14 Potential (1/2)

At the pool, Hunter sat on the bench watching the others finish the last relay for the day. He had been benched by the coach for finishing dead last in the second race. Usually he would be neck and neck with Luka or Anwar, the best swimmers on the team, but today he was barely keeping up with the group.

When training was over, Luka and Anwar came up to him on the bench. Luka put a wet arm around his buddy's shoulder and nearly knocked him sideways off the slippery plastic bench.

”Swimming a little heavy today, weren't you?” Anwar asked without looking at Hunter. He was concentrating on stretching his arms over his head.

”How does a man from the desert swim so fast anyway?” Luka interjected, smiling at Anwar mischievously, dark gray eyes twinkling.

”How can I not? It's so hot out there that I cannot help but take to the water. I would rather drown than melt.” His caramel skin glistened as he rubbed water off his toned arms. Standing next to the two paler boys, his deep color stood out even more.

”So, what is it, then?” Luka asked, bringing the question back to Hunter.

”It's not anything,” Hunter answered, smiling, waving their concerns away with a dismissive gesture of his hand.

”Ah, so it is not a 'what' but a 'who' then is it?” Anwar teased. Luka laughed and clapped Hunter on the back, sending droplets of water flying.

”It's not anything,” Hunter repeated, smiling mysteriously.

***

Hunter was an experienced shape-shifter. He was not as seasoned as his father or his grandfather---especially the latter who had been shape-shifting for well over a hundred years now---but he had been shifting in and out of his werewolf form since he was 12 years old.

After just six years of shape-shifting, he thought he already knew all there was to know about being a werewolf. Young people are often like that: buoyed by the confidence of youth, they get a taste of something and they think they know everything there is to know about it.

They believe it.

And why shouldn't they? If they make it part of their lives, obsess over it, eat, sleep, drink, and breathe it, doesn't that count for knowledge? It's one of the most powerful feelings in the world: to be young and to know with confidence that you believe in something with all your heart.

Hunter felt that way about being a werewolf. It was his greatest secret, and also the best thing he loved about being alive.

The day before, at lunch time, he had felt a connection with Ash Parker. And though he did not know it at the time, that connection had something to do with his one great love.

He had been at the cafeteria, eating chicken wings with his friends, when Ash Parker looked his way. He knew who she was: everyone at the Academy knew of the infamous Orphan Scholar. He hadn't expected it, but that afternoon, looking at her, staring at her, he felt a new knowledge of her creep under his skin, like a golden warmth flowing through his veins.

He knew all the wild stories about her: that she'd been abandoned as a baby, that she was at the school to get knocked up and marry into a rich family, that she was only safe because she sucked up to the Comtesse who protected her and her trashy friend, among other nasty rumors.