EACH TIME GRAEME ASKED our group of Eights to quiet down they obeyed without question. I wasn't sure if I was impressed or a little envious; even as head girl, there was no way I'd generate the same response, what with my apparent awkwardness and phobia of children (if I could call it that). And yet, Graeme seemed to have them under his spell. Maybe it had to do with the combination of his handsomeness, comparatively older age and pearly, pearly whites.

The so-called parents' meeting had lasted for about an hour, after which mothers and fathers came scuttling out of the office building, looking for their kids. At the time, my group and I were sitting under a tree while our Eights sat close by in a circle of chatter. Some got up instantly when they saw their parents, like they could not wait to get away from us, and others seemed to want to stay.

"Do we have to go home now?" one girl asked Graeme in a sweet voice, a voice designed for him.

"You do, sorry, Rosie," he replied – her name fit her perfectly when she started to blush.

Rosie had been the nearest to Graeme, the one who'd been asking all the questions on behalf of the group since the moment she sat down. She was so obvious, and I could not help but wonder how much she would like him, or any of us, once the real initiation began. She gave Graeme a cute little wave and was off, along with the last lot of them, to find their moms or dads. The only exception, I noticed, was Merribel.

"Are your parents coming?" I asked as she finished sending a text.

"No, Justin's fetching me," she told me, and I wanted it to be a lie. I should have been excited to see Justin, but I hoped to meet their parents more, to see them, just once. "Want to say hi?"

"No thanks, that's okay. See you tomorrow, Merribel."

"Okay." I realised how vivid my disappointment was when she gave me that confused stare again. "See you tomorrow."

I watched the girl gravitate towards the main entrance and looked out for Justin's car. A part of me was relieved to find that he had not arrived yet, and that part did not wait for him to. Graeme and I strolled around the school to make sure everyone had left before finding ourselves at the main gate, waiting for my mom to arrive – one of the less glamorous responsibilities of the head boy and girl was to leave all events dead last. Mr. Crawford was sitting in his BMW, parked on the side of the road. We normally walked to my house after school and Graeme would stay over until his dad got off work, but since we had only been away for a little over two hours, our parents were fetching us.

"I've lost you."

"What?" I blinked at Graeme, the lights switching back on.

"Justin's sister, Merribel," he said. "Why didn't you go with her?"

"Oh," I muttered, looking at the ground and shrugging a shoulder. Yes, I could have asked Justin to drive me home, but I figured the car was full, going one way only.

Graeme was quiet for a while, and when he did speak it was delicate. He knew me, and he knew enough about Justin's private lifestyle. "She seems really sweet, though. If she's anything like her brothers, I'm sure you'll get along with her just fine."

I smiled at him – or at least I tried to. "Don't worry about it, Grae. I just wanted to meet her and now I have, so it's fine." He gave me that look again. "If Justin didn't even want me to meet her, he definitely didn't want me to befriend her, so I'm just going to stay out of it."

"That doesn't sound like the Leslie I know."

Of course it didn't sound like me; I was the one who wedged my nose into things. I retorted by sticking my tongue out at him and concocting a laugh. All things considered, it was a beautiful day, and I didn't want to ruin it for either of us by feeling sorry for myself. But Graeme changed the subject before I could.

"What are you going to do when you get home?" I gave him a grin, one he knew well enough by now: the sleuth-the-internet-for-supernatural-junk grin. "Of course. Vampires?"

"Werewolves, actually. Last day to get in some good hours before school starts," I explained. "What about you?"

"I'll probably wash my hair," he said with an accusatory glance that was funnier than anything.

"Aw, but I worked so hard on it," I joked, which earned me a look that was neither amused nor unamused. Then, the mint glimmer of Hyacinth approaching caught my eye. "That's me," I said, and I was just about to give Graeme a hug goodbye when he stopped me.

"What are you doing?" he asked. "You can't just go; I have to greet your mom first." He gave me this playfully disapproving shake of the head, which felt like it lasted until the moment Mom parked in front of us. I gave him a good punch on his arm.

Mom reeled down the visor, revealing her braided vines of hair and boho shades, and Graeme looked at her like the victim he wanted her to think he was while he rubbed the spot I knew didn't really hurt. Baby.

"Hi, Mrs. R."

"Hi, Sweetie." Mom took off her shades and ogled us for a few seconds before coming to her traitorous conclusion, "Leslie, did you hit him again?"

My jaw dropped when Graeme started laughing. "He deserved it!"

The relationship between my mother and my best friend, though inspiring at times, had to have broken some unwritten law here. How was I the one being ganged up on?

"Thanks for waiting with her, Graeme," Mom gave him a friendly wink before gesturing me into the car.

"Always a pleasure, Ma'am," he smiled and went on his way.

They were evil, pure evil.

On the drive home, I plucked my phone out from my bag and sent Graeme a 'thank you' myself. I saw that Louella had sent me a message, too, but before I could read it, I was answering Mom's anticipated question: how was school. After a second of thought, I came up with a measly "It was good" which somehow made her smile.

"And you were worried. I told you being head girl isn't so bad."

And she spoke from experience.

"It's only the first day, Ma. There's a whole year to go."

"Still," she said, punctuating our conversation and any more arguments from my end. "So, what was going on with Graeme's hair?"

I choked on a mixture of laughter and my own breath.

Mom had to fill the car up, so we stopped at the petrol station. As we pulled in beside the pump, I switched the radio on and reclined into the car seat. The news was almost always the same: bear attack in the Hills, then how many killed and how many injured – this time, it was just one. Though I admit I was surprised; it had been three months since the last 'incident' and I was beginning to think the police finally had everything under control. But then again...

"Please, stay away from the Hills and the nearest surrounding areas. We cannot stress enough how dangerous it is for anyone to be out there!" That was the voice of Deputy Michael as he replied to the question 'What do you have to say to the public?'

"God, even his voice is delicious," Mom chimed in.

"Mom, I'm trying to listen," I laughed lightly; it was no exaggeration that Christopher Michael was a fine specimen of a man, but even so, I had to shush her.

"What about the restrictions set up by the Department? They are clearly ineffective. Will they be made stricter, will the repercussions for entering the Hills be made more severe?"

"Yes; should the situation worsen, curfew hours will have to be prolonged," Michael seemed to have to think about that one, but he answered quickly enough that it would go unnoticed. "In addition, the standing jail sentence for those who violate the restrictions will most likely be extended, but our primary concern as of now is Thandeka's recovery."

"The victim, Thandeka Lane, is the daughter of a fellow Deputy, correct?" It was not really a question. "Will she be treated as equally as the previous violators of –"

I shut it off; I didn't want to hear about how they thought Thandeka would get any special treatment because of who her dad was, and knowing who they were talking about didn't make it any easier. Thandeka and I had never been close, but I still knew her. We went to school together. Primary concern.

"I'm sure she's fine," Mom said comfortingly. "We'll get something for the family this weekend, okay?"

I couldn't know if it would be enough, but the idea put a smile on my heart. I wanted to be able to do more than just wish for her recovery; maybe we could bring her flowers or some of Mom's teas.

Hyacinth reared into Dad's parking spot in the garage, taking advantage of the fact that he had already left for work. We took the door from the garage into the kitchen, and I listened to the chime of small metal keys as Mom picked out the right one. That was when I noticed the chain of woven verbena dangling from her keyring like part of a dreamcatcher.

"Want one?"

I shook my head, smiling amusedly at the woman who was Clementine Rowe. As she ducked into the kitchen, I followed, and was promptly welcomed home by the scent of French toast.

"Is Ronan still sleeping?" That was the only possible explanation for the fact that there was any food left. Mom's reply came in a hum as I leaned against the counter and thoughtfully selected the most golden-brown toasty.

Mom chuckled as she watched me. "I have to head to work in about an hour. Save some for your brother, please."

I moaned in delight from the first bite, relishing the flavours that tickled my taste buds. "I'll save him some, but if he doesn't wake up soon..."

"Leslie!" Mom scolded me, while laughter still speckled her speech.

"I'm joking, I'm joking." That was what I said, although I wasn't quite sure if I was.

The hour went by sooner than expected, waiting for no one. I'd only realised it when I could hear Mom leaving again, from the comfort of my bed. Ronan was awake by then, and had consumed our brunch like Dormammu consumed planets. Fortunately, I'd reserved for a plate for myself and snuck it into the room with me. Then, I remembered the text message from Louella. Our conversation went as follows:

Lou: Hey, I'm sorry about earlier... I know you and Justin worked through your issues, I didn't mean to remind you that you had any in the first place.

Me: It's fine, I know you're only asking because you care.

Lou: Thanks, love. I just don't want him to hurt you again.

Me: We'll kick his ass if he does.

Lou: Ready when you are!

Me: 😂

Lou: About to attend another one of those meetings... Fun times... Mwah!!!

Me: Yaaay..! Lol, enjoy... mwah!

I tossed my phone onto the bed, momentarily forgetting my laptop was there. I stared blankly at the screen and my Dorian Danes in the Shadow World wallpaper, when inexplicably, I felt like I was being chastised by the whole darn cast.

"It didn't even hit you," I countered.

They didn't fight back, obviously. This show was the medium between total supernatural boffins like me and regular teens who enjoyed the romance and drama of forbidden love. Be it humans and vampires, humans and werewolves, or humans and witches, we were suckers for it. I was probably the biggest sucker. Bringing my laptop onto my knees, I was about to proceed with my original afternoon plans when fate reminded me of something; if you speak of the devil, he shall appear – right on my doorstep, apparently. The simple tune of an incoming message suddenly sounded far more sinister than it had before.

I'm outside.