Power Streak by Lucia Ashta

Author:Lucia Ashta [Ashta, Lucia]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Published: 2019-10-26T05:00:00+00:00

16

Professor Whittle’s transformation was too drastic to be natural—or a coincidence.

I shot up in my seat to take in the teacher at the front of the room, and I wasn’t the only one. The entire class of fourers seemed to be staring at the instructor, mouths slack.

Professor Whittle was somewhat tall, somewhat lanky, and otherwise unremarkable with his brown disheveled hair and plain yet pleasant face. Ordinarily, Professor Whittle was the kind of man you walked right by without giving a second glance. His personality matched his looks.

Ordinarily…

But there was absolutely nothing ordinary about the instructor now. He was a completely different person—or rather, persona. Teaching about the interrelations between different werewolf packs across the world, never had I seen him more animated. His eyebrows, eyes, and nose scrunched up and wiggled to emphasize whatever it was he was saying. Even I, who could follow his lectures while snoozing, wasn’t paying a lick of attention to a single thing coming out of his mouth. His lips were a constantly moving example of the vast variety of expressions possible, and his hands paved the path for every one of his words, waving around in the air as he gestured and punctuated and pointed.

He paced across the front of the auditorium, whirling on a dime to face us as he came to a conclusion, whatever it was. Then he wiggled his hands in the air, threw his head back and laughed, and resumed his pacing, talking all the while, until he bloody jumped right up onto the desk to mark whatever he’d been saying with a big, fucking exclamation point.

Dave and Adalia, who’d entered the classroom after us, and who’d taken seats on the other side of me, leaned forward to stare at the rest of us. Their eyes were as wide as Rina’s and Wren’s.

“What the hell is going on right now?” Dave asked. “Tell me I’m not the only one seeing Professor Whittle having some kind of seizure or mental lapse or…” He trailed off and we all turned back to stare at the instructor.

All around the auditorium, the other fourers leaned forward in their seats in unison, taking in his performance.

He could have been talking about the varieties of cardboard and we still would have hinged on every one of his movements.

“What the…?” Wren whispered next to me.

I stared at Professor Whittle some more. He’d jumped down from the desk with a hoot and a holler and launched into something about how one pack went about recruiting a werewolf from another pack for mating purposes.

Finally, when I couldn’t deny that something fishy was definitely going on, I plucked the neckline of my shirt open and peeked inside.

One by one, my friends followed my movement and leaned toward me. Dave tried to peek inside my shirt too before I swatted him away.

Instantly, he blushed, looking between Wren, whom he was dating, and me. “Sorry.” He grimaced. “I’m so confused by what’s going on that I wasn’t thinking.”

I was starting to believe I might have a very good idea what was happening, and I was still confused.

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