Sweet Evil Fangs novel Chapter 3

The next few days went as flat as a pancake. Everything felt quiet, almost dull. Some students still teased and laughed at me for always being alone. The truth? I don’t have any friends here. I’ve tried, but it’s hard for me to socialize. My interests are just... different. Most people here like hanging out, partying, or going out after class, while I prefer staying home, reading books, or watching shows.

I was once called a nerd because of that. Someone even said, “Who even reads books these days?”-

I wanted to roll my eyes. Duh, I do.

“Okay, class! It’s Friday today, and you know the rules!”

The girls groaned while the guys cheered and high-fived each other. For once, I actually relate to them—because I’d forgotten what Friday meant: Physical Education. Ugh. Or as I like to call it, physical torture. Every time we play sports, my classmates somehow find a way to make me the joke. If it’s volleyball, I’m the net. If it’s basketball, I’m the hoop. And if it’s dodgeball—well, I’m the first target.

“Go to your lockers in the gymnasium and change into your P.E. uniforms,” Mr. Brown, our subject teacher and varsity coach, announced, blowing his whistle right in our faces.

I muttered under my breath, low enough so he wouldn’t hear me. That whistle isn’t mandatory—he just likes feeling powerful with it, like it gives him control over the world. I rolled my eyes and walked toward the lockers as my classmates chattered and changed.

I honestly don’t get it. I’m a graduating student. Why are we still required to take minor subjects like P.E.? But then again, I missed a few minor ones in my lower years. I need to pass this class to graduate—and finally leave this place.

I can’t wait to travel out of country someday and maybe fall in love with someone. The thought made me pause mid-step. It was the first time I’d ever imagined something like that.

Maybe… I’ve been alone for too long.

I shook the thought away and mentally tossed it in the trash. No time for drama. With a sigh, I continued walking toward the gym. My heart pounded in my chest like a drum. I didn’t even know what sport we’d be playing today. It sucks being an irregular student—you never know what you’re walking into.

But can you blame me? I’ve had no time before. Between cooking, cleaning, grocery shopping, and working nights to make ends meet, I could barely attend classes.

Inside the gym, a few guys were already playing basketball, running back and forth like wild beasts fighting for their prey. The winner gets the prize, I guess. I never understood sports. Maybe I just hate them because of all the humiliation tied to them. Either way, I was fine staying on the sidelines.

“Listen up!”

That annoying whistle blared again. We gathered around Coach Brown in a circle. He rested his hands on his hips, scanning us with that stern “I own you” look.

“Today, we’re playing a sport you haven’t tried before.”

“Oh boy,” I muttered, half excited, half nervous.

“In this sport, you need to be fast, strong, and most importantly, use this—” he tapped his temple “—your brain.”

Someone raised their hand. Coach nodded at them.

“But sir,” the kid said, “there’s nothing inside your head.”

My jaw dropped. Coach Brown just got roasted. Some students choked on their laughter while others cheered. I wanted to laugh too but restrained myself.

“One-hour detention!” Coach barked, his face red. The kid smirked and left the gym, clearly pleased with himself. Lucky him—he just escaped P.E.

“All of you! Shut up, or I’ll fail your grades!”

I froze like a statue, swallowing hard. When he started pacing in front of us, hands behind his back, I silently prayed. I couldn’t afford to fail.

“Change of plans,” he said darkly. “We’re playing something difficult today.”

“Oh, that Sebastian is so lucky,” a guy beside me muttered. “I’m gonna beat him to a pulp.”

Poor Sebastian, I thought. He’d started a war.

“You have five minutes to change into your P.E. uniforms! Anyone late—even by one second—fails!”

Before I could even blink, chaos erupted. Students rushed toward the lockers, shoving and tripping over each other. Someone stepped on my foot, and I stumbled to the floor. I coughed but pushed myself up, ignoring the pain. Time was ticking, and the locker rooms were probably already full.

I hurried over and spun my locker combination with trembling hands. Panic buzzed around me like static—no one wanted to be late after that threat. When I finally got my uniform, I headed for the bathroom to change.

VERIFYCAPTCHA_LABELVerify