Plug In Baby: Chapter Seven

CHAPTER SEVEN – ROGAR
My mind was elsewhere as Tasha and I walked into home room, but at the same time I was in the present moment enough to greet Mr. Malina and notice all the guys in the class staring at me.

"You know, I'm really not that good-looking," I quipped, "so you lot can all stop staring now."

"Aw, man," someone muttered to his neighbor. "Trust the new guy to catch her eye. Frosty Wyatt, notoriously hard to catch, and he's got her wrapped around his finger in a day."

"Yeah," the first guy's neighbor agreed. "Right when I was gonna try to ask her out again. No point now."

I was suddenly and violently jolted back into reality by a strong and unexplainable urge to rip the second guy's head off. I managed to keep myself under control, resorting to shooting a murderous glance in his direction. So this was what jealousy felt like.

"Do I want to know what he said?" Tasha asked me.

"It's not important. I'm just being a jealous idiot," I said with a laugh. "There are a few guys in this room who are a little too disappointed that you and I are together."

"Well they're just going to have to learn to deal with it, aren't they? It's not going to change, however much they wish it would."

That was gratifying, to say the least. "On a completely different note, we need to talk to Mr. Malina."

"That's true," Tasha said. I sensed her recognition, a kind of recognition that meant I'd reminded her of something she'd forgotten about.

Mr. Malina had heard me, and I could feel him approaching behind me. "What was it you wanted to talk to me about?"

"Tasha and I don't handle blood very well. Could we be excused from Biology today? I wouldn't want to disrupt the class and I know we're doing blood typing. I already know my blood type." Yeah, whatever I'd hunted last. Currently it was mountain lion. I preferred polar bear, but I had to make do with what I could get near Forks.

"Me too," Tasha said. "I'm O negative."

I knew that too. I could tell a person's blood type from their scent. Sometimes I got it wrong, due to the individual variations, but I was usually right.

"There's no other reason for it?"

I swore under my breath. Mr. Malina was too damn sharp.

"Of course not," Tasha told him, not phased at all by the teacher's sixth sense for incomplete truths. "You know what happened a couple of years ago when I cut my finger on that broken slide. Rogar might have another reason, but I don't."

I sensed the lie, but Mr. Malina accepted her explanation and rounded on me. "And you, Rogar?"

Great. Thanks, Tasha. "Everything I've told you is true. I guess part of the reason I want to be excused is so Tasha won't be bored or lonely, but I honestly don't handle blood very well."

"That's still not the whole truth," Mr. Malina said, "but I'll accept it, because I doubt I'll get the whole truth. All right, I'll excuse you both."

"Thanks, Mr. Malina," Tasha and I both said in the same moment.

We made our way to our seats. I was infinitely aware of every eye in the room following us wherever we went. I didn't like being stared at, with one exception – I knew I'd be fine with Tasha watching me for however long she wanted to.

"They're all staring again," Tasha observed.

"Yeah," I grumbled. "Wish they'd stop."

"Me too."

I shot another murderous glance at someone, but not the same person as before – this time, it was a guy speculating a little too longingly whether or not he'd be able to steal my girlfriend. Apparently Tasha was 'hot property', so to speak. I recognized him from the previous day, when I'd rescued an unsuspecting Junior girl from his dishonorable intentions. This guy had a reputation for being a bit of a sleaze, and what I'd seen of him backed that up. Tasha seemed to hate him almost as much as I hated werewolves.

Someone said something about stealing my car. I glanced around, looking for the idiot who thought I'd let such a comment slide. I was protective of my Lamborghini, and for good reason – I'd only had it for a couple of months, and they're expensive cars, even by my standards. Not only that, but an untrained human driver would kill themselves within five minutes of getting behind the wheel. It was a powerful car, and like all cars of its caliber, it took a driver who really knew what they were doing. Special advanced driver training lessons came with every purchase of a Lamborghini or a Ferrari, and for good reason.

It was then that the bell's shrill ring alerted the school to the start of the first actual class. Gym class – brilliant. Worse, it was tennis, which required fast movement, and if I had to move fast I tended to go a little overboard.

Ten minutes later, I was wearing Forks High School's grey gym uniform and introducing myself again to Mrs. Fritz. She didn't pay me much regard, instead blowing her whistle to gain the whole class' attention.

"All right, class, partner up. Please try to find someone with a similar level of ability to you – that is, beginners should partner with beginners, and the same goes for all other levels of experience and ability. Tasha, I know you'll partner with someone advanced, because I saw your performance a week ago in the social tournament and I won't have you blow any of the beginners away."

At least one thing had gone my way – I could work with Tasha. I grinned at her, and she smiled back. It was then that I realized that Mrs. Fritz was completely wrong if she thought my girl wasn't going to blow her opponent away. I was already blown away.

Tasha was so beautiful. My imagination could do her no justice. She was the only student in the class who was not wearing the horrible grey of the standard uniform – instead, she wore her track shorts and track team crop top, and her hair was tied back in her usual waist-length ponytail. She wasn't as curvy as some, but that was because she was right at her peak level of fitness and had absolutely no extra body fat. Given a little more weight, she would have been the image of contemporary female beauty, tall and slender but with beautiful feminine curves.

I growled under my breath, careful to keep the volume low enough that no human would hear me. My imagination was running rampant again. I forced my mind back into the present moment, silently berating myself for allowing it to wander quite so much.

"Only you can pull off that horrible uniform," Tasha told me. "I think you can pull anything off, you walking clothes horse."

"No," I said, "you're the walking clothes horse. I'm just lucky I have the face to distract from what I'm wearing."

"Riiiight. We'll sort it out on the court," Tasha said, and I nodded.

"I won't go easy on you," I warned her. I would, but no easier than I'd go on any other human – I was too fast and too strong not to rein myself in.

"Good, because I wasn't planning on going easy on you. I'll serve."