Chapter 9 Academic Pressure (Brynn POV)
I made it through exactly two periods before everything fell apart.
Harper and I had spent the morning searching for Jaxon, but he was nowhere on campus. His lacrosse teammates claimed they hadn't seen him, and when we checked the wellness buddy schedule posted in the student services office, his name had been temporarily removed. No explanation. Just gone.
"He's avoiding you," Harper had said as we walked to third period. "Which means he knows you know, and he's not ready to deal with the fallout."
"Or he's meeting with his father right now." I'd adjusted my backpack, trying to ignore the knot of anxiety in my stomach. "Planning how to claim his property."
"Don't think like that. Not yet."
But it was hard not to think like that when the Council was demanding status reports and Alpha Hale had filed official inquiries. Hard not to feel like a rabbit being circled by wolves.
Still, I had midterms in three days. If I failed my classes on top of everything else, I'd lose my scholarship and the whole supernatural crisis would become moot. So I went to Calculus, slid into my usual seat near the middle of the room, and tried to pretend my world wasn't collapsing.
Professor Chen was already at the board, writing out the warm-up problem. "Good morning, everyone. I hope you're all prepared for our pop quiz today."
Groans rippled through the classroom. I pulled out my notebook and pencil, trying to focus on the equation in front of me. Derivatives. I could do derivatives. Jaxon had just taught me this.
Then the scents hit me.
Coffee from the girl two rows ahead not just coffee, but specifically a caramel macchiato with extra foam and a hint of cinnamon. I could smell each component separately, identify the quality of the beans, detect the artificial sweetener she'd added.
Perfume from the guy behind me something expensive and woody that made my nose itch. I could smell his deodorant underneath, his body wash, the fabric softener on his shirt.
And underneath all of that, something more primal. Fear. The sharp, acrid scent of a student who hadn't studied and knew they were about to fail. Arousal from somewhere in the back row hormonal teenagers being hormonal teenagers. Anxiety, boredom, hunger, all of it flooding my senses in an overwhelming wave.
I pressed my hand against my nose, trying to block it out, but that only made it worse. Now I could smell my own hand sanitizer, the detergent on my sleeve, the faint trace of Harper's shampoo from when she'd hugged me earlier.
"Miss Calloway?" Professor Chen's voice cut through the sensory chaos. "Are you alright?"
"Fine," I managed, lowering my hand. "Just a headache."
"Would you like to go to the nurse?"
"No. I'm fine."
But I wasn't fine. Because now that I'd noticed the smells, I couldn't un-notice them. And worse, other senses were amplifying too.
Heartbeats. I could hear them. Not just the person next to me, but everyone in the room. Twenty-three hearts beating at different rhythms, some fast with anxiety, others slow with boredom. The sound was deafening, like standing in a room full of drums.
Conversations from other classrooms. History lecture two doors down something about the French Revolution. Spanish conjugation practice from across the hall. A couple arguing in whispers in the bathroom down the corridor.
"Alright, class." Professor Chen clapped his hands, and the sound made me flinch. "Twenty minutes for the quiz. Show your work, and remember"
I didn't hear the rest. The fluorescent lights were suddenly too bright, buzzing with an electric hum that felt like needles in my brain. The scratch of pencils on paper sounded like nails on chalkboard amplified a thousand times.
The quiz paper appeared on my desk. I stared at it, trying to make sense of the symbols, but they kept swimming in and out of focus. The derivative of 3x²... I knew this. Jaxon had explained it. 6x. Simple.
But my hand wouldn't cooperate. The pencil felt wrong, too light and too heavy at the same time. I managed to write "6x" but the letters looked foreign, like I'd forgotten how to form them properly.
Next problem. The chain rule for (2x + 5)³...
Coffee smell intensified. Someone had just taken a sip, and I could hear them swallow, hear the liquid move down their throat, hear their stomach acid preparing to digest it.
I was going to be sick.
"Time check," Professor Chen called. "Fifteen minutes remaining."
Panic clawed at my chest. I'd completed maybe three problems out of twenty. Everything else was blank or had scratch-outs where I'd started and immediately forgotten what I was doing.
Focus. Just focus.
But focusing meant noticing that the girl next to me had anxiety that smelled like burnt metal. That the guy in the front row had a elevated heart rate that suggested he was cheating, looking at notes hidden in his calculator case. That someone three classrooms away was crying, their distress a physical presence I could almost taste.
"Five minutes."
I scribbled random numbers and formulas, anything to make it look like I'd tried. My handwriting was barely legible, letters and numbers bleeding together as my hands shook.
"Time. Pencils down."
I dropped my pencil like it had burned me. Around me, students passed their papers forward, most looking confident or at least resigned to their performance. I passed mine forward too, knowing before it even reached Professor Chen's desk that I'd failed.
The rest of class was a blur. Professor Chen lectured about integration, but I couldn't process the words. Everything was too loud, too bright, too much. I kept my head down and tried to just survive until the bell rang.
"Miss Calloway, stay after please."
The words I'd been dreading. Other students filed out, shooting me sympathetic or curious glances. Harper paused at the door, mouthing "wait for me," before reluctantly leaving.
I approached Professor Chen's desk on unsteady legs. He held my quiz, and even from three feet away I could see the mostly blank page, the desperate scribbles, the obvious failure.
"Brynn." His voice was gentle, concerned. "I'm worried about you. This isn't like your usual work at all."
"I know. I'm sorry. I just" My throat tightened. "I didn't sleep well. I'll do better on the midterm."
"This is the third assignment in a row where your performance has dropped significantly." He set the quiz down, folding his hands. "Combined with what happened at the assembly last week, I think you need to speak with Dr. Reeves."
"No." The word came out too sharp, too desperate. "I'm fine. I just need to study more."
"Brynn, I'm required to report significant changes in student performance, especially when there are other concerning factors." He pulled out a hall pass, already filling in the counseling office. "This isn't a punishment. We want to help you."
I took the hall pass because I had no choice. "Can I take a makeup quiz?"
"We'll see. Focus on your mental health first." He gave me a small, encouraging smile. "Everything else can wait."
But everything else couldn't wait. The Council wanted reports. Alpha Hale had filed inquiries. And I was apparently about to transform into a wolf within days whether I was ready or not.
The walk to Dr. Reeves's office felt like a march to execution. Every step amplified the sounds and smells around me students in classes, teachers lecturing, someone microwaving popcorn in the staff lounge. By the time I reached her door, I was shaking.
"Brynn." Dr. Reeves looked up from her computer, surprise crossing her features. "I wasn't expecting you until our regular session Thursday."
"Professor Chen sent me." I handed her the hall pass. "He's concerned about my academic performance."
"I see." She gestured to the familiar uncomfortable chair. "Sit down. Let's talk."
I sat, gripping the armrests to steady my trembling hands. Dr. Reeves studied me with that clinical gaze that always made me feel like a specimen under a microscope.
"You look exhausted," she observed. "Have you been sleeping?"
"Not really."
"And the medication I prescribed after the assembly are you taking it regularly?"
"Yes." A lie, but she didn't need to know I'd thrown most of the pills away after reading the side effects.
"I think we need to increase your dosage." She turned to her computer, typing notes. "The stress of midterms combined with the recent trauma is clearly affecting you more than we anticipated."
"I don't need more medication."
"Brynn, your teacher is reporting concerning behavior. You failed a quiz you should have aced. You look like you haven't slept in days." Her tone was firm but not unkind. "I know you don't like taking medication, but sometimes our brains need help to maintain chemical balance."
She printed something a prescription, probably and stood to retrieve it from the printer. While her back was turned, I saw her medicine cabinet, the same one she'd opened before to give me "anxiety medication" after the assembly.
What if Harper was right? What if the medication could hurt me now that the suppressants were broken?
"Here." Dr. Reeves handed me the prescription along with a small bottle. "I'm giving you a few days' worth to start immediately. Take one now, one before bed, and we'll reassess in our Thursday session."
I stared at the bottle. Little white pills that were supposed to help with anxiety and sleep. Harmless for a human. Potentially fatal for a werewolf whose body chemistry was changing.
"Take one now, please." Dr. Reeves filled a paper cup with water from the cooler. "I want to make sure you start treatment immediately."
My hands closed around the bottle. "Can I take it after lunch? I haven't eaten yet."
"Brynn." Her voice took on that edge I recognized the one that meant she was done negotiating. "You need to take the medication now. If you refuse, I'll have to document that in your file, and we'll need to discuss whether you're complying with your medical watch requirements."
The threat was clear. Take the pills or face expulsion.
I twisted the cap off the bottle with shaking fingers, tapping one pill into my palm. It sat there, small and white and potentially deadly, while Dr. Reeves watched with expectant concern.
"Brynn?" A voice from the doorway made us both turn.
Jaxon stood in the threshold, slightly out of breath like he'd been running. His amber eyes found mine, then dropped to the pill in my hand.
"I need to speak with Miss Calloway," he said. "It's urgent. About our wellness buddy session."
"Mr. Hale, this isn't a good time"
"With all due respect, Dr. Reeves, this can't wait." He stepped into the office uninvited, his presence somehow filling the small space. "Our session was scheduled for this morning and she missed it. As her assigned wellness buddy, I'm required to check on her welfare immediately."
Dr. Reeves frowned. "She's currently in a counseling session."
"Which I'm required to attend if it's related to her medical watch status." He pulled out his phone, showing her something I couldn't see. "School policy, section 4.7 of the peer support guidelines."
I had no idea if that was real or if he was making it up, but Dr. Reeves's frown deepened as she read whatever he'd shown her.
"Very well," she said stiffly. "But Brynn needs to take her medication first."
"Of course." Jaxon moved closer, until he was standing right next to my chair. Close enough that I could smell cedar and pine and mountain air. Close enough that his proximity made my wolf instincts surge. "May I see the prescription? I need to document it for the wellness buddy program."
Dr. Reeves hesitated, then handed him the bottle. He read the label, and I saw his jaw tighten almost imperceptibly.
"This is a pretty strong dosage," he said carefully. "Has Brynn taken this medication before?"
"A lower dose, yes. Given her recent decline, I'm increasing it."
"And you've checked for contraindications? Medical conditions that might make this dangerous?"
"Mr. Hale, I'm a licensed counselor with access to her complete medical history. I don't need a student questioning my clinical judgment."
"I'm not questioning your judgment." His tone was respectful but firm. "I'm fulfilling my obligation to monitor potential medication interactions as outlined in the wellness buddy training. If something happened to Brynn because of a drug interaction I didn't flag, I'd be held responsible."
He was good at this. Playing the concerned student volunteer while clearly trying to stop me from taking pills that could kill me.
Dr. Reeves sighed. "Fine. What specific concerns do you have?"
"Has her bloodwork been updated recently? These medications can affect liver function, and if her enzyme levels have changed which they can during periods of high stress this dosage could be harmful."
"Her last bloodwork was six months ago."
"Then shouldn't we run new labs before increasing her medication?" He looked at me, his amber eyes intense and focused. "Brynn, when was the last time you had blood drawn?"
I understood what he was doing. Giving me an out. "Six months ago. Like she said."
"And have you experienced any unusual symptoms lately? Dizziness, nausea, sensitivity to light or sound?"
"Yes," I admitted. "All of those."
"Then I think we should hold off on the medication increase until we can run current labs." Jaxon turned to Dr. Reeves. "I'll walk her to the campus health center right now. We can get bloodwork done today, and once the results come back, you can adjust her medication appropriately."
Dr. Reeves looked between us, clearly frustrated but unable to argue with the logic. "Fine. But Brynn, I'm documenting this in your file. If your bloodwork comes back normal and you still refuse medication, we'll need to have a serious conversation about your commitment to treatment."
"Understood." I stood quickly, pocketing the pill I'd been holding. "Thank you, Dr. Reeves."
Jaxon guided me out of the office with a hand on my elbow, not speaking until we were well down the hallway and around the corner.
Then he turned to face me, his expression serious. "You can't take those pills."
"I know."
"They could kill you. Your body chemistry is changing as your wolf emerges. Human medications designed to suppress emotions and anxiety will conflict with your supernatural metabolism." He glanced back toward the counseling office. "At best, they'd make you violently ill. At worst, they'd shut down your liver and kidneys."
"Why didn't anyone tell me this before?"
"Because until recently, the suppressants your grandmother gave you kept your metabolism human enough that normal medications were safe. But now?" He ran a hand through his hair. "Now everything is different."
I pulled the pill from my pocket, staring at it. Something so small, that could have killed me if Jaxon hadn't intervened.
"Thank you," I said quietly. "For stopping me."
"I told you I'd help you." His amber eyes held mine. "I meant it, Brynn. Even if you don't trust me, even if you think I have ulterior motives I'm not going to let you die because of ignorance."
"Harper said your father filed an inquiry with the Council."
His expression shuttered. "I know."
"Did you tell him about me?"
"No." The word was firm, definite. "I didn't tell him anything. But he has other sources. Other ways of gathering information."
"Then how"
"Not here." He glanced around the empty hallway. "Meet me tonight. Same place as last time. Two AM."
"I have class tomorrow."
"And you almost just poisoned yourself. Which do you think is more important?" He started walking backward toward the exit. "Two AM, Brynn. Don't take any medication Dr. Reeves gives you until we talk."