Sophia?” Carmen’s eyes are suddenly harsh, and I cringe, looking away. “That’s what I thought.”

“It was a mistake,” I defend quietly, picking at the chipping table. Carmen doesn’t bother to reply. Michael changes the subject, and I peek up at him, grinning thankfully. Michael winks, and I breathe easier.

* * * *

Following lunch, I enter my British Literature class. Placing myself away from the other humans, I pull out my notebook and doodle absentmindedly. I dread the classes when my fellow family members are absent. This trimester, this class is the only one without them. I can do this…It’s only one class..

Soon, a group of humans enter. Their scents are cloaked under a cloud of perfume and cologne. I sigh, smiling faintly at my luck. Following them is the teacher. Her name is Mrs. Walker. She is a shorter woman with graying hair and horn-rimmed classes. Her scent is very distinct: mothballs and cat hair.

I laugh softly as she takes attendance. I am still doodling when she says my name. “Sophia Martin?” I raise my hand, lifting my eyes from the page in my notebook. When I lower my arm, I see that another is looking at me.

It is the blue-polo male. He is watching me carefully, his eyes sharp and intent. I quickly look away, my hands starting to shake.

I hate when humans take a personal interest in us. It makes our lives so much easier when they ignore us, but there is always that overly curious one. I can still feel his eyes on me, and I move my hair so it falls like an ebony curtain between us. I feel his eyes leave me when Mrs. Walker begins talking, and I continue to doodle in peace.

When the bell rings, I practically sprint from the class. I feel that annoyingly curious male still watching me, and I weave through the throng of students, feeling my anger rise. Carmen is waiting for me, leaning contentedly against the rusted locker. He immediately detects my anger—my eyes a vivid black—and questions me. “What’s wrong?”

I shake my head, looking over his shoulder. I gasp when I see the male across the hall still watching me! What is his problem? Am I that interesting? I should have known the answer to that. My people have been known far and wide for their beauty, but that’s all lies and myths. It isn’t our beauty, though some of us do turn out looking like gods. Glancing sideways at Carmen, looking at his profile, I smile; Carmen is one of the lucky ones, one of the Blessed. Yes, my people do have unnaturally smooth pale skin and attractive figures, but it is our eyes that make the humans connect with us. I know I shouldn’t have made eye contact with the blue-polo male and now I am going to regret it.

Carmen follows my gaze, and I see his whole demeanor change. His shoulders’ square and his eyes darken dangerously. I press a firm hand on his chest. “Don’t,” I warn, knowing what happens when any of us lose control over our emotions.

“He’s looking at you like…” he trails off, falling back against the locker again.

“He’s just a human,” I whisper for his ears only, slightly bewildered at his reaction to the male. “A harmless human.”

“I suppose,” he shakes his head, ruffling my hair before leaving.

Once I have my books in hand, I turn and find the male still staring; but this time, a knowing smile is crossing his lips, and his eyes have a glint of amusement in them. I fumble for words to say to distract him from me when he starts towards me. I go to turn, but he’s right there, blocking my path. “Hi,” he says, his voice deep and husky.

His voice catches me off guard. It is alluring, like those of my people, and I find myself looking into his eyes again. “Hi,” I answer with a coy smile. What is wrong with you? I silently scold myself, quickly looking away from the boy. He’s nothing but an insignificant human! But I can’t ignore the slight flutter in my throat or the weightlessness in my head as he looks at me with those safely-guarded eyes. I frighten at my reaction to him.

“What was wrong with your friend?” he asks me.

I frown, trying to regain control. “Nothing. He’s just a little overprotective.”

“Is he your boyfriend?” the boy wonders, piercing me with his electric eyes.

“No!” I answer, slightly offended. I instantly regret my words as Carmen appears. I should have known that he would have been listening.

“Is he bothering you?” Carmen asks me, pointedly ignoring the human.

“No, Carmen,” I say through my teeth.

The boy looks amused. “Dude, everything’s cool.”

“It better be,” Carmen threatens, and the boy’s expression shifts. He opens his mouth to retort when I interrupt.

“I have to go,” I say loudly. “Carmen, walk me to class?” They both stare at me, and Carmen nods. I glance apologetically at the boy. “Bye,” I say, before sauntering off. The boy just stares, his eyes following my every move until I am out of sight.

“What is your problem?” I badger Carmen once we are alone.

“I don’t know what got over me…” He shrugs, running his hand warily through his hair. “It was just the way he stared at you…”

“He’s a human, Carmen! What trouble could he cause by looking at me?” I demand, shoving him. I just hope I don’t see polo boy again, or I might not have enough control to resist that alluring voice he possesses.

“Okay, I was wrong,” he sighs. “It’s just—“

“Drop it!” I order. “It’s over. Let’s just go to class.” And I sling a friendly arm over his shoulder, leading him to class.

Our last class of the day is Baking—the one I have been dreading all day since it involves cooking. I’m considered a Newborn still, but food has lost its appeal years ago. Philip had forced us to take this class, thinking it will make us appear more human.

Carmen greets the rest of the gang as we grab a table for ourselves. Things are just returning to normal, laughter echoing from all of our mouths when Carmen’s body goes stiff. “I can’t believe this,” he growls under his breath. I freeze when I smell the familiar cologne of the polo boy. I don’t dare look in his direction and glare instead at Carmen. “Why are you making a big deal out of this?”

“Sophia, it’s a feeling I get about the guy,” he struggles to explain, “All I’m going to say is that he’s bad news—“

“All right. Leave it at that,” I cut him off, shaking my head. I know better than to draw attention to myself and now I will have to figure out a way to get rid of the boy. The teacher, Mr. Anderson, starts to pair us off and when he reaches us, I see his eyes narrow. “Well, we will just have to split you six up.” He shakes his head and points for Carmen to join a petite girl with cropped brown hair. Carmen gives me a warning stare before gathering his books. Dover and Nate stay together. I pray with all my might that he will keep Michael with me, but he raises an arthritis-twisted finger and points to the polo boy. “Sophia, you go with Isaac.”

I hear Carmen curse and glare furiously at him. He quiets while Isaac moves over to leave room for me at his table. I breathe through my mouth as I take a seat. “So, we meet again.” He flashes me a dazzling smile, and my head feels light. I bow my chin as I hear Randy go with a muscular male. I glance up and see Carmen watching us, his eyes narrowed. I am still baffled at his hostile behavior towards this boy named Isaac. He has done nothing but be curious though it is partly my fault. I mouth stop this nonsense to him across the room, and he glowers but obeys, turning to his partner and flashing her a heart-melting grin. I feel slightly bad for her, seeing Carmen’s looks overpower every motor skill in her body.

I turn back to Isaac as the teacher hands out recipes for us to try. He gives Isaac ours, and he smiles knowingly. “Ah, lemon squares.”

I sigh. “I hope they are easy to make.”

“Not a good cook?” he asks, lifting an eyebrow.

“I’m hopeless in the kitchen,” I answer with a shy smile.

He chuckles. “Don’t worry. My talent will make up for it.”

I stare at him. “Oh, really?”

“Watch me work my magic,” he says and winks. My knees wobble, and I clutch at the table. What is the matter with me? I had never felt such strange emotions. The only human emotion I have ever experienced is joy and the occasional anger. Now, the feeling of weightlessness in the pit of my stomach makes my toes curl. I try to fight against it, but every time Isaac looks at me with those sparkling eyes—so artfully blocking me out—I get a rush of these emotions, leaving me breathless.

I try to work without looking at him, keeping a safe distance between us. “Can you hand me that bag of flour?” he asks as he whisks the eggs. I try to block out his voice, so much like my people with its seductive nature.

“Sure.” I hand it over while filling out the worksheet. Warmth spreads through my fingertips, and my eyes shoot upwards. His hand is touching mine, and I quickly pull my hand back.

He starts and drops the bag of flour. It explodes between us, showering us in a thick blanket of white. I cough and wipe at my eyes as the class stares. I look to Isaac, his face and clothes coated in flour. I crack a smile, and he laughs. I join in as Mr. Anderson jogs over. “You both better go clean up,” he orders, eyes full with disapproval as we leave for the sink in the back.

I allow Isaac to wash off first as I dust off my clothes, coughing as small puffs clog my nostrils. I lick my lips and the flour sticks to the roof of my mouth. I gag, quickly rushing towards the paper towels and rubbing my tongue with the brown paper.

“Okay, you can go,” Isaac announces, stepping back to dry his hands on a paper towel. I replace him at the sink and scrub my arms until I can see my pale skin below. I wet a paper towel and clean off my face.

When I face Isaac, he is just brushing off his shoes. “Sorry,” I say, feeling slightly guilty about the mess I created, and he shrugs.

“It’s okay.” When he looks at my face, he smiles. “You missed a spot.” His thumb runs along my cheek, and I freeze. Emotions swirl around me at his touch—fear, joy, anguish, hunger. So many human emotions at one time makes my limbs start to tremble. I feel my eyes dilate when the bell rings, and he pulls away. “I’ll see you tomorrow,” I say quickly, hurrying to the table and grabbing my things before he can stop me.

Outside in the fresh air, I can think clearly. I can still feel Isaac’s touch as if he had scorched me. I tentatively touch it, and my fingers come back slightly warmer than they were before. I smile but then quickly frown. Get a hold of yourself! You shouldn’t be feeling this way about a human. He’s going to be nothing but trouble, I tell myself, breathing in the clean air. The sky is a soft blue with thin, white clouds scattering the surface. The sun is a shimmering star shining forth with a brilliance that leaves me dazzled. I close my eyes as the sun’s rays hit my skin, warming it. It’s lovely to be outside when it’s sunny, to almost feel human as my skin tingles with heat.

I quicken my pace when I hear Carmen’s distinguished trot behind me, hoping I can avoid him until we get back to the Manor, but with no such luck. “What the hell was that?” He yanks me around to face him, his icy grip stinging my skin.

“I don’t know what you are talking about,” I sniff, an air of innocence protecting me.

“The hell you don’t!” Carmen accuses. “I saw that little touch action in the back.” His eyes are flashing, their golden color turning into red flames.

“He touched me. So what?” I snort, walking around him, thinking nothing of it.

“Oh, no big deal, huh Miss I-can-hunt-humans-and-nothing-happens-to-me?”

I flinch, turning back to face him. “It was an accident,” I whisper, feeling suddenly cold, the sun’s heat draining from me. Flashes of that horrible night flicker through my mind.

“You killed him, Sophia. You killed him.” Carmen’s glare is deadly, and I lash out.

“You’re just jealous because I didn’t choose you!”

Carmen’s face drains of all color, turning to a sickly white. “You bitch!” he growls. Before thinking, I slap him. The family around us backs swiftly away. Carmen clutches his face, his eyes switching from red to a flat black. I fumble for words. “I-I’m sorry, Carmen! I-I shouldn’t have—“

“You are just like your mother.” And with that, he is off, bounding into the surrounding trees. I watch him go, feeling my knees buckle under me. Dover and Nate stare at me in disbelief, not used to my flashes of anger before they follow Carmen. Randy doesn’t even look at me, fleeing into the surrounding trees. Michael is the last to leave. He runs a soft hand carefully across my check before following his fellow brothers, leaving me to walk home alone.