Third-Person Limited - Kendra
By the time the second semester really settled in, the hallways were full of two main topics:
Exams.
And Spring Glow.
The posters were everywhere—on lockers, on classroom doors, even in the office window:
SPRING GLOW: FORMAL & CULTURE NIGHT
Music • Food • Dance • Performances
Dress to impress. Represent your roots. Don't break the gym.
"Who does this?" Kendra muttered, staring at one of the posters between classes. "Who says, 'Let's throw a school dance and a culture fair on the same night' and then actually does it?"
"People who hate free time," Maya said. "And love committees."
Kendra rolled her eyes.
Students had been buzzing for weeks. Spring Glow was the big thing before the end-of-year grind—final projects, exams, goodbyes. For seniors, it was a last hurrah. For the exchange students, it was one of the last chances to pretend the countdown wasn't already ticking.
For Kendra, it was the first time in a long time she'd thought about dressing up for something that wasn't church, graduation, or a forced school function.
"You going?" Erica asked, shoving her locker door closed with her hip.
"I don't know yet," Kendra said. She did. She'd been thinking about it nonstop.
"You're going," Sofia called from further down the hall, without looking up from her phone. "We bought the dress. We fought for the dress. The dress is destiny now."
Kendra's cheeks warmed. "It's not that serious," she said.
"That dress made Dominic forget how to form sentences when we showed him the picture," Sofia sing-songed.
Maya snorted. "He already forgets how to form sentences whenever you walk into a room."
"Both of you, be quiet," Kendra said, but she was smiling.
The truth was, she wanted to go.
Not just because of Dominic. Not just because of her friends. But because this felt like a marker. A line near the end of this weird, wolf-filled chapter of her life.
One more big night before choices got real.
"I'll go," she said finally. "But if the DJ plays the Cha-Cha Slide, I'm leaving."
"Deal," Erica said. "We'll all leave. In protest."
The week leading up to Spring Glow blurred into exams review and constant reminders.
Teachers pushed permission slips.
The student council president ran around like a full-time event planner.
@GarrisonTea posted polls and predictions, of course:
Who's going to be the Spring Glow power couple?
💙 Dom & Human Mate
💅 Frost & Mystery Date
😈 "Single & Not to Be Messed With"
Kendra did not vote.
She pretended not to care.
Then she'd catch Dominic watching her across the cafeteria with that soft, ridiculous look, and her stomach would flip anyway.
The afternoon before the dance, Ms. Hall intercepted them in the hallway.
"You two," she said, pointing from Kendra to Dominic. "Spring Glow rules: no fighting, no pranks, no broken bones. If anyone ends up in the nurse's office, it better be from dancing too hard."
"No promises," Kendra said.
"Promises," Dominic said at the same time.
Ms. Hall stared them down. "Split the difference," she said, and walked off.
Dress, Nerves, and a Sapphire
The night of Spring Glow, the house was chaos in the best way.
Hair dryers. Hairspray. Hot combs. Flat irons. Makeup exploded across the bathroom counter. Laughter bouncing off the walls.
"You'd think we were getting crowned," Jennie said, squinting at herself as she tried to fix her eyeliner.
"I am getting crowned," Sofia said. "Queen of the dance floor."
"Self-appointed," Erica muttered, blending eyeshadow like she was painting a masterpiece.
Maya was stretched across the bed, already dressed, scrolling her phone like she had all the time in the world.
Jeah and Alrreah argued over which lipstick counted as "too dramatic."
Kendra stood in front of the full-length mirror in their shared room and stared.
The dress they'd battled for was a deep, smoky blue—almost black at first glance, but when it caught the light, there were hints of silver and gray running through the fabric. The bodice hugged her curves without strangling them, with wide straps that didn't dig into her shoulders. The skirt fell in a soft A-line that brushed just below her knees.
Sofia had pulled her hair up into a high puff, leaving a few curls framing her face. A subtle shimmer on her eyelids, clean eyeliner, soft gloss.
The sapphire necklace Dominic had given her sat at the hollow of her throat, the stone picking up the dress and the lights at the same time. It looked like it had been made for this.
"Turn," Sofia said, appearing at the doorway. "Slowly. I want the full effect."
Kendra rolled her eyes but did as asked.
Everything went quiet for half a beat.
"Oh," Jennie breathed from behind her.
"Wow," Erica said. "You are about to ruin that boy's brain."
"Same brain you've been slowly melting all year," Maya added, not looking up.
Kendra swallowed.
Mirrors had rarely been kind to her.
Tonight, she didn't hate what she saw.
Big girl. Solid. Soft and strong at the same time.
The dress didn't hide her. It didn't pretend she was smaller.
It followed her shape and said this is me.
"You nervous?" Jennie asked gently.
"A bit," Kendra admitted. "It's a lot. People. Lights. Wolves. Feelings."
"Take it one dance at a time," Maya said. "If everything goes wrong, we'll fake a group emergency and bail."
"Don't tempt me," Kendra said.
But she was laughing when they finally piled into Sofia's car and drove toward the school.
The gym was unrecognizable.
Instead of echoing walls and too-bright lights, it glowed.
Strings of white and soft blue lights crisscrossed overhead. Paper lanterns hung at different heights. The bleachers were pushed back to make room for round tables with dark tablecloths and simple centerpieces that definitely screamed "made in the art room."
One end of the gym had been turned into "Culture Alley": tables run by clubs and students, lined with food and small displays—posters, photos, little objects from home. Scented steam and spices drifted through the air.
The DJ booth lit up the other end, speakers thumping out a mix of pop, soca, dancehall, throwback hits, and whatever else students had begged for.
Humans and wolves moved through the gym together—different outfits, different energy, same nervous excitement.
"You know," Maya said as they stepped inside, "I expected more ugly decorations. This looks… nice."
"Don't sound so surprised," Jennie said.
Kendra's eyes scanned the crowd.
She found him near the punch table.
Dominic was in a black button-down and fitted dark pants, sleeves rolled to his forearms. His hair was slightly neater than usual, like someone had actually cornered him with a comb. He was mid-conversation with Robin when he looked up and saw her.
He stopped talking mid-sentence.
Robin followed his gaze and grinned.
"Well, he's gone," Maya said under her breath. "We lost him."
Kendra tried not to fidget as they crossed the gym.
The music, the chatter, the lights—all of it blurred at the edges.
When they reached him, she cleared her throat.
"You good?" she asked. "You're staring like the fire alarm went off only in your brain."
"You look…" he started, then stopped, then tried again. "You look really beautiful."
"Almost said 'nice,' didn't you?" she teased. "I would've thrown you in the punch."
"That would be a waste of both me and the punch," he said.
"You're not wrong," she admitted.
"You look good too," she added, softer.
Robin clutched his heart dramatically. "Romance," he said. "Right in front of the drinks table."
"Go away," Kendra said, flicking an invisible crumb at him.
Robin retreated to go bother someone else.
Dominic stepped a little closer.
His fingers brushed the pendant lightly. "The necklace," he said. "It fits the dress. Or the dress fits it. Either way…"
"You're very proud of your fashion sense," she said.
"I am when it works," he replied.
Before she could respond, Principal Garrison's voice came over the sound system.
"Good evening, students."
The gym quieted a little.
He stood near the DJ booth, looking more like "principal" than "Alpha" tonight, though the authority was still there.
"No one set anything on fire yet," he said. "Good start."
Laughter rippled through the room.
He kept it short: rules, respect, no full shifts, no breaking school property, no drama.
"Have fun," he finished. "You've earned it. Some of you more than others."
The students cheered.
Music swelled.
Spring Glow officially began.
At first, Kendra stuck with her girls.
They drifted through Culture Alley, filling plates.
Rice and peas and chicken from a Caribbean table. Dumplings and noodles from one table. Little pastries and cookies from another. Some dishes she recognized instantly. Others she tried just because they smelled good.
Students talked about food from home, holidays, and little traditions.
For a moment, Kendra felt that weird, warm ache—memories of Christmas in Jamaica, of street food, of her mother fussing over seasoning.
But here, in this loud gym, surrounded by new people sharing bits of their own lives, it didn't feel like something was missing.
It felt like something had grown.
They ate.
They laughed.
They complained about how full they were.
Then the DJ announced a "slow one," and the mood shifted.
Lights dimmed a little.
Couples and maybe-couples drifted toward the center of the floor.
Kendra took a small step back.
Dominic appeared at her shoulder like he'd been waiting for this exact moment.
"Dance with me?" he asked.
"You know I'm not exactly graceful," she said. "There's a real chance I take you down with me."
"I've been tackled harder in practice," he said. "I'll survive."
"So romantic," she said dryly.
"One song," he said. "If you hate it, you can blame me forever. That's a good deal."
She snorted.
Her heart was doing the most.
"Fine," she said. "One song."
He held out his hand.
She took it.
The contact sent a familiar little hum through her skin, but she ignored it.
He led her to a clear spot on the floor, placed one hand gently at her waist, and took her other hand in his.
Her free hand settled on his shoulder.
They stood there, a little awkward, until the first verse slipped into the chorus and their bodies remembered what to do.
They moved slowly.
Not perfectly.
Just together.
Her dress swayed with each step.
She tried very hard not to focus on how warm his palm was through the fabric.
"You know," she said, "for someone who can turn into a giant predator thing, you're not bad at this."
"I've been forced to attend many dinners and events where dancing is required," he said solemnly. "You are witnessing Alpha heir training in action."
She snorted.
For a few minutes, the rest of the gym faded.
Not completely—she still heard laughter, caught flashes of other couples, smelled food and perfume and cologne—but it all blurred into background.
"You look happy," he said softly.
"I am," she admitted. "Don't start crying about it."
He chuckled.
"You're allowed to be," he said. "Happy, I mean."
"I'm working on it," she muttered.
Halfway through the song, a ripple passed through the room.
Kendra didn't see anything.
She felt it.
Wolves around the gym straightened slightly, eyes shifting, attention tugged toward the entrance. It was subtle, but she'd spent enough time around them to notice.
A new scent.
Sharp. Not familiar.
Dominic's muscles tightened under her hand.
His eyes flickered—not fully shifting, but touched with something brighter for a moment.
"What is it?" she asked quietly.
"Just a new arrival," he said. "Dad mentioned some relatives from out of town might show up. One of them's from another territory. Wolves notice new wolves."
"Is that a problem?" she asked.
"No," he said quickly. "Not if everyone behaves."
She narrowed her eyes. "And are you going to behave?"
He breathed out slowly, like he was actually making himself relax. "Yeah," he said. "I've got better things to focus on."
"Good answer," she said.
He looked at her.
The tension eased out of his shoulders.
The song ended gradually, the last notes trailing off.
They stepped apart.
"See?" she said, a little breathless. "Nobody fell. No broken toes."
"Very successful operation," he agreed. "We should celebrate with suspiciously red punch."
"Now you're speaking my language," she said.
The rest of the night passed in flashes.
Fast songs, stupid dancing, ridiculous group moves they'd all forget in a week.
Kendra danced with her girls, with Maya, even with Ms. Hall for a minute when she got dragged into a circle by laughing students.
She danced with Dominic again.
Once during a loud, chaotic song where they just jumped around and bumped shoulders.
Once more during a slower track later in the evening, when people were loosening up and the gym air was warm.
Culture Alley slowly ran out of food. A few tables packed up. Others turned into hangout spots where students sat and talked, laughing too loudly, taking photos.
At one point, Kendra caught Karina watching from near the wall.
No glare.
Just watching.
Their eyes met.
Karina gave the tiniest nod.
Kendra nodded back.
That was all.
No drama.
Just… proof that the truce was still holding.
Near the end of the night, the girls collapsed onto a patch of free bleacher, breathing hard and fanning their faces.
"My feet," Jennie groaned. "I can't feel my feet."
"That means you did it right," Erica said.
Sofia stretched her arms over her head. "This is it, you know," she said. "Last big thing before we start saying goodbye."
"Don't say it," Jeah pleaded, half laughing. "I'm not emotionally prepared."
"It's true, though," Maya said. "After this, it's exams, packing, weird farewell speeches."
Kendra leaned her head back against the cool wall and stared up at the lights.
She knew they were right.
Spring Glow was like a glowing bookmark near the end of the chapter.
"Whatever happens next year," Jennie said softly, "at least we had this. Together."
Kendra looked at them—these loud, stubborn, ridiculous girls who had dragged her to a foreign country, to a wolf town, to this gym.
She thought of the girl she'd been on the plane here.
Scared.
Angry.
Convinced she'd spend the whole year hating everything.
Then she looked toward the dance floor, where Dominic was talking to Robin and Antonio, glancing over every so often to check that she was still there.
Her chest hurt a little.
But in a good way.
"Hey," Erica said, nudging her. "One more song?"
"Just one?" Kendra said. "Coward."
They all dragged themselves up, laughing.
Sofia grabbed Dominic as they passed and shoved him toward Kendra. "You are obligated to join," she informed him. "Boyfriend duty."
He went willingly.
The DJ put on something loud and upbeat.
They danced.
Badly.
Joyfully.
For a while, there were no mates, no councils, no deadlines, no questions about next year.
Just music and movement and sweat and laughter.
Just now.
When the lights finally came up and the DJ announced the last track, the room groaned collectively.
Students collected jackets, shoes, half-finished cups.
Teachers started the slow, patient process of shooing everyone out.
Kendra slipped off her heels and carried them, feet grateful for the cool floor.
At the doors, she turned back for a second.
The gym looked smaller with the main lights on.
Decorations a little more rumpled.
Confetti and cups and napkins scattered.
But it was still pretty.
Still theirs.
"You okay?" Dominic asked, joining her, his jacket over his shoulder.
"Yeah," she said. "Just… taking a mental picture."
"Of what?" he asked.
"This," she said. "Us. Here. Before everything changes."
"Not everything will," he said.
She shrugged. "Enough will."
He didn't argue.
Outside, the air was crisp.
The night felt wide.
They walked down the steps together, her shoes dangling from one hand, his arm brushing hers.
"I don't know exactly where I'll be next year," she said, half to herself.
"Me neither," he said quietly. "Not really. Not for sure."
"But I know I won't forget this," she said. "Any of it. That's something."
"That's a lot," he said.
They reached the parking lot.
Sofia honked impatiently from the car.
Kendra rolled her eyes. "Your fan club is waiting," she said.
"My fan club is you," he replied.
She made a face. "That was cheesy."
"True, though," he said.
She hesitated, then leaned in and pressed a quick kiss to his cheek.
"Thank you for tonight," she said. "For not letting me hide."
He touched the spot where she'd kissed him, looking dazed.
"Anytime," he said.
She walked toward the car before he could say anything that would make her cry.
As she climbed in, she glanced back.
He stood there for a moment, watching her go, gym lights behind him, night stretching ahead.
The story was almost at its end.
But instead of feeling like she was being dropped off a cliff, it felt… like coming to the last page of a good chapter, knowing another one waited after it.
Whatever happened next, she didn't regret stepping into this world.
Not anymore.