The Headmaster Alpha's Mate

The Headmaster Alpha’s Mate Prologue The Diary of Chole Hancock 7th July Dear Diary, Okay, so, I know I have not been faithful in doing my daily journal entries, but I honestly have a very valid reason. You see, things in my life have gotten very weird of late. It all started around a month or so ago in my Chemistry class. Now, I may have blown up an experiment, which, by the way, I firmly put the blame at the teacher’s door! I mean come on, who sit’s a bunch of seventeen year olds Boy, Girl, Boy, Girl along the lab tables in a bid to control them! NOBODY! But Mr Phillips in his infinite wisdom did just that, and if he hadn’t treated us like 5-year-olds thinking the opposite s*x had cooties, rather than the teenagers we are that want nothing more than to catch the cooties from boys or girls next to them, it would never have happened! So, there I was sitting next to the hottest boy in school, “Monty”, captain of the football team, captain of the cricket team, and by all accounts the best kisser in the school, and like any other normal hormonal 17 year old, it was too good of an opportunity to miss, and I channelled my inner flirt to perfection. Now, we were tasked with making some concoction or other that can, if not treated with care, explode. The instructions were to heat very gently on the Bunsen burner. Again, in my defence, at least I remembered the low heat was the yellow and not the blue flame, so it could have been a lot worse. What I did not realise, due to zoning out during Mr Phillips' demonstration, is that to ‘very gently’ heat you only use the tip of the flame! I was busy heating my explosive ‘handle with care’ concoction in the centre of the flame, whilst having a great conversation, which was going really well might I add, and had the potential of ending in a much sort after date; and finding out if ‘Monty’ was in fact the best kisser in school, not that I have a lot to go on being classed as a little weird just because I do not subscribe to wearing pink and have that rock edge and ‘don’t give a s**t’ attitude that girls sneer at, and boys seem a little intimidated by. ‘Monty’ was just asking what I was doing on Friday night after school and at that precise moment, my explosive concoction, well, it exploded! A massive bang making bitchy Bev, the queen bee of our year, scream and hide under her desk (Drama Queen), the test tube glass exploding everywhere. A shard of glass hit Monty and, as a result, now has a small cut with a few stitches on his handsome face. Hey, the scar will make him sexier, I did him a favour, and the whole episode resulted in a two-week suspension, plus one week grounding by my parents to teach me a lesson, and ‘Monty’ looking at me like I was something he had trodden in! A week later, I was finally free from my home punishment, and having no school to attend, I decided to make good use of my time, and go get the fantastic hairstyle I had been saving for, so I headed for the hairdressers in the local shopping centre and had my waist length black hair dip dyed with a very vibrant purple and lilac colour. I have to admit it looks fierce, and I love it, my mother and father, not so much! Anyway, I leave the hairdressers and I am walking along minding my own business when suddenly there was a man, now if Monty is the ‘Hot’. This guy is a blazing inferno. Tall around six four at a guess, dark brown hair that looked like his hands had just run through it, and it had fallen effortlessly perfectly around his strong jaw line, his amber-coloured eyes bright, and don’t get me started on his body, it was out of this world! Wide chest, you know the type of chest that strains against the black t-shirt he was wearing, the hint of ink on his big bulging guns on each arm and his thighs, thick and just WOW! This man was, I would guess, around 24, but still he was hot with a capital H. He stood motionless when he saw me, and just stared, but as our eyes met, I began to feel goosebumps, rising up my body covering every inch and making a bee line straight to my core. New panties were required, no joke, literally soaked, instantly! So, there we were stood staring at each other, in the middle of the shopping centre, and well, as much as I was enjoying looking at this s*x God, it was becoming embarrassing, so I walked past him, and hot damn just being closer to him made my heartbeat out of my chest. Now here is the weird part, when I got to where he was standing, to walk past, his eyes never leaving mine. He actually growled, I mean who does that? It was like an animal growl, one that would normally have me thinking ‘Freak’, but oh no, when this guy did it, I felt like my knees became weak, and my body exploded from head to foot in sparks. Then he turned on his heel and left. Now here is the really weird stuff that is happening. Every night I dream about him, and in that dream, he tells me he will see me soon. It is so real I would swear he is right beside me, but when I wake up to my utter disappointment, I am alone in my bedroom. I must admit, I have spent a lot of time in the shopping centre, like, crazy stalker amounts of time, to try and see him again, because he is that hot, but no such luck and now my time has run out. A week after that strange encounter that left me hot and bothered, my Dad got an offer for a new job, a massive promotion, in Japan of all places, and the new company had specifically head hunted him. Apparently, they like to invest in the whole family and give opportunities to their staff’s children. Now Japan is the one place I have longed to go, so happy was an understatement when I found out that we would be moving there. But my happiness was short-lived, because oh no, I am not going, despite looking like an Anime character with my hair. Nope, the new company Dad is working for decided that I should be given every opportunity to ‘reach my untapped potential’ here in the UK! So now I am being carted off to a boarding school / college/ university, up north in the highlands of Scotland, where they teach’ gifted and talented students’ or those who require a little help in a more ‘disciplined environment’. Now I know I am not academically gifted or talented, given I have Disl …deslex… dyslexia (why make that word so hard to spell!!!!) and I get bored and distracted very easily, so I believe I am being sent to some sort of boot camp, to a creepy looking castle that would look amazing in any horror movie, that has been renovated into a school that takes you from Primary education right through to degree level, and from what I can gather from the brochure that they gave my parents, sounds like a cult! The Crescent Moon Academy, as it is called, has five houses, “Full Moon House” For those with leadership qualities who are aged 16 plus “New Moon House” For those with special gifts or talents aged 16 plus “The Half Moon House” For younger leaders from age 8 plus “The Blood Moon House” For those who show good potential in military skills – All ages “The Eclipse House” For those who need to find their place in the world. – All inclusive See what I mean, weird and cultish, and the worst part is, despite ‘Sexy Hot God’ haunting my dreams, each and every single night, I now know, I will never bump into him again, because tomorrow my parents are taking me to The Crescent Moon Academy, hundreds of miles away where I shall spend my day’s learning and being disciplined and that dear diary sucks ass!