Mom came into my room not long after, letting me know that everything with the school was sorted. I’d be starting tomorrow. The thought sent a strange mix of excitement and nerves through me.
That night, I lay in bed, staring at my phone, debating whether or not to text Vito. My fingers hovered over the screen as I tried to figure out what to say. Bianca and I never really texted. We always hung out in person, so this felt foreign.
“Me 9:58 p. m.”
“I’m all set for school tomorrow. What time does it start?”
“Vito 9:59 p. m.”
“Cool! It starts at 7 a. m. Be at my house by 6:46.”
I wanted to respond, but sleep crept in, making my eyes heavy. I drifted off with my phone still on my chest, half-covered by the blanket.
Morning came quicker than I expected. Mom popped her head into my room, rousing me from sleep.
“What time is it?” I mumbled, squinting at my phone.
“5:10,” she said with a knowing grin. “Regretting not taking that extra week off now?”
“Definitely,” I grumbled as I forced myself out of bed.
A quick shower woke me up, and I let my shoulder-length hair dry on its own. I rummaged through my old makeup bag. Bianca once tried to teach me, but the attempt had been a disaster. Still, I could manage eyeliner, so I applied it carefully, making my green eyes-swirled with flecks of white-stand out.
I headed downstairs, half-awake, to find a plate of maple syrup-covered sausages and frozen pizza on the table. I couldn’t help but smile. Some things never change.
By 6:42, I stood outside Vito’s house, nerves gnawing at my stomach. When the door opened, it was Beta Tommaso who greeted me, his face lighting up in recognition.
“Here for Vito, I assume?” he chuckled. “Tell your mom I’ll be over tomorrow around six.”
I nodded, unsure what to make of that. The thought of him coming over regularly made my stomach twist. Why did it bother me? It shouldn’t.
“You actually showed up,” Vito said with a smirk as he grabbed his bag. “I thought I might’ve scared you off yesterday.”
“As terrifying as you are,” I teased, “I really do need a ride.”
His chuckle was warm, and for a moment, I felt a flicker of hope. Maybe things here would be different. I wasn’t asking to be popular or stand out-I just wanted to fit in.
“Well, since you called me scary, you’re riding in the back,” he joked as we headed outside. “We’re picking up a few friends. Don’t worry-they don’t bite. Well, Sofia does sometimes, but you might like that.”
I wasn’t sure whether to laugh or panic.
We pulled up to a house a few minutes later, and soon, a boy and girl-clearly twins-hopped into the car. The girl slid in next to me, her eyes wide with curiosity.
“Uh, Vito?” she said, a teasing glint in her eyes. “There’s a girl back here.”
“Yes, Sofia,” Vito groaned. “Her name is Isabella. She’s new.”
Sofia looked me over before nodding. “I like it.”
Sofia, with her long, wavy brown hair and bright eyes, was the embodiment of confidence. Her twin, Enrico, who sat up front, was quieter but no less charismatic, with an easygoing smirk that seemed permanently fixed to his face.
As we picked up another girl-Chiara, with her smooth, olive-colored skin and tight curls-I began to relax. The four of them chatted effortlessly, pulling me into the conversation like I’d been part of their group forever. It was unlike anything I’d experienced before. I wasn’t the outcast here, like I’d been back home. Maybe my old pack had it wrong.
When we arrived at school, I tried not to look overwhelmed by its sheer size. I was glad to have a group to lean on. As we got out of the car, Enrico tapped on the window of a sleek grey car parked next to us.
A guy stepped out, tall with dark onyx hair and sharp grey eyes. He shot Enrico a tired glare.
“Do you wake up like this?” he asked, his voice dripping with sarcasm.
Enrico grinned. “It’s called being in a good mood.”
The guy’s eyes landed on me. “You must be the new girl.”
“That’s me,” I replied, trying to sound confident.
“I’m Carlo,” he said, extending his hand. “My dad’s the Alpha.”
“I’m Isabella,” I smiled, shaking his hand. His gaze was intense, but not in a way that made me uncomfortable. More like he was sizing me up, figuring me out.
As we walked, Carlo kept the conversation light, asking about my mom and how I was settling in. He shared stories about his family-four brothers, all pushed through their father’s rigorous training to be the best warriors. His easygoing nature put me at ease, though there was something about him that reminded me of someone from my past. The thought tugged at a part of me I hadn’t realized still hurt.
Classes flew by in a blur. I had Vito and Sofia in the morning, and Chiara and Carlo in the afternoon. By lunchtime, anxiety clawed at my insides. Lunch had always been the worst part of the day back home.
But this time, when I scanned the cafeteria, I caught Carlo’s eye. He waved me over to their table. For a moment, I hesitated, thinking maybe he meant someone else. But no-it was me.
The five of them, along with a few others, welcomed me without hesitation. They made room for me, drawing me into their conversation with an ease that felt foreign but good. Sitting there, laughing and talking, I realized something.
I wasn’t an outsider anymore.