"Let's see if two heads or indeed, better than one. Or in Mr. Stilinski's – less than one…" Mr. Harris continued with his bitter rant and daily attack on Stiles Stilinski. I wondered what he did to make him hate him so much – or was it possible to just simply hate a person. I had to believe so. With the way my brother treated me – there was no other option. As if I had asked myself to be born… I hadn't, it just - happened. If I had in fact asked myself to be born, I would have thrown some good looks like Lydia Martin's or Allison Argent's. Maybe even Erica. Only Lord knows what beauty shop she went to that weekend. One day she just came to school and – bam! I lost my table buddy. Now I sit alone, with no one to distract me from the haunting nights before…

"So how was school today," he would ask in his raspy voice. It scared me – whenever he spoke. As if ever word that came out of his mouth was another smack to the face.

"Good," I muttered. I didn't say anything else. I didn't want to. Every conversation ended in a fight. And I would always lose.

He chuckled his crude chuckle. I tightened the grip on my fork. "Just good? I don't bust my ass at the auto-shop for just good. What are your grades like?" he asked.

I bit my lip. I was doing well in everything – except French – and English – and Trig. "Good," I whispered unsure of what else to say. Slowly, I closed my eyes mortified, my grip on my fork grew stronger – afraid I would soon have to use for my than just an instrument for food.

"Good," he scoffed. "Is that the only word they teach you in that school?!" he barked. I jumped. When he saw this he laughed. "No need to be scared Kate. I was just wondering. Can't a guy worry about his dear baby sister in piece?" He snickered again, but it fell short. Steadily I could see the grip on his plate tighten. "I mean, can't a guy worry about a dear family member in piece?!" he shouted. I dropped my gaze to my plate and started to gnaw on the inside of my lip nervously.

"Yes," I whispered. I could literally hear my heart beating in my ears and my breathing grew unsteady.

"Alright," he stated. Darren took a deep breath. I started to relax as well, my grip loosened on my fork. "So how about you get me another beer?" he asked with a sigh.

I froze. My heart started to pound. How do I say no? I wondered. How do I tell him that I didn't feel like being beaten on tonight just because of his drunk ass?

When he heard no response Darren grew angry. "I said, how about another beer," he repeated, the irritation clear in his voice.

"I heard you," I murmured. I started to scrape my fork against my plate. My voice was clearly shaking as I began to stammer out, "You – you already had three…" I muttered.

Silence.

That was all I heard at first. Did he already go to get one himself? I wondered.

I looked up.

But he was there, with that look in his eyes. The look of bewilderment and a hint of aggravation whenever I denied him. "What?" he snorted. Immediately, my eyes dropped.

"I'm – I'm just saying. You have – work – you – you probably shouldn't be drinking that much."

"Well, I don't think that's any of you damn business whether I should be drinking or not," he proclaimed.

A lump rose in my throat, my heart was still beating incredibly fast and I could feel sweat beginning to formulate on the top of my forehead. Slowly I began, "It's just – when you drink, you…"

"I what?" he snarled. My hands grew moist around my fork and it felt as if I was having difficulty breathing. It's coming, I thought. He's going to explode…

"You – you get a little… aggressive…" I finally got out. I looked at Darren. He sat there as he thought about what I said. A state of befuddlement wiped clearly across his face. Finally, he nodded and slanted back in his seat.

"Aggressive huh?" he murmured. I kept gaping at him. Awaiting his reaction. "Aggressive," he repeated again. I found myself starting to straighten, as if I was about to make a run for the door. "Aggressive, you say – I'm - aggressive." He looked at me. His knife-like green eye piercing right at me. Bit by bit I nodded.

"You think I'm aggressive. Huh, 'cause I wouldn't call it that. I'd call it – after 15 hours of working under a truck, dumbasses yelling in my ear constantly, paychecks under minimum wage and the literally weight of 2,000 pounds on top of you – I'd call it coming home and wanting a damn beer! And not having my prick of a little sister giving me shit about it! That's what I'll call it!" he hollered. My body began to stiff from the base in his voice. It was different this time. He was different. There was an edge to his tone I've never heard before. I wanted to apologize, to take it all back. I just – I didn't know how. Besides, it seemed as if it was too late for that now.

"I'm – I'm sorry, you're right…" I began. Darren stopped his outburst.

"You're sorry?" he grunted. He paused for a second more before starting again. "Nah, I don't think you're sorry Kate. I think don't you know what it means to be sorry and disrespect the person the puts food on the table for you. Every. Night." The impatience in his voice grew more and more unstable. I looked up to see if his expression matched the madness in his voice. "I think - I'm going to need to teach you, what it means to truly be sorry," he said. His green eyes had lost all humanity in them now.

Instantaneously, I ran for the door. But he was right there. Already behind me. And grabbing me by my hair. I let out a horrid scream from the pain as the hairs on my head were literally almost being pulled out of my scalp…

I looked down at my forearm which now bared black and blue marks. Right now it was covered by the overbearing sweatshirt Darren threw at me this morning. "It was a softball accident, yes?" he asked. His green eyes predatory. Quickly, I nodded. "Yes," I answered.

I sighed. I should have just gotten him that beer…

"Kate?" I suddenly heard. I jumped. It was Isaac Lahey - and he was sitting next to me. I looked around. Oh, we were in labs. Right, that whole crystal thing, I suddenly remembered. I looked back to Isaac.

Talking about transformations... Like Erica, Isaac gone under a little on himself. The once mysterious, kind of cute guy was now the mysterious super hot guy. And he was looking right at me - with those crystal blue eyes. Quickly, I looked away.

"Right," I whispered and picked up a random chemical on the table. Just as I did so the sleeve of my sweatshirt retrieved exposing the sinister scars I had received just the night before. Every nerve in my body tightened as my eyes just about busted out of my head. I could feel Isaac's eyes on me. I cleared my throat; afraid my voice would squeak as it usually did when I lied. "Softball incident," I whispered, but he kept his stare on my arm and then he turned to me. Ashamed, I fixed my sleeve and put the chemical down. I turned to Isaac, whose blue eyes hadn't left their gaze on me. I grew fidgety, as I always did when someone would stare at me for so long. Darren would usually get mad at me and the go on to smack me around and ask why I couldn't be like those other confident girls.

But no matter how clear I made my discomfort, Isaac kept his alarmed crystal eyes on me. Until, abruptly he looked back at Erica.

I turned back to her too. Her hazel eyes glowing with anticipation as they edged toward Lydia Martin's table. Confused, I turned to back to Isaac. His facial expression was glowing as well. I furrowed my eyebrows. What was going on between those two?

Finally, he turned back to the table. Without hesitation, I pulled my eyes away. "I can switch," I finally spoke, keeping my eyes on the chemical I was now pouring into the cylinder.

"What?" he asked. I bit the inside of his lip. It's not that his voice scared me – ok, maybe it did. After living in a house with constant shouting, you learn to fear even the slightest sound - or move. But it wasn't my fear of his voice that was making me gnaw on the inside of my lip like a hungry animal; it was my attraction to it. Isaac's velvet yet kind of rough voice buzzed in my ear causing an automatic reaction for my heart to jump. My breath escaped from by body and I had difficulty putting together words.

"Erica," I murmured in my usual timid voice. "I can switch if you want. To be with her instead," I added. I could feel Isaac staring at me again so this time I looked up to join him. I locked eyes with his beautiful ocean-like stare. What? I wanted to say, but couldn't – I was too afraid. Afraid, he'd say "nothing" and just turn away. And I'll be caught off from his precious pearls of eyes.

Nonetheless, Isaac continued to look right into my eyes, a look of concern now in his.

"Kate," he whispered. "How did you-,"

Suddenly a bell rang. "Next!" Mr. Harris shouted. The sound caused us both to jump and we broke eye contact. Isaac's glare returned to Lydia Martin's table which was now being joined by Scott McCall. Abruptly, Isaac got up and walked away.

I watched as he walked over to the next table that was soon joined by Stiles Stilinski…

"Uh, Kate!" someone shouted. Suddenly, a warm liquid fell on me. Abruptly I got up and shouted.

"Cole!"

"Sorry!" he hollered. Thank goodness no one noticed. They were too caught up in Scott McCall's spontaneous outburst. Taking a napkin I wiped the chemical off of me. I looked to Cole whose eyes were wide with remorse. "I am so sorry Kate," he muttered. I sighed.

"It's ok," I said. It was actually nice – having a guy apologize to me for once. Last time any guy had ever done that was – never. I smiled at Cole. And he returned it. Then his eyes dropped. I followed them. Oh man, the scars.

"Whoa, did I do that?" he asked amazed. The black and blur had now turned a purplelery –red color.

Panicked, I bit my lip and quickly fixed my shirt. "Nope, just – softball."

"Oh." Cole nodded and I let out a breath of relief.

I don't know what type of chemical Cole poured on me, but it was giving me a funny feeling. My whole body was tingling. I was just about to raise my hand for the nurse when the bell rang.

Everyone hurried for the door, including me. Being pushed by a sea of random bodies, I somehow landed in Isaac's arms. His big, firm hands grabbed my arm and suddenly the tingling inside of me stopped. Instead, it was replaced by an image in my head.

Of Isaac.

Lying on the ground in the middle of night. His leg pouring blood. The breath escaped my body as I came to. I looked up at him, horrified. He stared at me, panic in his blue eyes. "Are you ok?" he asked.

Slowly, I nodded. But was I really? What – what was that? Isaac kept staring at me as if he was deciding to believe me or not. Suddenly he turned to Erica who was obliviously waiting in the hallway. "I have to go," he whispered and let go. I even didn't respond. I was still too stunned from what I just saw. Nevertheless he walked away and I stayed at the door scrambling my thoughts for a reasonable explanation.

But I couldn't find one.

WHAT THE HELL WAS THAT?!

For the rest of the day I couldn't get the image out of my head. At the most random times it would just appear, taking me away from whatever it was I was doing.

There Isaac was – struggling to hold his weight on his elbows, along with a leg wound so hideous you would think he needed surgery. I could barely avoid getting in an accident on my way home. What was he doing that got him that way? I thought.

When I arrived home the house was empty. Darren was working till eleven today. I went straight up to my room and lied down on my bed. There was no going away of the image now. It just remained there, frozen in my mind. And Isaac's eyes. His perfect, blue eyes – they were basically crying for help. I couldn't ignore this. As much as I wanted to – I just couldn't. Maybe it was the concern he showed for me today or maybe it was just my basic attraction to him, but I felt as if I had to find a way to help him. Whatever happened in that vision, I couldn't let come true. I looked outside my window.

It was nightfall.

Hurriedly, I got up.

I didn't know what I was thinking when I decided to simply wonder the woods looking for Isaac. I guess I wasn't. No. Scratch that. I definitely wasn't because now here I was – in the middle of the night, looking for a boy a barely knew, at a location a barely got a look at. Yet, I kept walking, hoping I would come across something. The mysterious forest continued to make its strange sounds, terrifying me with every step. Finally, I heard the snap of a twig behind me, followed by a hiss. Immediately I turned around. The hiss was then followed by growl. It sounded like some kind of… wolf. A wolf? I thought. Since when are there wolves in California?

Nonetheless, I followed the sound. Maybe this is what happened to Isaac. Attacked by an animal astray. That made sense. I walked through the thick branches until I came across a clearing.

I froze. Suddenly, the same vision as earlier appeared in my mind.

Did that mean I was in the right place?

I must have been because when I realized what it was in front of me I could hardly believe my eyes. There he was! Isaac. But he wasn't alone and he looked nowhere near like himself. He along with two other people I made out to be Scott McCall and Boyd seemed to be covered in hair. And their faces… they looked animalistic… Finally the answer popped in my mind.

Werewolves.

And as that sunk in, I didn't even have to relish in it - as there was a big, snake-like lizard thing coming right for them. It had already thrown Scott off his feet and just seconds later Boyd became oddly still before collapsing to the ground. Isaac was the only one left standing. The big lizard thing coming right at him.

I couldn't let him get hurt, so I stupidly decided to just take its attention away. "Ca -kaw!" I shouted. My voice echoed in the forest. Immediately, the lizard thing turned its head. "Ca – kaw!" I repeated and looked back at them.

The lizard thing was gone.

I sighed in satisfaction. Good. Isaac was safe.

But then I realized. The lizard thing is gone. And probably looking for whatever made the sound.

Which was me.

Panicked, I made a run for it. To my luck, I ended up in the middle a street quickly, just avoiding a car that was driving down the road.

By the time I got home, I was able to sneak to up to my room without waking Darren. It seemed as if he had knocked himself out with alcohol again.

Back in my bed, I reflected back on my day. And only two words came to mind.

Holy.

Shit.

The next morning at my locker I spotted Isaac. We locked eyes for a second before I so shyly looked away. Then, in a swift second, he was beside me. I jumped.

"Oh my – goodness," I gasped. I looked up at him. Isaac's big blue eyes were still glistening with concern.

"How's your arm," he asked in his kind, velvet voice. I bit my lip nervously.

"Fine," I murmured. Isaac nodded and cracked a feeble grin.

"Good," he whispered. I don't why, but my heart started pounding. So hard, I thought it was about to burst. Why did he have to be so good-looking? And sweet. Why did he have to be so dating-worthy? Not that he would ever go out with me…

Isaac opened his mouth as if he was about to say something, but quickly closed it. I grew baffled. What would he be nervous about to ask me? Instead, he went into thought about something. "Last night," he finally said. "That was you, wasn't it?" he asked, returning eye contact to me.

I didn't know what to say. Quickly, I looked away. "That sound," he continued. "It was you…"

Finally, I was able to look back at him. My heart pounding. Inch by inch, I nodded. Just like a lit candle, Isaac's eyes brightened. "How?" he asked.

I looked down at my bruised arm, then back up at him. "I'll keep your secret if you keep mine," I said.