Teen Wolf: Don't Touch My Girl

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Chapter 5

Rainey's POV

Sunny slowly released his grip on Devon's throat. Devon immediately scrambled away, gasping and clutching his neck, his eyes wide with terror as he stared at Sunny.

Devon stumbled backward, practically tripping over his own feet to get away from Sunny. "What the hell—" he started to say, but his voice cracked.

Brad was still cradling his twisted wrist, whimpering softly. He leaned close to Sarah's ear and whispered something urgently.

Sarah looked shaken, but her pride wouldn't let her back down completely. She fixed her cold gaze on Sunny, her voice tight with barely controlled anger. "Sunny Hayes, right? Fine. You win this round. But I'll remember this."

Sunny casually tossed his pen back onto my desk, the movement carrying a careless arrogance that seemed to radiate from every line of his body.

Before leaving, Sarah shot me a venomous glare. "Don't think this is over, bitch," she hissed. "Meet me tonight after school. Coffee shop, behind the building on the forest trail. You better show up, or else..."

A chill ran up my spine from my feet, and I couldn't suppress a shiver. Sarah noticed my reaction and smiled coldly before sauntering out of the classroom with her wounded entourage trailing behind her.

My fingers were digging so deep into my palms that my knuckles went white. It took me several long minutes to calm the panic racing through my chest. When I finally turned around to thank Sunny, the space behind me was empty. He had vanished without a sound.

I let out a shaky breath and bent down to pick up the test paper that had been scattered on the floor during the confrontation. I carefully wiped off the dust with a tissue and smoothed it out before placing it neatly on Sunny's desk.


After lunch, I walked toward the counselor's office to submit my SAT registration forms. That's when I spotted him in the hallway.

Sunny was leaning against the metal railing, his black hoodie hanging loose over his well-defined arms, revealing a plain white t-shirt underneath. The sunshine filtered through the windows, casting light across his sharp features. The collar of his shirt was slightly open, showing his collarbone gleaming with a thin layer of sweat, and I could make out a small scar near his left collarbone—a thin line barely visible against his pale skin.

Noticing my stare, Sunny lifted his eyelids slightly and looked in my direction. Again, that brief golden flash seemed to flicker in the depths of his pupils. I immediately looked away and hurried toward the counselor's office.

When I came out of the office, I saw the school counselor standing in front of Sunny, speaking to him in her professional, helpful tone: "Sunny, how's your transcript transfer going? Do you need me to contact your previous school's counselor?"

Sunny twisted open a water bottle and took a long drink, completely ignoring her question. Ms. Wilson didn't seem offended and continued, "Here's your course planning sheet. All your AP course credits can transfer normally. If you need to adjust your class schedule or if you have any issues with application deadlines, remember to book my office hours."

She paused, her expression becoming more concerned. "I heard from Principal Williams that you're not staying in the dorms—living alone in an off-campus apartment. You need to be careful out there, okay? If anything happens, don't hesitate to call me. And if you change your mind about boarding, the school can arrange a single room for you without a roommate. There would be an additional fee, but it's much more convenient. If you need that option, just let me know."

Sunny gave a dismissive response: "Don't need it."

His gaze casually drifted to me, several meters away, walking slowly down the hall. My heartbeat accelerated.

Ms. Wilson pressed on: "Well, make sure you submit your Ivy League supplemental essays soon. I need time to write your recommendation letters. Beacon Hills only has limited Ivy League acceptance slots each year, so you need to work fast."

Sunny lazily hummed an acknowledgment.

After Ms. Wilson left, I quickened my pace toward the back exit, but Sunny's long legs blocked my path at the door.

He was leaning against the door frame, hands shoved in his hoodie pockets, one leg propped up against the wall. "What were you eavesdropping on?"

I looked up and shook my head. "I didn't mean to overhear."

Sunny dropped his leg and studied me with those eyes that seemed to see right through everything. After a moment, he headed back to his next class.


Evening Study Hall

The afternoon AP Physics and AP Literature classes dragged by in a blur of formulas and literary analysis.

Near the end of study hall, my phone buzzed. I glanced down, and the message on the screen made my eyes fill with panic.

Looking up, I saw Sarah holding up her phone and waving it at me with a smug expression. Her smile was anything but sweet—more like a demon wearing a beautiful mask. The other cheerleaders sitting around her were whispering among themselves.

The text read: **Little bitch, the trail behind the coffee shop. **

I shoved my phone back into my backpack.

After Sarah and her cheerleader crew left, I bent down to pick up my eraser and noticed Sunny's pen on the floor next to my chair. I picked it up and, after a moment's hesitation, slipped it into my pocket.

When study hall ended, students began filing out of the library. Sunny, who had been sleeping in the corner, lazily pulled on his hoodie before heading out. I immediately followed.

After leaving school, he pulled out a pack of mints from his hoodie pocket, popping one into his mouth as if trying to control something.

He glanced back at me, and I immediately looked down at my feet. Sunny half-closed his eyes, took a deep breath of the damp air, and continued walking with his hands in his pockets.

I kept following him: when he took a step, I took a step.

Sunny then leaned back against a tall Douglas fir tree, his long fingers beckoning me forward.

I pressed my lips together and walked up to him with small steps.

Sunny asked, "What's your deal?"

I pulled the pen from my pocket and handed it to him. "I found this."

Sunny raised an eyebrow slightly and took the pen. "Thanks." He had only taken two steps when I blocked his path again.

"What now?"

I looked up to meet his eyes.

I said, "Principal Williams brought you in personally. Teachers respect you. Sarah—they're all afraid of you."

Sunny yawned. "So?"

I took a light breath, as if gathering enormous courage: "Could you... could you help me?"

Sunny's gaze didn't linger on me for long. He asked slowly, "Why would I help you?"

I explained, "Before, when they beat me up, I went to the teachers. I even called the police. But nothing ever came of it..."

After hearing all this, Sunny didn't even lift his eyes, responding in a flat tone: "Oh. That sucks for you."

Sucks for me? That's all?

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