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American Werewolves

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We head over to the fountain where Adam and Deon are, sitting
with a guy I’ve never seen before. He has blue highlights in his black hair
and he’s wearing an ACDC t-shirt over a white long sleeve tee. He looks
like he really doesn’t want to be here.
“Hey guys,” Adam says, shifting his black baseball cap on his head.
His brown hair flips out from under it, which I think is kinda cute. “This is
Anker. He’s new this year,” he nods at the blue/black haired guy, “And
Anker, this is Carmen and Tess,” he looks at me with his crooked smile.
“What grade are you in?” Carmen asks immediately; she made it
clear back in June that she wasn’t gonna be “frolicking” with any
freshmen her senior year.
“Junior,” Anker says, not looking at her. Yep, he was angry. Carmen
nods just as the first bell rings. Anker gets up and walks away without a
word.
“What’s his problem?” I ask Adam, waving goodbye to Carmen.
Adam shrugs and holds the door open for me. “I think he’s mad
because he had to switch schools. What do you have first?” he pulls a
crumpled piece of paper out of his jeans pocket.
I look down at my schedule and scowl. “AP Biology.”
“ I have painting 1. Wanna trade? I can’t paint shit.”
And I can? “No. I gotta go up to C hall so I’ll see you at lunch. We
can see if we can guess who the werewolves are,” I joke, but I see
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