A/N: Hello there, fellow fanfictioners!
I know, I know. I'm a terrible person, focusing on a completely new story rather than the two Stiles/OC fics I already have going on. However. Whenever I'm reading a fix where someone is close to Lydia and therefore close to Jackson, I get all the best friend!Jackson feels, so I needed to do a fix like that. And this just kind of happened. I'm sorry, okay?! My hand slipped and this just came out. Totally not my fault.
I have no idea where this is going to go, I don't know any pairings or whatever, but I'm starting from Season 1 and going with it. Come the end of Season 2, however, I'll be changing it up a bit. Too many deaths and disappearances for my liking, and for this story, so hurrah for fanfiction and being able to manipulate the canon story line for my liking!
Also, this is my first ever chapter coming from my new iMac! I'm still getting used to it, as I've never had one before, so bare with me, because the typing is weird and I haven't proofread this yet.
Anyway. Links to my Tumblr and Polyvore for this fic will be on my profile as usual. And I have a face claim from the beginning, for once; Olivia Cooke. I decided to stick with my apparent theme of OC's with names beginning with 'A'.
I don't own Teen Wolf. Shock Horror.
The wolf moved closer.
Or, at least, the man-sized mass of black fur and shadow that Kendra knew to be one of the nightmarish wolves that had been haunting her, day and night, in both her life and dreams, moved closer.
If someone has told her just a week ago that she would be paralysingly terrified of a small pack of creatures somewhat resembling oversized wolves, who had been stalking her all week, while in the metal confines of her car, she probably would have told them to stop taking whatever drugs they were on, and to think about taking up creative writing.
But now, sat in the driving seat and on the verge of a panic attack, Kendra wasn't so sceptical.
She'd barely noticed them before, had barely spared the wolves roaming the side of the country road she sped down on her drive home a second glance. But since the early hours of Thursday morning, when she'd been woken up by a loud howling coming from inside her own head, she hadn't been able to stop thinking about them. How she passed them on her drive into the studio in town she worked in, and then again on her drive home. How, if she looked out through the massive windows of the studio at almost anytime of day, she would see at least two of them, lazing in the shade cast down by the trees, or winding through the large trunks. How she would catch sight of them running alongside the road, hidden behind the trees as she took her daughter to the mall. How, even if it was her bathroom mirror she was looking in, she would find herself staring into the bright, blood-red eyes over her shoulder whenever she glanced at her own reflection. How the howling would keep her up at night.
At first, she thought she was being paranoid. Then, that maybe she was losing it; that she should head to a doctor, get some help.
After she turned the corner on her deserted drive home only to see them spread out over the entire road, however, she knew neither was the case. She wasn't hallucinating, and those wolves were definitely following her.
What she didn't understand was why. Why her? What was it about her that was so appealing to that particular pack of wolves? Did she smell nice to them, or was it on a completely different level all together? She just didn't get it, and it wasn't like she was going to get an answer from them anytime soon.
Another howl broke through the silence, this one definitely from the wolves just outside her car, and Kendra shook her head.
"I'm not just going to sit here like a fish in a barrel." The hulking black mass to her right snuffled and moved closer to her door. "I'm going to start up this car, and y'all are either going to move or one of y'all are going to get hit. I ain't going to stop, and ain't going to help you, so make up your mind." She turned the key in the ignition, relieved that she and Nick had agreed on new family-friendly cars over beautiful old ones when she heard the engine spring to life without a fuss.
The feeling didn't last long.
Kendra heard a startling pop from her right, followed by a long, drawn-out hiss that sounded a lot like air being released from a tyre. A lot. She heard it again, over her right shoulder, before a loud bang from in front of her had her head whipping back around to face the bonnet.
Or, more accurately, to face the large, snarling, literally-foaming-at-the-mouth wolf on her bonnet.
She'd never been more terrified; not when she found out her brother was enlisting when she was fifteen, not when she fell of a horse for the first time, not when she found out she was pregnant with her daughter and her mom made her watch all of those birthing videos. This was a whole other world of fear, and Kendra could hear her heart beating frantically in her ears, could almost see it through her chest. And by the way the wolf in front of her cocked it's head, she swore it could hear it too.
She heard another howl from behind the car, saw a flash of red in the rearview mirror, before they all began to growl, inching slowly towards her. Kendra whimpered, reaches blindly beside her for her purse, her phone, while trying to keep an eye on the approaching threat. A bang above her tells her one of them is on the roof of her car, and she can hear it scratching; but not like it was trying to claw its way through. It was like a long, drawn-out drag of one claw along the metal - like it was taking its time, trying to wring as much of the fear out of her as it could with just that one claw. She finally finds her phone, seeing through the tears that, of course, there's no service. She can't even call Nick, her children, can't tell them she loves them, hear their voices, just one more time.
She was going to die alone. Crying, terrified, and alone.
The sound of shattering glass that followed the thought was drowned out by Kendra's screaming.
I woke up to screeching tyres from the road at the end of our drive.
I sat up at my desk where I had fallen asleep, blinking away the tears that usually formed after the dream I had, once again, and glanced at the clock on my laptop, which told me it was gone one in the morning. School started back after the winter break in a couple of hours, and if Dad found out I'd fallen asleep at my desk watching Breaking Bad again, he was going to ban me from any and all television, so I quickly closed my laptop and made my way to the dressing table to take my jewellery off when something outside caught my eye.
We lived in the Beacon Hills Preserve, our long driveway linking the house to one of the roads on the edge of the woods, and the entire plot was covered in trees. During winter, however, with the trees barer than in the midst of summer, I could usually see the road, and everything in between the road and the house, from my window. Usually there's not much to see, just leaves, animals and the occasional jogger, but one in the morning wasn't the usual time for a shaggy-haired, teenage boys to go out for a run, especially not when wearing jeans. So I opened my window, hissed "McCall!" in a voice barely above a whisper, and then begun chastising myself. My dad was so going to kill me.
Despite the quiet call, the boy in question seemed to hear his voice, and looked around, finally landing on me when I waved my arm around a little, using my other arm to prop myself up against the roof under the window, leaning forward in a vain attempt to get closer, so I didn't have to yell. His eyebrows flew up when he saw me, and he begins looking around, as if trying to find whoever I was talking to.
"Is there another McCall wandering around the woods outside my house, or are y'all the only one I should be worried about?"
"Well, if there is another one, it's my mom, which means she knows I'm out here. And if that's the case, she's gonna be pissed." I smiled, hiding it behind an eye roll and an exasperated sigh.
"What are you doing out here, McCall? It's the middle of the night."
"I was out here with Stiles-"
"Oh, of course, you were. When are you not with Stilinski?" McCall either didn't hear me or just decided to ignore me.
"And we got separated, and when I tried to find the road, I almost got run down by a car, so now I'm thinking I'll take my chances with the wolf." My blood ran cold at that.
"The what?"
"The wolf. I got bit by something, and I heard howli-"
"There are no wolves in California, McCall." It was one of the reasons the place was so appealing.
"But I saw one!"
"No, you didn't. You probably saw a coyote or something. I swear, I keep seeing the same one every time I run passed this particular point in the preserve, and it-"
"Why're you talking to me?" I stopped, frowning as I looked down to the boy, his head cocked as he frowned back in confusion.
"What do you mean?"
"You've lived here for maybe a year, year and a half? And you've never spoken to me. Not even to aid Jackson's attempts in making my life miserable. So why bother talking to me now?"
I paused, blowing out a breath as I considered my answer. "Would you rather I go all stereotypically Southern on your ass and yell at you to 'get off my land' while waving a shotgun in your face?" I asked, raising an eyebrow.
He shook his head, still frowning. "No."
"Well then, stop complaining. Give me two seconds, I'll be right down." I pulled my window down to cut off McCall's questions, wrote a note to Dad in case he woke up and realised I was gone - as much as I would like to avoid his wrath after he found out I snuck out in the middle of the night, I'd much rather that than face his terrified, worried face once I got home - and grabbed a jacket to go over my shorts and Jackson's old Beacon Hills Lacrosse tee as I slid my shoes on, and crept out onto the hallway, making sure to close my door behind me. Luckily, I didn't have to pass Dad's door and my door was right next to the stairs, so I avoided the creaking ones as I stepped down them, grabbing my keys from the bowl on the table in the middle of the foyer before slowly opening the front door, making as little noise as possible, and shutting it tight and locking it. I turned around and skipped down the front steps, waving at McCall to follow me around the house to my Mini Cooper, parked in front of the garage.
"You… you're gonna give me a ride home?"
I scoffed. "No, I'm gonna let you walk home alone, through the preserve, in the middle of the night with an animal bite in your side while my car is right there. I'm gonna get you to the hospital, get your mom to have a look at you." I pressed the button on the car key, the headlights flashing as the doors unlocked. The windows in Dad's room faced the back yard, rather than the side of the house, so he was unlikely to see it, or notice it was my car that woke him up, if it came to that, before he fell back asleep again.
"How'd you know my mom's a nurse?"
"I know everything, McCall. Just shut up and get in."
"Are you sure?"
"Would I be offering if I wasn't?"
McCall grumbled quietly in response, probably something I wouldn't want to hear, before he slid into the passenger seat. I checked the house once more before I slid into the driver's seat, and I spared a quick glance in my passenger's direction before starting up the car, wincing slightly at the louder-than-expected noise.
"Are you gonna get in trouble with your dad for this?" McCall asked, sitting up straight as though wanting to avoid leaning his dirty and bloodied jacket against my squeaky-clean seats.
"Only if he finds out. I'm sure I can trust you not to say a word to him?"
"Yeah, of course. Unless he threatens to stop me from getting into college if he finds out I'm hiding something."
I couldn't hide the small smile at that. "Pretty sure he doesn't have that kind of power at the college. And unless you decide to study Mathematics there, he won't be around you enough to make your college life a living hell."
"That's good news, I guess." The car fell silent for a few minutes, the only noises the mutes sounds of the car on the road. "Thank you. For this. You didn't have to."
"Don't worry about it. Knowing I left y'all to walk home alone in the cold while wounded would've kept me up at night, and I need my beauty sleep to keep looking this pretty."
He laughed quietly and turned his upper body to look at me. "You really don't seem like a bitch."
"Um… Thanks, I guess?"
"No, I didn't… I meant… Uh, I don't know. You've just… You always seem so…"
"Snobby? Full of myself? So far up my own ass that I can't see daylight?"
"I was going to say 'bitchy'. I wouldn't say you're any of those things."
"Oh, but Stilinski would." McCall opened his mouth to argue against that, but I cut him off. "I've heard it all with my own ears, McCall. I'm not hard of hearing, and he's not exactly quiet about his feelings."
"He just doesn't know you."
"Not knowing someone doesn't give you free reign to make assumptions about them."
"Well if they're not the kind of assumptions you want people to make about you, why do you act the way you do?"
"I don't like people. I don't like talking to them, or spending time with them, or making friends. And if people don't like me, then they don't try any of those things with me, and everyone's happy."
"So you're happy, knowing what everyone thinks about you? Thinks that you're a total bitch?"
"My friends and family think otherwise. That's all that matters to me."
"I think I'm starting to think otherwise." I turned to McCall, frowning at me from his seat, before he smiled the little puppy dog smile he was almost famous for. "You can just drop me off at home."
"What?"
"I don't think I need to go to the hospital. I feel fine, and it doesn't seem deep."
"Dude, you could have rabies or something!"
"Did you just call me dude?" I scoffed and rolled my eyes.
"Get over it. I'm taking you to the hospital."
"I'm fine, really. I'll clean it up when I get home and keep an eye on it."
"It could be infected, McCall."
"I'm a nurse's son. If I think it's infected, then I'll get it checked out. But until then, I can handle it."
"McCall…"
"Really, I think it's fine. We're nearly there anyway, and I'd really rather just go home and try to get what's left of a good night's sleep before school." He suddenly brightened. Visibly. "I'm gonna try out for lacrosse tomorrow."
I frowned. "I thought you were already on the team."
"I am, but I'm trying out for first line." His smile was too big; I really didn't want to bring his mood down."
"Well… Good for you. I hope you get it." McCall looked at me suspiciously - or as suspiciously as he could whilst still grinning like that.
"Really?"
"Yeah. It'll be good for Jackson to get some new competition. He needs someone to keep him on his feet."
He snorted. "I don't think I'll be giving Jackson any competition any time soon, but thanks anyway."
"Hey, don't sell yourself short. Half of the battle is attitude. You go in there, telling yourself you've got this and you're gonna be great, and your chances of doing just that are already that much higher." I looked over to see him smiling, looking at the road through the windshield. He nodded.
"Take a right up here." He pointed, gesturing the way, before returning his hands to his lap. "You know, you're really nice for someone who hates people." I huffed out a small, insincere laugh, nodding. I thought of my mom, like I always do when people bring up my attitude towards people. It's not like it was her fault, what happened, but that attitude was still due to her. Due to losing her. "This is it, on the right." I nodded, shaking myself out of that train of thought and pulling over in front of the McCall residence. I cut the engine and turned to McCall.
"If I don't see that thing cleaned and dressed first thing tomorrow morning, I'm going to drag you to the hospital with my own two hands." I held up said hands to make a point, raising my eyebrows and silently daring him to doubt me. Instead, he just smiled. "I mean it McCall."
"Scott," he said, rushed and loudly, like he hadn't meant for it to come out. I raised an eyebrow and he scrunched up his face, confirming that suspicion. "Sorry, I… my name's Scott."
I smiled a little; I couldn't help it. "I know what your name is."
"It's just, you sound so much like Jackson when you call me McCall, and, before, it was fine. I get that you guys are friends, and hanging out with him, you would've heard him refer to me as McCall whenever he decided to honour me with his attention-" I snorted at that, and he smiled in return, still talking, "- and before tonight, I always thought you were the same kind of person, you know? And calling me McCall was just a 'that sort of person' thing to do, but you're not… you're not that sort of person. Not from what I can tell, anyway. So, I thought… I don't want to associate you with the kind of person who calls me McCall just because it's easier than using my first name and imagining me as an actual person, instead of something that's blocking your locker."
I sat in stunned silence for a few moments, unsure of how to respond. "People think you're stupid." Goddamn it. McCall's… Scott's face fell, and I don't think I'd ever felt so guilty in my life. "That's not what I meant. At all. It's not that people think you're stupid, it's more that they… underestimate you, I guess. And they don't think you're capable and can figure stuff out, because you're not the best in your class or captain of the lacrosse team, or whatever. And I hate to admit it, but I always thought the same thing. And I know I'm a terrible person for it, I'll be the first to hold my hands up and admit that it's a terrible thing to do, to assume you know someone. I hate it when people do it to me."
Scott cut me off before I could continue, not looking at me with his face a mix of anger, pain and a little bit of humiliation."Do you have a point here, or did you just want to let me know that everything thinks I'm stupid."
"My point is that they're wrong. That I was wrong." Scott still refused to look at me, instead gazing out of the window in front of him, but I could see the hard set of his face relax a little. "High school is a shit time for anyone-" Scott's snort interrupted me, but I just rolled my eyes and continued, "- more so for some than others, I'll admit, but it's still shit. And people who have everything going for them now probably won't once we graduate, and vice versa. You figured out high school, and it's not even like you tried."
"And how does this make your point, exactly?"
"Because not everyone is book smart, Scott." He seemed to relax a little more when I said his name, the first time I'd used it out loud since I saw him in my yard. "Lord knows Jackson isn't, but he's still doing pretty great for himself." Scott frowned, but I barrelled on. "He knows his strengths, and he plays to them. He's a symbol, a leader; people look to him when they want to see the all-American 'popular' jock, and he knows that. People don't look down on him because he's not smart, they look up to him because he demands it, and no one even really notices that. You just need to find your strengths; find what you're unquestionably good at, something nobody can take away from you. And you stick to it."
Scott frowned, nodding slowly. "What do you think I'm good at?"
I shrugged. "I don't know you, not really. So that's a question you'll have to find the answer to yourself. Or at least with people who do know you. But you seem like a nice guy, Scott. And you get people, in ways a lot of people don't. In ways some people probably don't even get themselves. Maybe that's somewhere to start."
Scott nodded again, with less of a frown this time. Then it came back as he looked at me. "You thought I was stupid?"
I groaned miserably, shaking my head at myself before covering my face with my hands. I heard him breathing heavily, and panicked for a second, thinking his bite had gotten infected and he was going into shock or something. That was until I saw him laughing, with this proud look on his face. I shoved at his shoulder, and he laughed harder. "Dick." I laughed along quietly for a second, before shaking my head again. "Get lost. Go clean that bite of yours before it gets nasty and gross in my car."
Scott opened the car door, stepping out before bending at the waist to stick his head back in. "Hey, can you do me a favour and keep an eye out around your house for my inhaler? I dropped it somewhere around the… you know what, never mind. I'll just get another one."
"I don't mind, Scott. Those things are kind of expensive."
"Yeah, no, it's fine, don't worry about it. Maybe try to avoid going too far into the woods, what with… the, uh, coyote, or whatever."
"Are you okay?"
"Mm hmm." Scott nodded, a little too vigorously to be considered okay. "Just, don't bother looking for my inhaler. I'll try and find it tomorrow or something."
"If you're sure…"
"I am! Yeah, just… Okay. Thanks again, Amber. I really appreciate it. Goodnight." Scott slammed the door shut before I could return the sentiment and jogged up the stairs to his front door, dragging his phone and keys out of his jeans pockets as he went.
"Amber, for the last time, we ain't getting a cat!"
"Oh, c'mon. Please. Daddy, please." I pouted, bringing out the full-on sad puppy dog face that I had perfected mere years into my existence. I was four when I realised my dad broke under the pressure of it nearly every time, and I've yet to forget it.
There was one problem with the face, however. You needed to be looking at it to get the full effect. And Dad was determinedly not.
"I ain't looking. I know exactly what you're doing right now, and I ain't fallen' for it. Go get ready for school."
"Can't I get one for my birthday?"
"You're birthday was last week, and I got you a goddamn car. No cat."
"But Daddy…"
"Go now, or I'll but you a pet lizard instead."
"Ew, no thank you. Lizards are the devil. Literally, according to the bible."
"That was a snake, dumbass." I rolled my eyes and scoffed at my brother. I heard Dad sigh over his cooking bacon.
"Same difference. They're both creepy, scaly reptiles that have no business being household pets."
"Dad, can we get a lizard. Or a snake." Josh turned to look at me, an evil grin on his face. "I ain't picky."
"Urgh, you're such a dork." I threw one last glare at Josh as I got up from my seat, washing my dish and mug before standing on my tiptoes to place a kiss on Dad's cheek. "I'm going to shower."
"Yeah, you need one. I can smell you from here," Josh called across the kitchen.
"I suppose we've all just gotten used to your smell. You might want to clean yourself up, though, because I ain't sure the same can be said for that girl. What was her name…" I saw Josh's eyebrows rise up his forehead, a murderous look crossing his face as I pretended to think. "Melanie? Yeah, I think that was it. Melanie, in your French class."
I swear, I could almost see smoke coming out of Josh's ears as Dad looked between the two of us. "Who's Melanie?" Dad asked.
"Oh, no one. Just this girl who Josh as got the biggest ever crush on." I grinned.
"How do you know about that." Josh's face barely moved as he spoke, and the lack of inflection in his voice made the question sound like more of a statement.
"I know everything, Joshua. Even you should know this by now."
"Amber, stop teasing your brother. I remember your first serious crush; would you like us to tease you about that?"
I sighed. "That was a long time ago, Dad."
"it was three years ago. On your teacher." I scrunched my face up in embarrassment as Josh started laughing. Hard. He stopped laughing when I threw a wooden spoon in his direction and he fell out of his chair in surprise. Dad dropped his chin to his chest, sighing in defeat. "Could you just…"
I giggled. "School. Clothes. Got it. On it."
I turned and skipped towards the stairs as I heard Josh groaning from the breakfast table, decidedly not stopping to look at the photos of Mom on the wall as I passed, and quickly made my way to the linen closet just outside my bedroom door to grab a towel and headed for the shower. About ten minutes later I heard Josh giggling to himself as he passed the bathroom. I don't know why he was passing the bathroom, though, he didn't need to to get to his room. There's only Dad's office and bedroom on the other side of the bathroom, and I didn't understand why he would need to be in either of those.
I didn't understand until the hot water shut off abruptly and was replaced by the icy droplets hitting my skin. I screeched, quickly shitting of the shower and wrenching the curtain back, wrapping myself up in the towel too small to surround my body with. I left the bathroom quickly, turning to the right to my bedroom, but I stopped when I heard sniggering behind me. Josh was leaning against the doorway of Dad's bedroom, beyond which his en-suite lay. He had probably decided to flush the toilet, knowing the water system in this old house was rather temperamental. I shook my head at him, glaring, though I knew the look wasn't quite as effective when I felt a water droplet converge at the tip of my nose. Josh pulled his lips in between his teeth to keep from laughing.
"You'll pay for this. Mark my words. You'll pay." Josh choked down another laugh, and nodded solemnly, sarcastically. I growled at him, before spinning on my heel and marching into my room, slamming the door behind me. I continued to shake my head and plan my brother's demise as I pulled on my underwear and tights, and then followed them with a blue dress with a black leather collar and capped sleeves.
I put on my natural looking makeup and curled my dark, auburn hair lightly, plaiting the front sections and pulling them back, clipping them into place. My phone started to ring as I was putting my rose gold watch on, and I picked it up, pressing the 'answer' button when I saw Lydia's picture, and caught it between my head and shoulder so I could continue putting my jewellery on.
"Hey, Lyds."
"Are my sources correct in telling me that you were out with a boy last night? Late, last night?"
"Good morning to you, too. And I don't know who these sources are or why you make it sound so scandalous, but yes, I was."
"…Well?"
"Well what?"
"Did you get any?"
"Oh my… no, Lydia, I did not 'get any'. McCall got stuck in the preserve last night, and I gave him a ride home." I waited a beat, but Lydia didn't respond. "Lyds?"
"Who the hell is McCall?" I heard muffled scuffling on the other end, followed by Lydia chastising someone under her breath. "No, give it ba - what are you - oh my god, would you just-"
"You were out with McCall last night?" I sighed.
"Yes, Jackson, I was out with McCall. I really don't understand why you don't like him."
"It's not that I don't like him, Wilson, it's that people like us don't associate with people like him." I gasped mockingly down the phone, a ring-wearing hand held to my chest.
"Oh, last name terms, you are angry with me."
"Why were you out with McCall so late last night? Are you trying to commit social suicide?"
"No, but he was stuck out in the wilderness, alone, in the cold and the dark. I couldn't just leave him, Whittemore."
"You definitely could have."
"I'm from Nshville, Jackson. Ever heard of a little thing called 'southern hospitality'?"
"Pretty sure that's for guests in your house."
"Or for peers stranded on my land. Danny would totally side with me on this one."
"Danny isn't here."
"And neither, technically, am I. So tell Lydia I said bye and I'll see her at school."
"Don't you dare hang up on me, Wilson."
"Bye, Sonny. Love you too."
"Don't call me tha-" I hung up as Jackson started shouting down the phone, smiling to myself, and I sat down on my chaise to pull my booties on as someone knocked on my door.
"You can come in."
Dad peeked his head in through the small gap he made, smiling at me as I finished with my shoes and checked by purse for everything I needed. "Who's McCall?"
My mouth fell open. How on earth did I forget that Dad could've heard every word I said down that phone? How much did I say? Could I still get away with this? "Um. No one, just a boy from school. He's on the lacrosse team, with Jackson."
"Oh, okay. Are y'all friends?"
"Not really. Just… classmates, I guess."
Dad hummed, nodding. "Not really friends… but worth getting grounded over, apparently."
Damn it. "Oh, come on Dad, you can't be serious."
"Can't I?"
"I was helping out a fellow student. Would you rather me have left him out in the cold to walk home alone?"
"I would have rather you wake me up and let me take him home."
"Dad, I ain't stupid enough to get in a car alone with a guy who might try something."
"I'm not suggesting you are. I know you know better than that, but it was the middle of the night, and I had no idea you were gone. Would you have ever told me?" I ducked my head, guilt washing over me. "That's what I thought. Anything could have happened, Amber, and we wouldn't have had a clue. We could've been woken up at three in the morning to be told you were in an accident, or… and we wouldn't have even known you were out in the first place."
"I'm sorry, Daddy. I didn't think about that."
"I know you didn't. You wouldn't have done it if you did." I nodded, agreeing. Dad sighed. "Don't do it again. Next time you will be grounded. And it won't be the nice kind of grounded with the TV and your phone." I nodded again.
"I won't. I'm sorry. It won't happen again." Dad nodded back, and placed a hand on the back of my hair to place a kiss on my forehead.
"You bet it won't. Now get going, or you're going to be late." Dad leaned back and pounded his fist of Josh's door, next to mine. "C'mon, Josh, get your ass moving."The door swung open, and Josh came out, dragging his backpack across the floor behind him.
"How come when she sneaks out in the middle of the night with a boy, she gets let off, but whenever I do something wrong, I get grounded on the spot, without being allowed to defend myself?"
Dad dropped a hand onto Josh's shoulder "The last time you got grounded, it was because you set off a stink bomb in Coach Finstock's office."
"You can't prove that was me."
"You were hiding under the desk."
"I was just dropping off his Christmas present."
"Yeah, sure you were, kid."
"I'm just saying, generally, if a girl is playing with her hair and smiling directly at you when you're talking to her, there's a very good chance she likes you."
I pulled into the school parking lot and swung out of the car, Josh following close behind from the passenger side. I turned to him from over the roof of the car, to see his face scrunched up in thought.
"I don't know, Am. Maybe she just really likes playing with her hair."
"Are we talking about that Melanie girl?" Josh groaned as Lydia sidled up beside him, hooking her purse over her arm and laying it in the crook of her elbow. I nodded in answer. "How does she play with her hair?"
"I don't know," Josh mumbled.
"Well, is it like this…" Lydia flicked her hair over her shoulder with a haughty expression, "or more like this?" she asked, twirling her hair around her gloved index finger as she smiled sweetly.
"I don't know… the second one, I guess?"
"Are you telling me, or asking me?" Josh groaned and I smiled at his discomfort, until I saw something over his shoulder.
"Oh, Lyds, isn't that her?" Both Lydia's and Josh's heads swung around to the front of the school, where a blonde haired girl walked slowly, chatting to a few other girls. She looked over in our direction, saw Josh, and smiled shyly. Lydia raised an eyebrow in my direction, before shoving Josh's shoulder and gesturing for him to go talk to her.
"Go. She's already sold, so just be your usual cutie self and your golden." Josh just rolled his eyes, smiling still as he did so, and then began to move in between the cars, making his way towards Melanie. "Urgh. He's just so cute," Lydia said in a tone you might use on a puppy or a baby. Definitely not one you'd normally use on a fourteen year old boy, but hey. This is Lydia we're talking about. She can do whatever she wants to.
I smiled at Lydia's words and locked the car, both of us walking around to meet at the front of the car and leaning against the bonnet.
"How're you feeling?" she asked me.
I scoffed. "I'm fine, Lyds. Well, as fine as any teenager can be on the first day back to school."
Lydia just raised an eyebrow. "You know what I mean. I know you hate first days."
"It's just Christmas break."
"I know that, but it's still the first day back. So I'm going to ask you again; how're you feeling?"
See, here's the thing - my mom always had this big thing about first days at school. It didn't matter if it was the first day of middle school, or of the year, or just of the semester. Whatever the reason, the first day after a break from school was this big deal, like she was pumping us up to make it through the next few months or something. So we'd have a shopping trip the weekend before, for new clothes and school supplies. We'd have a big, family breakfast in the morning of whatever we wanted, and after school, we'd go out for dinner, or have a get together with our friends and neighbours and have an amazing end to the day. It easily beat the back-to-school blues away, and it put everyone in a brilliant mood for a while. Dad tried to continue the tradition after mom died, he did. But it just wasn't the same with such a big part of it missing, and a day that was supposed to cheer everyone up made us all cry instead. So he stopped trying.
After two and a half years, we could probably revive the old tradition and actually make it through the weekend without devolving into teary messes, but I don't think any of us really want to try.
The point is, first days just aren't the same without the First Day Weekend Celebrations, and without Mom. They're harder than they already should be, and it makes me miss her. I mean. I miss her all the time, but it's just so much worse on days like this. My closest friends know this, but it's rarely a conversation we have. It's not that Jackson and Danny don't want to talk about it, it's that they know I don't want to; Jackson understands the feeling of wanting to avoid the subject of dead parents, and Danny doesn't want to upset me. I know they're both there if I need to talk to them, but Lydia's the only one who'll bring it up, who'll push me to talk about it. Which is exactly what she's doing now.
"I don't know, Lyds. I'm alright, I guess. It gets easier every First Day, but it still sucks."
Lydia nodded. "Did you want to skip? We can go to the movies or something." I smiled.
"I'll have to do the First Day sooner or later. I'd much rather get it over with. But thank you." I looked over to send her a smile, and I got one of the few genuine Lydia Martin smiles back. "I might take you up on that offer later."
"Well, don't hold on to that offer for too long. It has an expiry date, you know. Oh, there's Jessica." I looked over to where Lydia was looking, and my eye caught Scott approaching the front steps from the bike rack.
"Okay, well I have someone I need to talk to you, so I'll catch the two of you in a minute, okay?" Lydia frowned in confusion, but shrugged and nodded, giving me a off-hand wave as she turned to meet our friend. I quickly followed Josh's steps, moving in between the parked cars and making my way over to where Scott was talking to Stilinski. I heard them talking about the wound covered by a bandage as I approached from Scott's left.
"… I'm pretty sure it was a wolf." Stilinski snorted at Scott and was about to reply before I cut in.
"I already told you, Scott. It definitely was not a wolf." Stilinski frowned, looking between Scott and I as Scott groaned.
"And like I already told you, I heard howling."
"Scott," Stilinski said, exasperated and still frowning. "California doesn't have wolves. Not for the last sixty years." Good riddance.
"Really?" Scott asked, unsure of himself.
"Yes, really. There are no wolves in California," Stilinski repeated.
"Well, if you don't believe me about the wolf, then you're definitely not going to believe me when I tell you I found the…" Scott looked at me, smiled awkwardly, and then continued with, "… the thing." As in, the disembodied hand?
"What thing?" Stilinski asked, as confused as me, before realisation dawned on his face. "Wait, are you kidding me? You found the dead body?"
"The WHAT?!" Scott winced and took a step back from me as I continued shouting at him. "You were out there looking for a dead body? Are you freaking stupid?!"
"Well, according to you…" Scott countered, suddenly looking more sure of himself.
"Oh, don't even try the guilt trip," I responded, pointing a finger at Scott as he rolled his eyes. "I almost got groused for life this morning because you and your little buddy wanted to looking for a dead body in the woods?"
"Oh, so that's why you're here," Stilinski interrupted, nodding his head slowly as he looked between Scott and I. "For a second there, I thought you'd hit your head and forgotten that we're not actually friends."
"Oh, yeah, you're right, Stilinski. It's not just daylight that I can't see when I'm this far up my own ass; it's who I'm talking to, too. My bad."
Stilisnki was about to reply, with an incredibly sarcastic remark, if his expression was anything to go by, but he was interrupted by someone clearing their throat behind me. The change in Stilinski's face told me exactly who it was. I turned to confirm that thought and found Lydia and Jessica, arm in arm, looking from me to the two boys behind me in confusion and a little bit of surprise.
"Amber, are you done talking to…" Lydia trailed off, thinking. I didn't let her finish pretending to remember their names.
"Yeah, I'm d-"
"Hey Lydia, how are you? You look-" Lydia didn't even grace Stilinski with a look before she turned on her heel, dragging me along with her free hand in mine. I didn't hear how Stilinski finished that sentence, but I did hear something about being 'Scarlet-nerded' by Scott. I don't think that's his problem.
I said goodbye to Lydia and Jessica as we got to the door of my English class, my first period of the day. I took a seat in the last row, as the class started to fill up. Scott and Stilinski soon came through the door, shortly followed by our teacher, and they took seats in the row in front of me as he started talking.
"As you all know by now, there was indeed a body found in the woods last night." I turned sharply in my seat and glared at Scott, who shrank a little in his seat. "I'm sure your eager little minds are coming up with all sorts of macabre scenarios as to how it happened, but I've been told that the police have a suspect in custody." The teacher started to shuffle the papers on his desk, picking out a few from the rest. "A vagrant with a long history of psychiatric disorders was discovered camping out in the woods near where the body was found. Which means…" he held up the pieces of paper he had singled out to show the class. "…your undivided attention can be given to the syllabus outlining the semester on your desks. Read it now. And by read, I don't mean skim."
The room filled with the sound of people flicking through the syllabuses, but other than that was pretty silent as the teacher began writing on the blackboard. Out of the corner of my eye, I could see Scott's heard whipping around to look about the classroom. I sent him a questioning look, and he just shook his head, wincing and then staring out of the window, lost in his own world.
I shook my head at the boy and continued to read the syllabus, trying my hardest to ignore his weird behaviour as he continued to look around the room, head cocked to the side like a confused puppy.
The door to the classroom opened then, and the principal walked in, followed shortly by a pretty brunette that I hadn't seen before, and addressed the class.
"Class, this is our new student, Allison Argent. Please do your best to make her feel welcome." The teacher gestured for Allison to take the seat on my left, the only open one remaining. She walked through the desks, Scott's gaze following her the entire time, and when she was settled in her seat he turned around in his own, and held out a pen. A pen. That's it, no 'hello, welcome to Beacon Hills', or 'let me know if you need anything'. Just a pen and a smile.
The weirdest thing was, however, that it seemed to work.
Allison smiled, a little confused but smiling all the same. "Thanks," she said, cocking an eyebrow. Scott smiled back, that little puppy dog smile, and turned to face the front again. Allison continued to gaze at the back of Scott's head, still smiling, and I could tell from my seat that Scott was pretty pleased with himself.
Allison turned to me, her smile smaller and more private than before, and blushed when I cocked an eyebrow and gestured between the two of them.
Our teacher started speaking again before I could say anything to the new girl. "Okay, let's begin with Kafka."
"So, you're here all of one day and you've already got someone's eye on you."
I leant against the locker next to Allison's as she swapped her books out, closing the locker with a gentle push. She blushed and ducked her head at my comment, turning to rest her shoulder against her locker and casting a quick glance across the corridor, where Scott, Stilinski and some girl I didn't recognise were talking. Well, two of them were talking, the lovestruck puppy was staring right back at Allison.
"I don't know what you're talking about," she responded, looking back to me with a small smile and her dimples showing. "Not that I'm opposed to pretty eyes on me." I giggled at Allison's comment, and the cheeky grin on her face, and she stood up straight and stuck her hand out between us. "I'm Allison. But you already knew that." I smiled again as she huffed at herself, reaching out to shake her hand.
"Amber. Amber Wilson." I looked over her shoulder and saw Lydia striding towards us, pouting and locked on Allison's frame. "And that," I said, gesturing at the oncoming storm, "is Lydia Martin." Allison turned her head, throwing a bright smile at Scott as she did so, just as Lydia stopped in between the two of us. She plucked at the shoulder of Allison's jacket.
"That jacket is absolutely killer. Where'd you get it?"
"My mom was a buyer for a boutique back in San Francisco," Allison replied, a little taken aback.
Lydia smiled. "And you are my new best friend." I cleared my throat, pointedly, and Lydia rolled her eyes. "Please, we both know Jackson's your best friend. It's not something that I cry myself to sleep about, but I really do need my own best friend." Lydia turned her attention back to Allison, her smile almost predatory. "And you fit the bill just perfectly." Allison smiled shyly, just as Jackson showed up, throwing an arm around Lydia's shoulder and leaning down for a (rather inappropriately affectionate) kiss.
"So," Lydia said, finally separating her mouth from Jackson's. "This weekend, there's a party."
"A party?" Allison asked, unsure.
"Yeah, Friday night." I supplied. "You should come."
"Uh, I can't." Allison responded, shaking her head. "It's family night on Friday."
"You sure?" Jackson asked. "Everyone's going after the scrimmage."
"You mean like football?" Oh, god.
Jackson scoffed. "Football is a joke at Beacon. The sport here is lacrosse. We've won the state championship for the last three years-"
"Because of a certain team captain." Lydia cut in, a proud smile on her face. I could barely contain my eye roll.
"We practice in a few minutes. If you don't have anything else to do…"
"Well," I could tell Allison was overwhelmed, and was about to cut in to help when Lydia decided for her.
"Perfect. You're coming." I smiled in a 'it's your own fault, you should've gotten out quicker' manner, and Lydia grabbed Allison's sleeve. "Come on, girls. Let's go get some good seats."
We made our way up the bleachers, wrapped up in out coats to ward of the January chill. There was a lot of noise coming from the field, the boys chatting amongst themselves and warming up for practice. Coach blew his whistle, gathering the team together for a before-practice pep talk, or whatever. I saw Josh on the field, bouncing on the balls of his feet in excitement; it was his first try-out, being a freshman, and this was all he had been able to talk about since before Christmas. I also didn't miss Melanie as she made her way up the bleachers, giving shy wave to Josh when he caught her eye, and sitting down a few rows below us. Josh looked up at me after beaming back at Melanie, and Lydia and I gave him a thumbs-up before Coach started yelling. Again.
"McCall!" The wind blew the rest of the sentence away, but Scott alkyd over to Coach looking a little lost.
"Who's he?" Allison asked.
"I'm not sure who he is. Why?" Lydia answered.
"He's in my English class." Allison tried to shrug it off, like she wasn't completely obvious. I noticed Scott look over towards us - or towards Allison, let's be honest - like he'd heard Allison striking up an 'innocent' conversation about him.
"That's Scott McCall." The whistle blew, and Scott's hands flew to cover his ears. Weird. "I don't know much about him, other than he's not-" The ball hurtled towards Scott's head, bouncing off his helmet and knocking him back a little. "-ooh. Not great at lacrosse, but he's sweet as pie and cuter than a button, I reckon."
Scott must have decided that that was the best moment to up his game. He made some impressive moves, stopping shots I never would've thought he would've been able to stop, not after spending so much time on the bench.
"He seems pretty good, actually." Allison looked at me, a small, almost proud smile on her face.
"Yeah, he is…" I couldn't tell if Lydia was impressed or annoyed at the benchwarmer's skills.
Oh, God, I thought, as I saw Jackson make his way towards the goal, his face set in anger and determination. Don't embarrass him too bad, Sonny.
Or, you know, get embarrassed yourself when Scott turns around and he stops it with all of no effort.
I'm glad Stilinski chose that moment to start screaming about Scott being his friend, because no one could hear Jackson's expletives.
I was making my way from the front door to my car when I heard the howling.
It was a little before half four, and my shift at Beacon's Ballads, the local music store, started at five, so it wasn't like I was going to be late if I took a bit of a detour to find out why there was howling coming from a little while behind the house. I made my way around the house, hearing the following, very non-wolflike, laughter die down a little as I walked, and my heart rate died down with it, back to a semi-normal rate.
"It's not funny!" I recognised Scott's voice and rolled my eyes. What in God's name was he doing back here? "There's something seriously wrong with me?"
"I know; you're a werewolf!" Stilinski laughed, and as I got closer I saw Scott giving him a not-so-impressed look. "Okay, obviously I'm kidding. But if you see me trying to melt all the silver I can find, it's because Friday is the full moon." Scott just rolled his eyes, then started to look for something on the ground, catching sight of me along the way. He stood up straight, scratching the back of his head.
"Am I on your land again?" He smiled, kind of sheepishly, and I just knew Allison was a goner.
I held up my thumb and forefinger a little while apart in response to his question, then folded my arms and jutted my hip out, but I smiled a little back, to show I was joking. Stilinski turned around to see who Scott was talking to, and scoffed, rolling his eyes. I ignored him. "Not quite. Y'all still looking for your inhaler?" I asked, pretty much already knowing the answer. He nodded.
"I could have sworn it was here. I saw the body-"
"Urgh."
"-the stags running…I dropped my inhaler." Scott continued looking for his inhaler, looking almost disappointed, so I moved closer, figuring I could spare a few minutes to help him find it. Stilinski started looking around the forest floor too.
"Maybe the killer moved the body," Stilinski suggested.
"Can we please stop talking about the body?"
"If he did move…" Scott looked up at me, and winced. "…it, I hope he didn't take my inhaler. Those things cost, like, eighty bucks."
I turned around, eyes trained on the floor, and, instead of finding an inhaler, I found a pair of shoes moving closer to us. Stilinski must have seen it too, because he shoved at Scott's shoulder, getting him to stand up.
"What are you doing here? This is private property." Rude. The man, young, dark haired and, well, hot, stood a number of feet from us, but I could still feel the anger rolling off of him. Scott moved just the smallest amount, turning his body so his shoulder came between the guy and me. The guy definitely caught that.
"Sorry, man." Stilinski replied. "We didn't know."
"Yeah, we were just…" Scott couldn't look away from the guy. "Looking for something… Forget it." I shoved at Scott's shoulder a little, trying to push past it.
"His inhaler. We were looking for-" The guy cut me off with a flick of his arm, thrown something at Scott, who caught it without trouble. He opened his palm to see an inhaler.
"Stay on your own property," the guy directed at me. With that, he turned on his heel and stalked back to wherever he'd come from. Rudeville, apparently.
"Dude, do you know who that is?" Stilinski asked Scott, excited. Scott frowned, shaking his head. "That was Derek Hale. You remember, right? He's just a few years older than us."
"Remember what?" Scott asked, seeing my confusion in addition to his own.
"His family. They all died in a house fire, like, ten years ago."
Scott frowned. "I wonder what he's doing back."
I shrugged. "Maybe he just missed home, but it's not like it's any of our business." I checked my watch, seeing I had just enough time to get to work before my shift started. "I need to get to work."
"You work?" Stilinski asked. His frown suggested that was the last thing he was expecting.
"Yeah. It's kind of a common thing among people these days."
"There's no need for the sarcasm, Wilson."
"That coming from the king of unnecessary sarcastic remarks, Stilinski."
"I just didn't expect you be the type to work when I'm sure Daddy can get you whatever you what."
I raised an eyebrow, for once too shocked to reply. So, instead, I just shook my head and turned around, heading back towards my car. "I don't have time for this." I threw an added "And get off my land!" over my shoulder as I walked.
"I swear, the dude is on something."
Jackson and I were sat on the bleachers during our gym period together, and he just couldn't take his eyes off of McCall. If I didn't know him any better, I'd say he were in love.
"Jackson, he's not on anything. He just got good over winter break."
"You don't just 'get good' over winter break, Amber. To get that good, it either takes months, years of practice, or some enhancing." He shook his head as Scott caught a ball from Danny, and threw it right back at him. I'll admit, it was a little weird; no one ever beat Danny in dodgeball. "My bet is on the latter."
"Jackson…"
"No, I'm serious. He's even been acting really weird." I heard Allison laugh at something Lydia said as she caught a ball from another player, Lydia doing the same shortly after, and calling the both of us back into the game. Scott cocked his head, his mouth open and brow furrowed in concentration, like he was listening to something, even though no one was talking to him. "See what I mean?"
"I do, but that doesn't mean he's on drugs, Jackson."
"Mm. I'll just have to have a little chat with him and find out for myself."
"Urgh. Sure thing, Sonny."
"Don't call-" I caught a ball thrown in my direction.
"Oh, Danny boy. Get your ass back in the game and sort your best friend out."
"He's your best friend too," Danny replied as he jogged his way over. "I get responsibility of him in lacrosse, can't you get him in gym?"
"Danny, I try my best. But sometimes, I just can't get through to him."
"When can anyone?" Danny said, patting my shoulder.
Okay, so…
Maybe Jackson had a point.
I know, I know! But Scott was ridiculously good during the scrimmage. He was terrible before Christmas, unfit, uncoordinated and suffering from asthma. It's understandable to start question how he got so good so quickly, good enough, in fact, to make first line. It was suspicious, that's all. I'm not saying that drugs were involved, just that it's a theory that has potential. That's all.
But that's not important right now.
What's important is that Lydia had me precariously dangling over the pool on a ladder that she was supposed to be holding steady.
"For the love of God. Lydia!" She looked up from expecting the nails on one hand, the other wrapped lazily around one of the legs of the ladder. "Would you please stop acting like a complete ditz and hold this steady so that I don't fall to my untimely death."
"Right." Lydia pouted, holding the ladder with both hands now, tilting her head as she examined my handiwork.
"I swear to God, Lyds, if you criticise those lights-"
"I was just going to say that they look really pretty. You did a great job." She smiled, fluttering her eyelashes.
"Those are some good schmoozing skills right there, Miss Martin. Your mother taught you well." I heard Lydia laugh quietly as I finished the lights, making my way back down the ladder.
"Thank you, by the way," Lydia said quietly. She's not great with heights.
"Anytime." I swung an arm around Lydia's shoulders, leading her back into the house. "Just remember that Benny wants in on the next party, since he's covering my shift tonight."
"I know, just remind me before hand so Jackson doesn't throw him out or something. You know how he gets with seniors."
"So jealous, that boy."
"Come on, I want you to do my hair while I sort out my nails. They're a total mess."
The party was in full swing by the time we came back downstairs.
We'd heard people arriving from upstairs, the house slowly getting louder and louder as more people showed up. Lydia had decided it was finally acceptable for the hostess to attend her own party, and we left her room and made our way into the still-growing crowd downstairs.
It wasn't long before I saw Allison in the crowd, dancing with Scott. She had mentioned a few days ago that he had asked her, and that 'family night' was a total lie, because she hadn't wanted to attend a party with a load of classmates she didn't know without a close friend. Or date, apparently. She had told me the whole romantic story, of how she'd hit a dog with her car, freaked out and taken her to the vet clinic, only to find that Scott worked there. He'd calmed her down, helped the dog and then just asked her out, like it wasn't even a big deal. Even though I'm pretty sure the only actual conversation they'd had before then consisted of Scott giving her a pen and the lone word 'thanks'.
Maybe Allison was Scott's 'enhancement'.
No, never mind. That's just weird.
I was grabbing a drink and chatting to Danny and Greenberg about the new first line, which, I am incredibly proud to announce my brother made, when I saw Scott rush past us, closely followed by a startled Allison. I excused myself from the conversation and ran after the girl, catching up with her as she slowed to a stop in the drive. I watched over her shoulder as the tyres of Scott's car squealed against the tarmac, before the car shot off down the road. The wind rushed past me as Stilinski sprinted to his Jeep and followed Scott.
Allison hadn't moved from where she'd seen her date leave her stranded.
A/N: And there it is. The start of a new tale for the character we all just love to hate and then hate a little less. Maybe. In my case, anyway. And, you know, the other character. Who's perspective this is from. The story's main character. But whatever. And, hopefully, this story will be just that much happier. Hopefully.
I don't really know what's happening here, I'm kinda running with this as it goes along. I'm slowly making my way through the first season (with short notes on the second and third seasons) as to how Amber will be fitting in with the local goings-on, so I have a basic idea of how this is going to turn out, but most of it is just seeing where the Wilsons take me, if I'm honest. In case you guys couldn't tell, the Wilsons are from the South, so I'm trying to incorporate a little Southern dialect into the dialogue and whatever, so for any Southerners out there, if something comes across as offensive or something, I don't mean it, and I'm very open to suggestions or help with the language the Wilsons use.
Also, the dialogue may be a little off, because I'm using scripts off the internet, but they should be about on track, and it might have changed with Amber in the conversation as well anyway, so… Yeah. And I used some scenes that the pilot script I found online used, but that weren't in the actual episode, so I'll put the link to that on my profile and all credit there goes to the writers and whatnot.
Another also! I was a bit iffy with the name, it was a last minute, 'I nee to call it something' type deal, so if that one is a bit terrible (or depressing, let's face it) and you don't like it, any suggestions until I figure one out to fit the story would be a great help, thank you!
Anyway, I hope you guys enjoyed it and plan to stick around for a little while longer.
P.S. I got very, very sad when writing Allison. It's her first scenes, and I couldn't help thinking of her last, and I got a little choked up. Just saying.
