[Title Pending]

BrookeDi

Well-Known Member
Benefactor
"And the war between Hunters and witches ended in..." Mandy Davis trailed off, waiting for someone to supply the answer. Many of them expertly avoided her gaze, and she huffed. "Scott?" She prompted the teenager.

He glanced up from his paper at Mandy and then dropped his gaze down at his doodles. The answer wouldn't be found there, but it didn't stop him from searching. He heard a cough beside him, a muffled number hidden in the sound. "Seventeen-oh-eight," he answered, smiling.

"Very good," there was a pause, "Miss Crow." Miranda blushed and ducked her head, and Scott just shrugged. Remembering facts wasn't really his focus. "If you don't know the answer, own up to that, Mr. Samuels. Miss Crow; it is kind of you to assist your comrade, but save that for field work and let others sink or swim on their own here." Both pupils nodded, and Mandy glanced at her watch. "Alright, I've tortured you lot long enough. Finish getting ready for school. We leave in thirty."

It is 7:45 am in a quiet town in Rochester, New York. Within the city, there is a quiet suburb, Brighton. With a population of 36,753, Brighton is known for good schools, is a good area for families, and a pretty decent crime rating (B+ on crime with an overall A+ Niche grade). In one particular shopping center, there is an unassuming gym. It advertises decent rates, open 24-hours, and top-rated qualified personal trainers. The gym has the corner spot in the shopping center, so at first glance, it doesn't appear to be incredibly spacious. However, once inside, one can see that the building expands further back. The equipment is all state-of-the-art, top-of-the-line, and very well maintained. There's the open gym, a boxing center, and a multi-functional room that hosts the variety of exercise classes taught there. That particular room is reserved from 6:45-7:45 am and 6-9 pm Monday through Saturday. As the clock hits 7:45, the door opens a group of high schoolers spills from the room, splitting up between the boy's and girl's locker room followed by a slightly amused looking trainer.

At precisely 8:15 am, Mandy has always been punctual, the children are ushered from the gym into a large van (it's more of a small, private bus than it is a van). They're dropped off at school at approximately 8:45 am, giving them 15 minutes before the first bell rings. Calvin Knight sits at the back of the bus. He watches the scenery pass as the bus drives. Ethan dropped into the seat next to him, immediately going into a tirade of how useless history, as a normal and Hunter subject, was entirely useless. "If we didn't learn about our History," Calvin pointed out, "Then we wouldn't know anything about witches or other magical creatures."

"So?"

"So," Calvin sighed, "How would you fight something if you don't know anything about it?"

"Pure strength, baby," Ethan flexed his, admittedly, considerable muscles.

Sitting two rows in front of them, Joy Samuels snorts at the conversation between the two boys. "Puh-lease," she mutters to no one in particular. She, unlike Ethan, did not appear to have the strength that she possessed. Standing at 4 foot and 9 inches, Joy has a thin frame, her muscles more toned than they are bulky. Her hair is pulled up into two pigtail buns with feathers poking out of both sides. She's dressed in a pair of dark-wash jeans with a bright blue blouse.

Miranda Crow, scribe-in-training and the very definition of 'mousy,' sits criss-cross on the seat across from Joy with a notebook balanced on her knee, the end of her pen in her mouth as she chewed nervously on the cap. She giggled, though, at Joy's under the breath comment before resuming the pen chewing. She wore a pair of jeans and an oversized, black sweater; her knit beanie was pulled low just above the eyes, while her hair hung loose.

Toward the front of the van Joy's brother, Scott, leaned against a window taking a nap under his letterman jacket, never minding the constant banging of his head on the window as the van bumped and shook.

Much of the bus was the same; some of the teenagers were being teenagers; goofing off, roughhousing, or just chatting about school or killing magical beasts, all standard teenage stuff. Others, like Scott, deemed it too early to be socializing and stared off into space or dozed during the short ride.

As the van pulled into the school parking lot, the students scrambled to exit the vehicle. As individuals, they don't stand out much. As a group, however, they're all a little too graceful, a little too athletic. The image of there being something more about this group of kids is only there for a second, and then it's gone, and there's something to divert the attention of ordinary folk who are always more than happy to explain away oddities that don't fit into their understanding of the world.

While the Hunter children are being dropped off at school, Karen Samuels was at the beginning of what was starting to look like a long day of work. The day had started peacefully enough when she'd first arrived, however not five minutes in and they'd received a call of a body found. The detective and her partner headed out to Persimmon Park to the crime scene. The whole thing had many officers and the M.E. completely baffled; what could exsanguinate a person without cutting the person open? "Think we're dealing with a vampire?" Karen's partner joked.

She forced a laugh and didn't bother to tell the poor man that he was probably very right. There would have to be an emergency meeting that evening.
 
During class, Grayson Wood found his joy in the outside world. Though he wasn't seated by a window, he found that joy in his own head. He imagined beautiful fields filled with tropical animals and foreign creatures, and not a single history textbook in sight. He wasn't any good in classes like this, but put a weapon in his hands? Oh, put a weapon in his hands and he would shock you...with just how bad he was at fighting, for a hunter. Still very good, by mundane standards, but not much at all by hunter standards.

It wasn't that he was necessarily bad, it was constantly said. It was just that he was a little clumsy, a little gangly, a little awkward. There were hundreds of words that Grayson and his parents used to describe him, but often it boiled down to the sheer fact that he wasn't quite as competent as his peers. Given time to bloom, though, and he'd soon be a brilliant man to have to the hunter cause. He would cast off the shackles of puberty and become a valiant warrior! At least, that's what his granddad said.

He dozed through the class, always eternally grateful when the teacher called it a day. He tried to fall into step with people as they left the class, but every time he failed to engage in the conversation, usually leading to awkward silences and hurried footsteps. He eventually gave up, and stuck to the back of the crowd, but didn't let this affect him; it was early in the morning, so people were probably just cranky, and wanted to stick to themselves. This was how he kept his spirits up as he got ready for the school day.

In a not at all similar situation, Stacy Simmons chatted with her friends as they walked from the locker room to the bus. Her coarse, dark hair was pulled back into a ponytail, and she constantly tucked the two short strands of hair that framed her face behind her ears. She fit easily into the crowd, though her quiet demeanour made her somewhat easy to overlook. You'd be stupid to underestimate her, though, considering that just like any hunter, she could take you down in two seconds flat. She took a window seat, fine to simply listen to the conversation her friends were having on the most effective way to take down a pegasus, and occasionally input something that no one had considered. Meanwhile, Grayson sat alone at the front of the coach, his impatient fingers tap, tap, tapping on his thighs.

Upon arriving at the school, Grayson and Stacy were a few of the last people off. As Stacy paused to tie her shoe, Grayson tripped over her, his taller height of six feet tall making him a little more liable to trip over shorter things. She stood up in a flash, bold, brown eyes snapping onto his pale green ones, trying to figure out if he'd kicked her on purpose or not and then how to respond to such an action. However, as soon as she saw who it was, her face instantly softened. You couldn't be too harsh on Grayson for silly mistakes like that, not when he almost revealed the truth of hunters about a hundred times a day. You had to save your proper scolding sessions for when it really mattered. "Be careful, Grayson," she warned lightly, unaware that her voice was an almost exact match of her mothers.

Grayson gave an apologetic smile, said, "right, sorry!" and rushed off, into a crowd of the mundane who were a little more accepting of the boy who was just a little odd, was all. Stacy watched him go with a sigh, blowing one of the stray locks of hair from her eyes. What are we going to do with him, she wondered as she rejoined the friends who had already walked ahead of her.
 
"...blah blah blah blaaaaaahhhh," at least that's what the droning of Mrs. Davis's voice sounded like in Reece's ears. She was a strong student who rarely had to try at all in any of her classes either at normal school or Hunter school. Today her mind was filled less with witches and magic and more to do with the track meet which would be held after school. She had been training daily for it, and though she felt confident in her abilities, she also worried about over-training or over doing it with her Hunter athleticism.

Dressed in a pair of black jeans with a Metallica t-shirt, a red flannel tied around her waist, a pair of black Converse, and a hat worn backwards on her head, Reece was the epitome of 90's grunge. Though she was a jock at heart, Reece loved the grunge fashion.

Finally it was time to go, and Reece uncurled from her desk and stood (she liked to sit with one knee up and the other curled around it). She closed her notebook and carefully placed it and her pencil in the old school Jansport bookbag which was tossed carelessly over one shoulder. She picked up her gym bag with the school's name and mascot on it, and followed the rest of the class out the door.

Reece didn't speak to anyone as she walked, just followed and listened. She wasn't much of a talker, anyway. She stepped up onto the bus and glanced down the long aisle, gauging where she should sit. Ethan was running his mouth as usual, and she just didn't have the time or patience for him. Walking down the aisle, she made eye contact with Calvin and offered a small smile and a one-finger waggle before sliding into the seat with Joy. "What can we expect from the slumber party coming up this weekend?"
 
Joy Samuels:
The tiny hunter bounced in her seat, always so full of energy. "I'm thinking a scary movie marathon, and then I'm going to convince my mom to let us go hunting. It's going to be a Hunter only event this weekend." Joy was known for hosting frequent slumber parties; she was a social butterfly, to be sure, but she also embraced the idea of community. It was nice to be able to be herself around other hunters, so she enjoyed spending time with them when possible. Now and then, though, she hosted a mixed slumber party (hunters and non-hunters alike). They were still fun, but it was exhausting having to be more careful.

She stood before the bus even came to a complete stop, leaning on the plush cushion of the chair in front of her. "Maybe prank call some of the boys because some of them," her eyes landed on Ethan for a brief second, "could do with some annoyance. Scott will be staying with..." Her head tilted to the side as she tried to recall, but the detail was unimportant, so she waved a hand dismissively. "The point is, he's out of the house for the weekend as is Logan so it'll be just us girls." Logan is her elementary aged brother who she likes to pretend is the bane of her existence. As Joy followed Reece off the bus, she continued chatting a mile a minute. "And homecoming is approaching. No one has asked me, of course, but I'm keeping my outlook hopeful. You are going to homecoming, aren't you?" Her expression and tone were pleading with Reece; the other teen was not what you would call 'girly,' and she could already hear the skater's refusal, but Joy was desperate for her friends to experience all that life--and high school--has to offer. "We can all go together. You, too." She called to Miranda and Stacy as she passed them as if they had always been involved in the conversation. In Joy's mind, they had. "We'll get ready at my house, hang out. It'll be fun!" She paused, turning so she could survey the girls who hadn't already passed her by. "Ooh, we can all go shopping together!" As if they had already agreed that they would be going to homecoming.

Calvin Knight:
The young hunter hung back from his group of friends as they exited the vehicle. He caught up with Reece just in time to hear Joy going on about shopping, and he made a face. Maybe he'd attempt a conversation another time. "All these powerful abilities and you want to talk about shopping?" He asked in a low voice.

Joy scoffed at him. "It is important to be well rounded. That means looking great while being able to kick ass. Besides, we're talking about homecoming. Not just shopping." She rolled her eyes as if it should have been obvious.

"Right," he said, adjusting the strap of his backpack. Sometimes it was just easier to go along with Joy. "You going?" He asked. Calvin glanced at Reece as he asked, but he tried to make it seem like a general question to those around them.

"That's what I was just telling them," Joy continued. "They have to go."

Miranda Crow:
The scribe-in-training worked very hard to go unnoticed, but Joy made it quite impossible. She noticed everyone. So, when the subject of homecoming came up, Miranda was caught unawares (but unsurprised) when she was dragged into the conversation. "Uh, sure." She agreed though homecoming wasn't exactly on her list of priorities. She was okay attending without a date; it would be better than attending with a partner that she didn't want to be with. It's just that social events like that gave her anxiety. Perhaps going as a group wouldn't be so bad.

"I have to go to class," she murmured to no one in particular, as Joy continued.

"We have like ten minutes," Joy protested, but Miranda shrugged and scurried off. She liked to arrive early. Sue her. Her shoulders remained tensed until she was in her seat. Once there, she pulled a heavy, worn book out of her backpack and flipped to the marked page. No one paid her much attention at school, at least none of the non-hunters, so she didn't worry about the contents of her book and having it out in front of everyone. If anyone noticed anything out of the ordinary, she could just claim it was a obscure piece of fiction. It was the diary of one of the first American hunters, and so far an interesting read. At least, it was to her. Most others wouldn't find the subject as fascinating, she supposed.

Scott Samuels:
Despite sleeping away the bus ride, Scott was one of the first off the bus, and therefore, much to his relief, he was able to avoid his sister's nuttiness about the dance. That girl wanted to be involved in everything. She was exhausting sometimes. He was just behind Grayson as the other hunter ran off to join his non-hunter friends. He often feels sorry for the other boy, more accepted by those who can never know the truth about him than he is by his kind. That was an unfair statement because he was accepted, but sometimes just tolerated. He was sure to give the other boy a quick nod in greeting before he was scooped up by his football 'friends.'

He tolerated most of them, although there were a couple that he would consider more on a friend level. It's just; they were so preoccupied with trivial matters. The only reason Scott got by with hanging out with them is that he's on the team. It was nice, though, to have a niche group of friends to hang out with. It made it easier to cover how incredibly awkward he was in a social setting. The complete opposite of his sister who can fill up a room with her energy while Scott often struggled with speaking in a way that made sense and sounded like a normal person rather than sounding like he was raised by rock trolls (more than once he's been forced to sit through Frozen, and more than once Joy has compared him to Kristoff and now the analogy will never escape his brain).
 
Grayson Wood
Grayson just barely caught the nod. He was about to turn around—if he had the chance to talk with a hunter, he'd rather that, since then he didn't have to worry about accidentally revealing himself all the time—but just seconds after the gesture, Scott was whisked away. Grayson almost went to follow after him, his logic being that maybe Scott wanted to talk, but he was just caught up in something, but someone grabbed his arm.

Emmett Brewer was one of the kids that took on a fashion style, but not the appropriate lifestyle. He'd bounced around hundreds of different aesthetics over the course of his teen years, and while scene had definitely been the funniest, his current choice was skater. It was very common knowledge that the one time Emmett had tried to skate, he'd fallen off and broken his nose, and that was why it was crooked sharply to the left. He claimed that the fashion choice was 'a big eff-you!' to the universe for the whole incident, but Grayson knew his best friend well enough to know that that wasn't totally true.

While many hunters would snatch their arm away or start choosing some self-defence moves to go through with, Grayson didn't have the reflexes for that. He grinned down at the short boy (there was a foot of distance between them, much to Emmett's dismay) and waited for Emmett to move his hand away himself. "Hi!" Grayson chirped.
"Why didn't you reply to my texts!" Emmett burst out, barely able to hold the question in to say hello.
It took Grayson a moment to process the question. "I don't have my phone!" he eventually replied. "My mom took it off me because—" he stopped himself, "—because of that Chemistry test." It was a reasonable enough excuse, considering that he'd only just scraped by with a pass. In his brain, he drew a tally mark on a chalkboard. Number of times Grayson has almost ruined his life today: one. The real reason his phone had been taken off him was because he'd mentioned his before school lessons to Emmett, and not covered up their content well at all. He'd attempted to hide it as a creative writing and literature class, but when Emmett mentioned it to Grayson's parents it was clear that his excuse wasn't exactly expertly crafted. The result was something Grayson was used to; no phone, no TV, and somehow, an even harsher curfew.

Emmett rolled his eyes. "Well, maybe if you studied a bit, you'd know that..." As Emmett started ranting about the second season of their favourite show, Grayson was quick to jump in. The two wandered off in the direction of their first class, trading random trivia and jabs and spoilers about the episode that Grayson had missed over the weekend.

Stacy Simmons
Stacy had already been tuned into the conversation, despite not having been a real part of it. As soon as she was invited in, however, she broke away from the pair of hunter girls she was usually closest to and subtly gravitated towards the other group. "You can do my hair, then," she quipped, "and I'll do eyes." Stacy's hair was infamously hard to work with; thick, coarse, easily tangled, and heat-damaged from years of straightening, it broke just about as easily as dry spaghetti. It was a miracle that Stacy hadn't gone bald, really. But, what she lacked in hair, she made up for easily with makeup technique. She was a master of all things eye makeup, easily perfecting those cat-eye flicks and all colours of eyeshadow. Plus, her collection of fake eyelashes was impressive.

Her face lit up at the mention of shopping. The topic of a dress had been on her mind. Stacy rarely knew how to dress in formal situations, and as much as she rocked t-shirts and cuffed mom jeans in day-to-day life, she was always envious of a boy's ability to just stick on a tux and get away with anything. She wasn't sure how her parents would react to her dressing a bit more masculine no matter how much she wanted it, considering that her older sister—now off in another chapter with five kids, and more on the way—had been homecoming and then prom queen herself, dressed in a proper gown both times.

As much as she could tell that Calvin's question was somewhat aimed—though she wasn't sure at who—she took it upon herself to answer, saying, "I'm going, but it's just not some people's scene." Not meaning to, she glanced at Miranda as she spoke. She couldn't imagine that the dance played much on Miranda's mind, at least, not as much as it had been playing on Stacy's.
 
Reece Thompson

Reece listened with half an ear to Joy discussing the sleepover plans, and she nodded here and there. "Yeah, I think instead of a panty raid, we should do a boxer raid on the boys' bedrooms." She found that hilarious, and her lips quirked up in a half grin. "And if they are really sound asleep, we can put make up on them. Ethan would look great in blue eye shadow and red lip gloss, don't you think?" Just the thought of getting back at that annoying boy made her day. Ethan was her least favorite Hunter.

As the bus came to a halt, she stood, shouldered her bag, and headed out with Joy chattering about the up-coming Homecoming dance. Dances were definitely not Reece's most favorite school activity. In fact, she might even like Geometry better than dancing, but she was not going to disappoint her friends and family. Her mother had also been talking about the dance. She had always wanted Reece to be a bit more girly than she was.

As Calvin approached, she gave him a nod and made room for him to join the group. "I guess if I have to," she answered grudgingly to Calvin. "Which means 'yes' because apparently I have to or Joy and my mom will have conniption fits. But shopping...? You mean I can't just wear something I have in my closet?" Shopping was the equivalent of her Hell.

Glancing to Stacy and the girl's hair dubiously. "Trust me, Stace, you don't want me messing with your hair. I can barely do my own. Looks like Joy will have to do all of ours."
 
Sleepovers and homecoming, how stupid. Selene Dupont trudged along behind the group of girls that were yipping on about how fun homecoming was going to be and about how all of them were going to be going together and oh how it would be so fun! She resisted the urge to roll her eyes, and instead focused on feigning a toothy grin whenever someone glanced in her direction. Selene wasn't exactly very talkative with the other hunters, sort of just lurking around off in her own world, but she had decided that she would make more of an effort, even if she didn't necessarily like any of them.

There was only so much talk about mundane things that she could handle, however, and it wasn't long until she broke off from the group. "See you guys later," she grinned as she left, making her way to the first class of the day. A girl she recognized was already seated at a desk, reading some kind of book. What was her name again? Morrigan? Meredith? No. Selene tried to put a name to her face as she made her way to the desk next to hers. Oh right, Miranda. The future scribe.

Selene took her seat silently, only looking over at Miranda to see if she could catch a glimpse at what it was that she was reading.
 
Joy Samuels:
She grinned as Stacy agreed she would be heading to the dance. "Great! We can all get ready at my house," spoken as if the matter was settled (and in her mind, it was). She followed the other girl's gaze to Miranda and sighed. That girl always had her nose stuck in a book. "Probably not," she agreed, "but we wouldn't want anyone looking back onto their high school years and regret missing out on any experiences!" She was immediately upbeat once more.

She was grinning by the time Reece (albeit, reluctantly) agreed she'd be attending the dance. Hands clasped together in excitement, she beamed. "You'll have fun," she was quick to promise. At the mention of clothes the clothes in Reece's closet, she kept a tense smile on her face but was quick to say, "No!" She cleared her throat. "I'm sure we can find something that will fit your style but is still appropriate for homecoming." What kind of friend would she be if she let the other girl attend in her attire? "If you refuse to go shopping, I'll find you something." Because she was a good friend, indeed.

Selene brushed by them, and Joy sighed after the girl. She was so pretty, but never seemed interested in talking with her and Joy was used to being friends with most everyone--or they at least pretended to like her. She was determined to get the other girl to come to the sleepover and vowed that she'd get her commitment to attend this afternoon. She was distracted, though, at the mention of doing everyone's hair. Squealing, she pulled Reece into a brief hug. "Yes! I'll do everyone's hair. Stacy will do the eye makeup; it will be great! Now, do I want to bother with finding a date?"

Calvin Knight:
Hearing that Reece was going, Calvin considered asking her to go with him. They had moved on from the (dreadfully dull) topic of dresses, hair, and makeup to the subject of dates and now would be the perfect time to bring it up. Except, as he considers the idea, all he keeps replaying in his mind is the casual punch to his arm, like he was just a guy friend, followed by a not at all interested 'See ya.' His sisters were quick to point out that the friend zone didn't exist; girls were interested, or they weren't; it was clear that Reece wasn't.

He didn't want to be that awkward guy that couldn't a hint. He could be the guy friend.

Having replayed that awkward scenario in his mind, he quickly clamped his mouth shut, and as they stepped over the threshold into the school, he gave a parting wave to the group of girls. "See you ladies, later," and he quickly turned in the direction of his class.

Miranda Crow:
The future scribe was incredibly focused on her reading that she hadn't even realized someone else had entered the room, let alone that Selene was leaning over, reading over her shoulder. Had she noticed, she might have covered up the book.

There wasn't anything wrong with what she was reading, per se. However, it was a somewhat controversial entry that she was reading.

'I'm not sure that what we are doing is right. Before the war started, we were never really at odds with the witches and wizards. We seemed to work with them quite frequently. It baffles me that things could have changed so quickly. No one else seems to question it.

I wonder if we are being led astray. I worry what expressing these thoughts out loud would lead to. For now, I will write on them and...

The bell rang, and Miranda jumped, slamming the book closed. She glanced around, cheeks flushed even though she wasn't, technically, doing anything wrong.

It was the beginning of the war; it made sense that some people were hesitant about the change. She caught Selene's eye and grinned, sheepishly. Brushing a lock of hair behind her ear, she tried to laugh it off, "Silly that something like the school bell can scare me."
 
Greyson Wood
As much as Greyson and Emmett were in the same department, they were just one classroom apart, much to their dismay, and their teachers' great relief. They came to their classroom doors just as the bell rang, mid-conversation, and while some might have had the guts to finish off the conversation, Greyson wasn't one to risk a detention. Not with his parents. So the two split, the conversation on an uneasy pause until the class ended.

While maybe not bright, Greyson could be trusted not to cause trouble. That was why his assigned seat—for this class, and for most of them—was right at the back. At first, he'd been glad for the seat, but now it seemed like it held him back. There weren't many chances to make friends when you sat up the back with people that didn't want to talk over the teacher. The only way to fix this would be to purposely misbehave to get move forwards, but like hell was he going to risk that. Not with his parents.

Pushing the thought aside, he took his seat and took out his things. US History. He could survive one long, boring, painful, torturous period of US History, if he really, really, really put his mind to it. It was cruel, he thought, to have to go from hunter history right into human history, but there wasn't much to be done about that. He just had to grit his teeth and bear it.

Stacy Simmons
It was good to have a friend like Joy. Her enthusiasm was contagious, and Stacy pulled herself back so that she didn't make a fool of herself. Joy could rock the peppiness, but it wouldn't suit Stacy. "Maybe don't get a date," she offered, "a boy would just ruin the night." Boys could ruin homecoming night in lots of different ways, especially if they weren't hunters. And even if they were hunters, you could never get attached, because come their eighteenth birthday, they might get whisked away and then ripped apart by a wendigo, or a pack of adlets, or even a particularly determined bonnacon-

...no, the Test wasn't on Stacy's mind much at all.

No, not at all, actually.

She gave Calvin a silent nod as he split from them, then turned back to the other girls. She opened her mouth to speak—make a point, again, on the practicality of boys at homecoming—but was interrupted by the bell just as she said: "it gets awkward-". Stopping speaking on instinct, she'd lost her train of thought by the time the bell had stopped ringing. Shaking her head and shrugging, she said, "I'll see you guys at break. Start thinking about how you want your eyes to look, cool?" A half-smile, another silent nod, and she spun on her heel, heading off towards AP Biology.
 
Reece Thompson

Reece wasn't one to pout, but she very nearly allowed her lips to turn down in a petulant way when Joy said her own clothes would not be good enough for the Homecoming dance. This was homecoming, not Prom. Puh-lease. Oh, well. She had only really offered the suggestion as a hope, not that she had expected her friend to say anything different than she had. She let the expression fall away for her usual serious one, though this time there was a hint of a smile, "I'll shop with you because then I at least know I'll find something that suits my style and yours."

As the topic moved on to boys and dates, Reece was especially aware of Calvin's warmth beside her. She told herself not to glance at him though she desperately wanted to, but she was afraid he'd see the longing for him to ask her to the dance if she did. She managed not to until he excused himself. She turned and watched him go, her brows knitting together in consternation. He'd been friendly since he'd walked her to class that last time, but she could have sworn there had maybe been a hint of a bit more...and then she'd gone and punched him in the arm as if they'd been guy friends or something. She was still mentally kicking herself for that.

Turning her attention back to her friends just in time for Stacy to head to class, she waved goodbye to her and then asked Joy, "Would it be weird if I asked a boy to the dance, or am I supposed to wait for one to ask me?" She was totally inept at this kind of thing.
 
Selene Dupont

What a strange thing to be reading. Selene pursed her lips as she tried to take in the pages that the scribe was reading, but only got the chance to read a few words before the bell rang and Miranda slammed her book shut. The silver haired hunter was aware that she looked a bit suspicious reading over someone else's shoulder, but didn't bother to look away when Miranda's gaze met her own.

"Not silly at all," Selene responded, though her cocked eyebrow gave away that she thought the opposite, "loud noises can be quite frightening." She grinned at the other girl, though it seemed more threatening than kind. Her parents had always told her to just not smile, at least in pictures, since she always ended up looking like she was about to stab someone.

"That's a pretty interesting book you're reading though. Looks super old." She looked towards the cover of the book, hoping to get a title of some sort, but her attention was snapped to the front of the room when the teacher came in. Maybe she would talk to Miranda about it later.
 
Joy Samuels
"I'm thinking of going solo," Joy said, in agreement with Stacy's stunted statement. Dating complicated things, and it's not like it was prom. She could go to homecoming stag, or with a group of girls and be perfectly fine. "At any rate, I'm not going to worry about having a date or not." She shrugged, waving as Stacy headed off. Would a smokey eye be too much?

At Reece's question, Joy paused-- even though the first bell had rung, and they should be going to class. "Reece, you listen to me. It is the twenty-first century, and even if it wasn't, you are a strong, independent, beautiful Hunter. If you want to ask a guy on a date, hell yes do it. Go for it!" She leaned in, "but I'm dying to know if there is someone particular you're looking to ask?" She grinned, but the crowd had thinned considerably. Joy pouted. "Tell me in class!" She decided, grabbing the other girl's wrist so they could make a break for it.

The two girls slid into their seats just as the late bell rang. While their teacher started class, Joy ripped out a piece of paper from her notebook. 'So, spill!' she wrote in her neat script, passing the message to Reece without glancing away from the professor. If she doesn't get an answer, she will continue to annoy the other girl about it until their shared class ends. If she does want an answer, she's going to want ALL the details about any interactions Reece has had with this person.

Scott Samuels
The eldest Samuels child, like Grayson, sat in the back for his morning class. He found Economics incredibly dull, but he paid attention, most days. Today he spent more time staring at a blank piece of paper instead of paying attention to the lecture. When the class ended, it was only the sound of the bell that caught his attention. Cursing inwardly, he caught up with a classmate outside of class and was able to grab a copy of the other boy's notes to jot down later. Turning on his heel, Scott turned and smacked right into Grayson. He steadied himself, quickly, and reached out to steady the person he'd nearly bowled over. He let go of Grayson's arm as soon as he recognized the other Hunter.

"Hey," he said, surprised. "You good?"

Miranda Crow
The book was leather bound and looked very worn. Selene would be able to make out the words "Diary of" before the teacher caught her attention. Miranda quickly shoves the book into her bag; however, when the teacher begins the lesson. She really shouldn't be bringing Hunter books to school, but sometimes she can't help herself, getting caught up in the words of her ancestors.

Unlike Scott, Miranda pays close attention to all of her closes, even the ones she dislikes. She takes meticulous notes, hardly glancing up from her notebook unless Mrs. Adams is writing something on the board. When the class ends, she's still scribbling away trying to get the last of Mrs. Adams' words down before she forgets them. Half the class has already made it out of the room and are on their way to the next class when she finally caps her pen and packs her bag to continue to the next lesson.
 
Greyson Wood
There was no sweeter sound than the bell. Despite not being tired when he walked into the class, Greyson left US History practically sleep-walking. Maybe that was why he crashed directly into someone, because it definitely wasn't because he was clumsy, because he wasn't clumsy.

The force of the collision was so intense that it would have knocked Greyson off his feet, if he wasn't so good at keeping his balance (no, it wasn't because the other boy grabbed him, why would you even think that?). The initial embarrassment of the spectacular impact didn't let up at all when Greyson realised that he'd crashed into another hunter, Scott. That never made anything easier on your pride.

Brushing off the anxious kink in his shoulders, he said, "yeah, of course I'm good," with too much confidence for the boy who pretty much fell and hurt himself at least twice a day. "Are you good?" he asked, tone almost accusatory.

Stacy Simmons
Stacy could never find it in herself to be bored in Biology, no matter how mundane the subject matters were. And that was a double entendre, too; human bodies and hunter bodies were very different, and, obviously, in her mundane high school they only covered mundane anatomy. She couldn't expect more—if the school suddenly became hyperaware of hunter biology, then someone would definitely have to check in on what Greyson's been doing—but she couldn't help but feel that her time was partially wasted in classes where some of the information might end up being useless to her.

She didn't like people that said that knowledge learned in school was 'useless', but in this scenario, she couldn't be sure how much of this she should try and memorise, like, for-life memorise. She didn't want to know anything that could possibly distract or confuse her in a life-or-death scenario.

Trying to focus on the details of respiration for now, she brought her attention back to the lesson just as the bell rang. Her teacher pretty much always went over, and Stacy didn't pack up until she was certain that he was finished making his point. It was a manners thing, and besides, it wasn't like her next class was awfully far away.

Leaving the class, she walked to her next—French, where she'd spend the whole period trying to remember how to conjugate être and avoir. On her way there, she spotted Reece walking towards her.

Slowing her pace enough to make a conversation reasonable, she thought carefully about what she was going to say. She wanted to ask about makeup, but she wasn't actually sure if Reece really wanted her makeup done for homecoming. Joy was practically forcing her to wear a dress, so Stacy couldn't imagine that something as feminine as makeup would be up her alley. Starting with a soft smile, she said, "do you actually want me to do you makeup? You know you don't have to wear it."
 
Reece Thompson

It was on a rare occasion that Reece blushed. She was usually inordinately sure of herself and rarely found a moment when she didn't know her own mind or how to behave, but in this instance and in this topic, Reece was lost. Being a tomboy, you might have thought that Reece would know how to handle everything having to do with boys, but no. She only knew how to treat them as friends, nothing more.

Her face felt hot at Joy's excitement for her to ask a boy to the homecoming dance, and she hunched her shoulders a bit in a shrug as she followed the other girl into the classroom and took her seat. She took her time getting out her notebook and favorite pencil knowing that it was probably driving Joy crazy not to know. Finally, she ripped a piece of blank paper from the notebook and scribbled on it before silently passing it to Joy.

The note simply said:

Calvin.
 
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