Diary Entry: Fall of 8th Grade

“Come back here, you little b*tch!” A girl races past me, her brunette hair flying wildly as she dodges through the hallway. Hot on her heels is Jeanie, struggling to keep up in a pair of wedges that look one wrong step away from disaster. Her skirt clings so tightly to her hips I wonder how she manages to move at all, let alone chase someone. She’s furious, her face twisted in rage. Behind her, the other two Barbie clones strut down the hall, wobbling on sky-high heels, too concerned with their appearance to break into an actual run.

These three came back from their summer trip abroad with inflated egos, suddenly convinced they ruled the school. They were always mean, but after their little European getaway, they’ve been treating the rest of us like we exist solely for their entertainment. As the daughter of the Beta, it’s technically my job to ensure pack members treat each other fairly—even if that means stepping in when the ones causing trouble are from my own pack.

My father doesn’t acknowledge me beyond orders, and Leo, my brother, might as well be a stranger. But still, I take my position seriously. It’s the one thing I’ve always been taught: The Beta family represents strength and leadership. My father may care more about appearances than about me, but I’ll uphold the role, whether anyone notices or not.

Jeanie nearly stumbles as I step in front of her, raising my hands in what I hope is a peaceful gesture. “What did she do, Jeanie? Why are you chasing her?”

Jeanie skids to a stop, her legs wobbling as she fights for balance. She glares at me, clearly annoyed. “She got me a D on my paper! That little b*tch was supposed to make me sound smart! She did it on purpose, trying to humiliate me in front of the new teacher. Get out of my way, Selene.”

Her attempt to shove me aside doesn’t go unnoticed, but I stay planted firmly where I stand. “Let me guess,” I say calmly. “You didn’t pay her to do it. You just picked a smart kid and told her she had to do your work?”

Jeanie narrows her eyes. “What does it matter? I’m a warrior. She’s just an omega. She should be grateful I even talked to her.”

I roll my eyes at the tired excuse. “Her rank has nothing to do with your grades. And let’s be real, Jeanie—you’re not a warrior. You don’t train. You don’t even try. If you want good grades, you can do your own damn work.”

Jeanie’s face flushes with embarrassment and rage, but before she can respond, Stacey, the self-appointed queen of the school, steps forward. Her platinum-blonde hair is perfectly styled, and her ice-blue eyes narrow as she sneers at me. “You need to watch your mouth, murderer.”

The insult hits me like a slap, even though it’s nothing new. Stacey has thrown that word at me more times than I can count, each one cutting deeper. “No one wants you here—not your father, not your brother, not anyone. So why don’t you do everyone a favor and disappear?”

Marnie steps up beside Stacey, grinning as they form their usual intimidating triangle. They remind me of a bad knock-off from Mean Girls, but unlike the movie, their cruelty isn’t just an act.

Stacey brushes past me with a sneer, tossing over her shoulder, “No one humiliates us and gets away with it.” With that, she and her friends march toward Leo and his group. I know they heard everything—werewolf hearing doesn’t miss a thing. But just like every other time, Leo doesn’t react. He just keeps talking to Aaron, Ryan, Ethan, and Devin as if I’m invisible.

The message is clear: If I can’t take the abuse, I’m not strong enough to matter.

I swallow the lump forming in my throat, forcing back the tears stinging my eyes. Crying is the one thing I can’t afford to do—not in front of them, not here. I take a shaky breath and gather my things, hoping the girl they were after managed to escape.

This year is going to be a long one. I just need to keep my head down, keep my grades up, and stay out of their way. A few more years, and I can leave this place behind for good.

Diary Entry: Fall of 9th Grade

SLAM!

The impact sends me flying into the lockers, pain exploding through my back and shoulders. My head bounces off the metal with a dull thud, and I let out a groan as I slump to the ground, clutching the back of my skull.

“Happy Monday to you too,” I mutter under my breath, more to myself than to anyone else.

“Get out of my way, you fat cow,” Stacey hisses. I taste copper on my tongue as a small trickle of blood slips from the corner of my mouth—her latest manicure is sharp enough to draw blood.

The laughter that follows tells me she wasn’t alone this time. One of the boys must have thrown me into the lockers, judging by the force of the blow. I don’t even bother looking up to see who it was. Stacey might skip every combat training session, but she doesn’t need to fight when she has half the school willing to do her dirty work just for a smile.

“What did I do this time, your highness?” I ask dryly, trying to buy time. I glance down the hall, hoping the younger kid Stacey had been harassing got away while her attention is on me.

Stacey leans in, her voice dripping with mock sweetness. “You don’t stop me from disciplining a pup, Selene. That little brat ruined my new designer shoes in front of everyone.”

Everyone, of course, meaning Leo, Aaron, Ryan, Ethan, and Devin. They rule the school just like their parents rule the pack. They play the part of untouchable leaders, loving the attention they get from girls like Stacey, who desperately cling to the ranked circle.

As always, Leo stands nearby, laughing with the others as if I don’t exist. Not a flinch, not a glance in my direction. The five of them walk off, chuckling among themselves, oblivious to the tension simmering behind Stacey’s crystal-blue eyes.

I rub the back of my head, feeling the sting of another bruise forming. No one’s going to stop her, and no one will care that she pushed me into the lockers. Not the teachers, not my father, and definitely not Leo.

Stacey tosses her hair and smirks. “Better stay out of my way next time, murderer.”

I watch them walk away, the laughter of the ranked boys still ringing in my ears. They think they’re untouchable, leaders in training. But all I see are boys who enjoy the power they think they have.

I close my eyes for a moment, steadying my breathing. Just a few more years, I remind myself. A few more years, and I’ll be gone from here.