A/N: Hi everyone, welcome to my first ever fanfiction, I hope you enjoy it :)

All rights are to their respective owners


"What?"

"Hey!" the voice was loud and excited. I withdrew the phone from my ear a little, wincing. "I just saw my dad leave!"

I made a face at the ceiling. I was just about to slip into a deep slumber, but of course, he had to go and ruin that. Typical. "Stiles," I sighed, in a warning tone, sitting up in my bed and looking in the direction of my window. "If you're going to try and get me into your room and make a move on me again, this conversation is ending in three, two, o-"

"One, I was wasted, that night." he interrupted, with evident embarrassment in his tone. "And two, I thought I told you never to speak of that ever again? Ever!"

"Then, what is it?" I sighed, although I was grinning. I loved messing him up.

"I just saw my dad leave." he repeated slowly, sounding excited. "And, he left with every officer from the Beacon Hills department and state police!"

"State police?" I said with interest, immediately getting out of bed, and rubbing my bleary, tired eyes with my other hand. "Why?"

I went over to look at myself in the mirror. I was wearing my over-sized Spider-man t-shirt with some black shorts. My medium-length black hair had been pulled into a messy bun, with bits of hair fraying out. I sighed, looking at my appearance. My chocolate brown eyes, which were big and round and framed with long dark eyelashes, were looking quite annoyed at the moment.

"Two joggers found a body in the woods, but here's the best bit…they only have half!" he exclaimed smugly. I could practically see his smirk in my head. After all, I knew his face better than my own.

My eyes grew wide as I turned my head to look back at the window. "Half a body?"

"Are you coming or not?" Stiles snapped restlessly as I went over to the other side of my room and knelt on the upholstered window seat.

I opened my window to look across to the other house, sighing as I did so. "Do you know what time it is, Stiles? No, of course you don't."

Stiles was looking back at me with an eager expression, already dressed in a blue Beetles t-shirt, white plaid shirt, his grey hoodie and his jacket, holding a torchlight. He shone it in my face. "Come on, Alia! It'll be awesome!"

I put my hand in front of my face, squinting slightly as the light flashed between my fingers, but I gave in. "Fine, fine, just cut it out! I'll be down in a sec. Jesus Christ…"

Five or so minutes later, after pulling on the nearest pair of jeans, shrugging on a red, blue and white plaid shirt over my Spider-man top and a brown hooded collar zipper, and slipping my feet into some old converses, I had crept out of the house, and was walking down the steps to meet Stiles at his Jeep. I had propped up a few pillows on my bed and covered it with my duvet, just in case Dad happened to walk in, even though he probably wouldn't – he was still watching the game. I had hastily brushed my hair into a high ponytail, but bits of short hair were already starting to fall out.

"Scott isn't answering his phone," Stiles muttered, staring down at his phone with an annoyed scowl. He looked up at me as I approached, and gave an appreciative nod as he took in my appearance. "Spider-man, I approve."

"He never answers his phone; you should know this by now." I rolled my eyes, ignoring his compliment as I wrenched open the Jeep door. "What are you going to do if your dad catches you?" I asked as he and I got into the front seats of the blue vehicle and closed each of our doors simultaneously.

"That's what you're for," he said, buckling himself in and turning to me, with a mischievous expression. "He always calms down when you're around. I won't get in as much trouble if you're there."

I stared at him. "You're an idiot." Stiles grinned at me sheepishly while I shook my head, trying not to smile back. "Alright, so tell me everything you heard on the portable."


He pulled up at Scott's house and got out. "You coming or what?"

"Nah," I yawned, getting out my phone, and propping my feet up on the dashboard. "You get him."

"God, couldn't you try and be just a little enthusiastic about this?" he said, shaking his head at me. I shrugged, still looking at my phone, and he got out, probably rolling his big maple eyes. "And feet off! How many times?"

I rolled my eyes, and reluctantly took my feet off the dashboard, but as soon as he had disappeared behind the trees, I put them back on, smiling to myself.

It was a few minutes, as I was scrolling through Tumblr, before I heard shouts from the house. I snapped my head up in fear, looking around, and got out of the car, running to the front of Scott's house to find Stiles hanging from the porch ceiling and Scott, poised with a baseball bat and a terrified expression beginning to show signs of immense relief as he realised that he was staring at his goofy best friend.

"What the heck is going on?" I exclaimed angrily, flailing my arms about. "You scared the hell out of me!" I then frowned at the bat in his hand. "I didn't know you played baseball."

"Scott thought I was a predator," Stiles said, rolling his eyes at me, hopping down and standing upright.

"Nope, just a blabbering idiot," I corrected him. Stiles threw a scowl at me but I ignored this and turned to Scott. "Anyway, it's your fault for not answering your phone."

Scott frowned at the two of us indignantly. "What are you guys doing here anyway?"

Stiles and I looked at each other before Stiles answered. "Look, I know it's late, but you gotta hear this. I saw my dad leave twenty minutes ago. Dispatch called, they're bringing in every officer from the Beacon department and even state police!"

"For what?"

"Two joggers found a body in the woods." He said smugly.

"A dead body?" Scott said, disbelievingly with wide eyes.

"No, a body of water," Stiles sighed, his voice dripping with sarcasm. "Yes, dumb ass! A dead body," He scrambled over the fence on to the McCall's porch, landing like some sort of gymnast with imperfect form, smiling from ear to ear.

"You mean like a murder?" Scott asked in a hushed voice.

"Nobody knows yet." Stiles said, looking at Scott and me. "Just that it was a girl, probably in her twenties,"

"Hold on," Scott cut in, looking at us in confusion. "If they found the body, then what are they looking for?"

I grinned, tilting my head to the side. "It's interesting that you say that, Scotty."

Stiles' face mirrored mine. "They only found half..." Stiles' voice was getting excited again. Scott's eyes widened just as mine had. "We're going."

Scott made an apologetic face. "Ahh…dude, I don't-"

I folded my arms as I cut him off. "Scott, don't even bother," I said sternly. "You know it's not going to work. This is Stiles we're talking about."

Scott looked at me, and then at Stiles, who was practically jumping up and down like a child. He sighed with a sort of grim finality. "Yeah, you're right,"

"Yes!" Stiles punched the air with triumph, and sprinted back to the Jeep, with Scott and me trudging behind.

"Just saying, this wasn't my idea," I muttered to Scott once he joined me and we started walking in step towards the Jeep.

"I figured," he grinned down at me. "But only Stiles would be able to convince you to come with."

I rolled my eyes and nodded. "Yeah, well…" I sighed, as we both approached the vehicle, where Stiles was impatiently waiting for us with the door open, practically jumping up and down with excitement. "I wasn't gonna let you two asses go looking for a body in the woods in the middle of the night."

"Bullshit," Scott scoffed with a wide grin on his face. "You wanted in on the adventure."

I glared at him. "Watch your mouth, McCall," I warned him. "Do you want me to give you one of my Chinese burns again?"

His eyes widened and he gulped a bit. "No. Nope, I'm good."

I smirked at him and then nudged him. "Kidding!"

He sighed, shaking his head at me, though he looked relieved. "Seriously, Lia?!" he moaned. "Don't do that!"

I held my hands up. "Okay, okay," I shrugged. "No more threatening. Though I can't make any promises for tomorrow." I winked at him. He rolled his eyes, but he was grinning.

"Finally!" Stiles exclaimed as we reached him. The excited expression on his face had subsided a little, and he was looking between us suspiciously. "Could you be any slower?"

"Could you be any more like Chandler?" I retorted, just as raindrops started to fall around us. "Aaaaand it's raining." I muttered as I climbed into the backseat. "Typical."

This is how it had always been with the three of us; Stiles was the sarcastic, spastic, slightly eccentric troublemaker, while Scott was timid, kind, all-around, unequivocally good guy, and I, the logical, shy, a little pessimistic at times tomboy. But I guess we balanced each other out that way. If I hadn't moved from England to Beacon Hills when I was seven, those two would never have survived.


"Are we seriously doing this?" Scott asked, slamming the door after me as we got out of the Jeep outside the entrance to the preserve. He pulled his red American Eagle hoodie over his head, as I dug my hands into my coat pockets, shivering.

"Funny," I sighed, watching my smoky breath leave my mouth and waft up into the cold autumn air. "That's what I keep asking myself in my head."

"Come on," Stiles said, grabbing both of us by the shoulder and pushing us along. "You're the ones that bitch that nothing ever happens in this town."

"Actually, you're always saying that." I corrected, pointing at him.

Stiles scoffed. "Same difference. Now come on," He pulled out his flashlight out of his pocket and flipped it on. Light illuminated from it, giving us a better view of where we were going. We jumped over the chain and started the long trek.

"I was trying to get a good night sleep before practice tomorrow." Scott pleaded, trailing behind.

"Right," Stiles ploughed on ahead. "'Cause sitting on the bench is such a gruelling effort."

"No, because, I'm playing this year," Scott sounded determined as he huffed out. "In fact, I'm making first line."

"Hey, that's the spirit," Stiles said, looking back at his best friend briefly as I caught up with him. "Everyone should have a dream, even a pathetically unrealistic one."

"Shut up, Stiles," I smacked him, and as he yelped and started to rub his arm up and down, I turned to Scott. "Don't listen to him, Scotty, he's an idiot. You're going to be great this year."

Scott grinned. "Thanks, Lia."

Stiles scoffed again. "Sure, he's gonna be just like Jackson, isn't he?"

I raised my eyebrows at him, though I knew he couldn't see me. "Who would want to be that syphilitic, masochistic jackass?" I asked, throwing a disgusted look to no one in particular. "Tell you what, I'll cheer you both on even if you're still on the bench."

Stiles faltered a little and he turned around, still walking backwards, without tripping over which was miraculous for him by the way, and he gave me a small half smile. "Yeah?"

I raised my eyebrows and gave a firm nod. "Promise."

He gave me a nod and turned back to the front again as Scott panted, "Just out of curiosity, which half of the body are we looking for?"

Stiles slowed down again. "Huh," he said, as the realisation hit him. "I didn't even think about that."

"And, uh," Scott said, still heavily panting. "What if whatever killed the body is still out here?"

"Also something I didn't think about." he called as we started to climb the steep slope.

I glared at his head, while simultaneously bending down to grab a twig from the forest floor, aiming right at his back. "Are you trying to get me to shit my pants?!"

"No," he snorted from ahead. "But I would definitely pay to see you shit your pants – Ow!" I smiled triumphantly as he rubbed his behind, muttering to himself. Scott snorted with a kind of nervous laughter.

"It's comforting to know that you've, planned this out with your usual attention to detail." Scott panted as we trudged up the slope. Scott and I grinned at each other.

"I know," Stiles panted ahead.

"Dumbass," I muttered.

"I heard that!"

"Good," I said a little louder. "You were supposed to."

Stiles and I continued to bicker, when Scott cut in, panting. "Hey, guys? Maybe, the, severe asthmatic should be the one holding the flash light, huh?" I turned my head to see Scott rested against a tree and pulled out his inhaler with a pained expression on his face as he took in a breath from it.

"Stiles, come on, slow down," I called to him, slowing down and turning to wait for Scott, but Stiles ran ahead. "You alright, Scotty?"

Scott nodded breathlessly. I went over to him and held out my hand which he took gratefully, as we continued to follow Stiles.

"Stiles, slow down, or I will beat the crap out of you," I called out to him, pulling Scott along. "You know I will."

Stiles groaned and reluctantly came to a standstill. Scott sniggered while I just grinned.

Scott and I caught up with him just as we heard voices up ahead. They were indistinguishable, but they were definitely voices nonetheless. Suddenly, both Scott and Stiles skid onto the floor. I looked around, but there were no better methods of disguising myself, so I reluctantly slid on to the floor next to them too. We could see the silhouettes of officers and their dogs walking amongst the tress, holding their flash lights. Stiles was so busy staring at the scene, he didn't seem to realise he was pointing his flashlight straight at it. I reached over and forcefully pointed it down at the ground. Stiles gave me a nod of thanks before turning back to officers. We stayed down, watching them curiously, when suddenly, "Come on!" Stiles got up and started running.

"Stiles!" Scott whispered loudly, taking another puff from his inhaler. He then got up, slipping slightly.

"What the-?" I gaped, as Scott followed suit. "For God's sake..." I got up and tried to follow, but then I tripped on a tree root. "Ah!" I gasped as I fell down. I gripped my ankle and looked up. "Guys! Wait!" I whispered as loudly as I could without being heard by the cops, but it was no use, they were gone. I swore as I got up and looked around and then to the direction where Scott and Stiles had disappeared. "I really need new friends," I groaned to myself and turned around ready to make my own way out of the woods, when I almost tripped on another root, but I held out a hand and grabbed onto a nearby tree, stopping myself just in time. "Bloody roots." I muttered and once I had steadied myself, I took my phone out, muttered, "Lumos," and switched on the flash, lighting up the path, and walked on, grumbling to myself.


Before I turned the key to the door, I looked to my left to see the Stilinski's empty driveway. If I had been a little less pissed off with Stiles and Scott, I would have let the little worry I felt expand, but seeing as I was pissed off, incredibly pissed off - especially with Stiles - I pushed the pang of worry away, and opened the door to the house. Anyway, I thought as I walked inside. The Sheriff probably caught them, and they're probably in the process of getting their asses grounded. I humoured myself with the image of the two of them standing in front of the Sheriff with their heads hung in shame.

It was quiet, except for the rhythmic and slow snoring from Dad in the next room. I shook my shoes off and gently tiptoed to the living room to see him fast asleep with his mouth gaping open, with beer bottles all around him, and one clutched in his hand. His hand suddenly drooped a little, and the beer bottle slipped a bit. Slowly, it began to slide out of his hand, and I quickly but quietly hurried over and caught it just before it hit the floor.

"Ninja!" I whispered to myself proudly, making a triumphant fist with my right hand. Dad grunted, stirring, and I shut up and put the bottle gently on the table. I then straightened, putting my hands on my hips and looked around the room and let out a huge sigh, blowing the stray hairs that had fallen out of my ponytail, out of my face. "Time to get to work."

I spent the next hour cleaning up the room; cleaning up any spills from the surfaces, putting any empty beer bottles and the pizza boxes from dinner earlier in the trash, dumping any leftover food in the bin or packing the good stuff away in the fridge, and finally, a wipe down of the coffee table, all while my dad slept soundly. I carried on wiping the coffee table with a cloth, and stopped at the picture of me, Dad and Mum.

We were sitting in the garden of my childhood home in London, where I was born. Dad was in a navy blue shirt, crouching over me and Mum, one hand on her shoulder, and the other on mine, looking at the two of us, grinning. My mother was in a maroon top with little paisley designs, and she was looking down at me, smiling fondly. I was tiny, and wearing a little flowery dress, with my hair brushed out and all neat and a headband in my hair, and I looked absolutely delighted.

It was taken about a year before the three of us had moved to Beacon Hills. Four years before my mother died in that horrible car explosion. I shook my head, blocking the thought out of my head, and then got up and went to the kitchen to rinse the cloth out.

I came back in and gently nudged my father gently, as I wasn't sure what sort of mood he would be in. "Dad," I said quietly. "Dad, wake up."

He grunted, waving a dismissive hand, but after another nudge he groaned. "Uhh, what?"

"Dad," I said, crouching down to sit in front of him. He opened his eyes slowly, blinking a little, to see me and the newly tidy room.

"Oh, man, I must have passed out." he groaned, trying to get up. "Thanks for cleaning up, sweetie."

"No problem," I got up and took hold of his arm to help him up and we walked out of the room and towards the stairs. "Who won the game?"

His foot stopped on the first stair. "Not sure," he grunted. "I think I passed out before the game finished."

I sniggered. "Nice one, Dad,"

He yawned and pulled his arm out of my grasp and put it over my shoulders. "I'm sorry you had to clean up after me again," he muttered, slurring slightly. "I tried. I really did."

"I know," I said quietly as we slowly went up the stairs and onto the landing. "It's okay. Just get some sleep, alright?"

We walked into his room, and I sat him down on the bed. "You good?" I asked, looking down at him.

"Yeah, kiddo, I'm good," he nodded. He looked up at me. "You think you can help me brush my teeth?"

"Really, Dad?" I said, putting a hand on my hip. He laughed, and I smiled at him. He then held out his massive arms for a hug, and I embraced him. I didn't bother wrinkling my nose at the smell of alcohol on him. I was used to it by now. "Night, Dad," I mumbled.

He kissed the top of my head. "Night sweetheart."


"Hey, where'd you go last night?" I stopped chaining up my bike to see the looming figure of Stiles over me. He was wearing a black t-shirt with a red, blue and white logo, his grey hoodie from the night before, a black blazer and jeans. He looked a little nervous, knowing that I was pissed off, and he was fiddling with the strap of his bag.

I stood up and put one hand on my hip. "You mean where did you go?" I demanded, looking at him angrily. "You two left me! Alone! In the woods! At night! Did I mention, alone!?"

Stiles shrugged. I glared at him. "Aw, come on, you survived, right?" he exclaimed. "You're fine!" He looked at me up and down, suddenly looking worried. "You are fine, right? I mean, nothing bit you or anything, did it?" He reached an arm out and put it on my shoulder gently.

"What? No, I'm fine." I sighed, shrugging his arm off while rolling my eyes. I then looked at him curiously. "What do you mean, nothing bit me? What could have bitten me?"

The familiar excited look flashed across his face and he leant in and said in a low but delighted voice, "Scott got bitten by an animal last night!"

I stared at him. "And you look like a teenage girl that's just met One Direction because…?"

"Don't worry, he's okay," he said, rolling his eyes. "It's pretty big though."

"Oh," I said sarcastically. "That's all right then. As long as it's big," I locked the chain on my bike and stood up straight, fixing him with an exasperated look. "Did your dad at least ground you?" Stiles answered me with a guilty expression. That's a no.

"He gave me a strict talking-to, does that count for anything?" Stiles asked with a crooked grin.

I scoffed, shaking my head at him as I swung my bag over my shoulder. "Remind me why you two are my best friends again?"

"Because it takes too long to make any new ones," Stiles replied almost immediately, a victorious smile spreading across his face.

I scowled at him. "Ugh. I hate you." Stiles jerked his head forward, still looking pleased with himself as I sighed heavily and turned to walk away.

"Hey!" he called after me. "Don't you want to see it? Don't you want to see how big it is? According to Scott it's pretty huge! I guarantee you'll be impressed by the size of it!"

A couple of junior girls to my right started giggling hysterically at that, and I froze, feeling my face heat up, turning around slowly to face Stiles, who stared back at me, wide-eyed, realising why they were laughing. Honestly, the people in this school. I closed my eyes in exasperation as he started to stutter looking between myself and the currently manic juniors. "Wait – no, I-I didn't-that's not what I meant-" Stiles groaned, looking up at the clear blue sky in an expression that clearly said 'why me?'. Stiles and I looked back at each other, and with a swift nod, turned around and walked in opposite directions as fast as we could.

Suddenly, I bumped into someone, and my two textbooks fell out of my hands and on to the ground. Before I could apologise, the person gasped, "Oh, my God!" The girl crouched down and picked them up, and held them out. "I am so sorry; I totally didn't mean to do that!"

"Uh, it's fine," I said, a little surprised as she handed them to me. Normally I was the one who would find myself apologising, even when it technically wasn't my fault. "It's my fault, really."

I looked at the girl as she smiled flustered, clearly embarrassed. I had never seen her before. She had long black curly hair, a pretty, heart-shaped face with high cheekbones, light brown eyes, and the most flawless pale skin I had ever seen. Apart from the fact that it was tinged slightly green. "Do you go here?" I asked her, puzzled.

"Oh, no," she said, shaking her head a little too vigorously. "Oh, but I do now."

I stared at her, getting more perplexed by the second. She sighed, grinning. "I mean, I'm new."

"Got it," I nodded. "I'm Alia Sharma. Though people call me Lia."

"Argent. Allison Argent that is, not Argent Allis…" she sighed. "Wow, I've already made a fool of myself, well done, Allison," She sighed again, but then winced. "And now, I'm talking to myself."

I laughed and held my hands up. "Don't worry, I don't judge. I do that all the time." I added in a hushed whisper. She laughed, her eyes twinkling.

"What's your first class?" I asked her, smiling.

"Uh, English, I think," she said, looking down at her schedule as she tugged on her blue scarf nervously. "…With Mr Curtis?"

"Hey, that's my first period today!" I told her, smiling. "God, that guy is such a bore. It's his voice, you know? He has such a monotonous voice, and if you sit there listening to it for five minutes, I swear you start to nod off," I frowned, thoughtfully. "He's like a real-life Professor Binns. You know minus the ghost part, and the History of Magic part, and the History part in fact seeing as he teaches-" I looked back at Allison to see her staring, open-mouthed at me. I smiled sheepishly. "You'll love English, don't worry."

She laughed. "Well, all I care about is the fact that I'll know at least one person." She said, looking very relieved. Suddenly, a phone started ringing. "Oh, sorry," she muttered, pulling out her phone and looking at the caller ID. "It's my mom – second time today."

I smiled. "Well, see you in class," I said, adjusting my maroon bag's strap on my shoulder. "I'll save you a seat."

"Thank you," she smiled gratefully. "I'll see you later."

As I walked into class, and sat in my usual seat in front of Stiles, and to the left of Scott, I noticed them both looking smugger than usual. Especially Scott. I looked at the both of them, narrowing my eyes in suspicion. "What happened?"

"I found the body," Scott whispered, looking especially proud of himself.

"What?!" I exclaimed, a little too loudly. Everybody turned to look at me. I winced and looked down at my books, mortified. I hated being the centre of attention. Once everyone had finished with their weird looks and had looked away again, I turned back to Scott expectantly. He shook his dark floppy hair out of his eyes, and opened his mouth to speak, just as Mr Curtis walked in. The three of us sighed quietly in unison.

"As you all know, there indeed was a body found in the woods last night," he started to vigorously scribble the title of the lesson on the board. Scott turned to Stiles and I. I smiled at him faintly, before turning back to the front. None of the other kids seemed to be as thrilled as us, but, to be fair to them, the moment Curtis had opened his mouth was the moment they all seemed to stop listening. "And I am sure your eager little minds are coming up with various macabre scenarios as to what happened. But I am here to tell you that the police have a suspect in custody," I frowned and craned my neck around to look at Stiles, who merely shrugged. "Which means you can give your undivided attention to the syllabus on the desks which is outlining this semester."

I looked down at the multiple pieces of paper in disgust, as everyone groaned simultaneously. It was going to be a long year. I then ripped a bit of paper out of my notebook and scribbled on it: THIS SEAT IS RESERVED. If you sit here I will personally gouge out your eyeballs, and if you're lucky and I already don't like you, scratch the whole 'gouge-out-eyeballs' thing – instead I will drip honey on your eyeballs and let loose a thousand fire ants.

I passed it to Stiles. "Put that on the desk next to you." I whispered.

He made a face, but took it curiously, and read it, raising his eyebrows as he did. He looked up at me. "Colourful."

"Thank you," I smiled sweetly. "Now put it on the desk next to you before I do the same to you."

He scoffed. "You don't scare me with your threats," I gave him a look, and he automatically put the note on the desk and turned back to me. "What's the note for?"

"We've got a new girl coming in," I said, jerking my head towards the window. "I met her outside and I promised I'd save her a seat-"

At the sound of a throat being cleared, the two of us turned to stare at the front of the classroom, where Mr Curtis was eyeing us, displeased. "Am I interrupting something, Mr Stilinski? Miss Sharma?"

"Uh, nope," Stiles answered, stammering. I turned my head slightly to see him running a hand through his buzz cut and rubbing the back of his neck. "No, no interrupting, we were-"

"We were just discussing the highly interesting syllabus you've planned for us this year." I said surprisingly confidently.

"Yep," Stiles agreed from behind me, nodding his head vigorously. "Yeah, that was-that was exactly what we were doing. Purely academic, nothing else." Don't say anything else, I thought to myself. Shut up, shut up now. But this was Stiles, so of course he overdid it. "Education is of utmost importance…don't you agree Alia?" I turned my head around slowly to look at him in disappointment as he stared awkwardly back at me.

Mr Curtis' expression was not pleased, to say the least. "If you hinder my lesson again, the two of you will be breaking the record for the shortest time I have had to give a detention to someone since the start of a school year. Do you understand?"

I turned back to the front and nodded, and by the sound of silence behind me, I assumed Stiles was nodding too. Mr Curtis turned back to the board slowly, muttering something inaudible under his breath. I sighed quietly and went back to studying the syllabus.

"Well, this looks ridiculously grim." Stiles muttered in a low voice. "I've never even heard of half these books. And he expects dissertations on every one of them? How am I going to survive?!"

"Relax," I assured him, as my eyes scanned the list. "I've read most of these, they're not that bad."

There was a pause before, "Well, that's great. I could, you know, I could use some hel-"

Just then, the door opened to reveal the Vice Principal, and right behind him, Allison. She spotted me and smiled, relief flooding her face. I smiled back, doing a little wave.

"Class, this is our new student, Allison Argent. Please do your best to make her feel welcome."

Allison cut through the gaps of the desks and I pointed to the desk behind Scott. She smiled at me gratefully and mouthed, "Thanks," I gave her a thumbs-up and she made her way to the empty seat. She saw the note, and raised her eyebrows at me, amused, and I shrugged back, grinning. I was about to turn back to the front, when my best friend caught my eye. Scott, who had a very weird expression on his face, almost as if he was giddy, immediately turned around and gave her a pen. I rose my eyebrows in surprise, as he turned back to the front looking incredibly pleased with himself. Allison was staring back at him, a curious look on her face as she stared between the pen and Scott, but a smile graced her features and she began to write. I rolled my lips in, smiling but then my attention was taken away by the groans that reverberated around the room as Mr Curtis spoke the words 'Kafka's Metamorphosis'.


After that excruciatingly mundane double English period and then two Maths periods, I caught up with Scott before lunch. "Hey, did she give the pen back?"

Scott, who was currently at his locker gathering his books for his next period, dropped his English notebook. I quickly reached out and caught it swiftly. "Whoa," I said as Scott gaped at me. "I think I really might be a ninja." Scott gave me a grin but before he could open his mouth and say anything further, I interrupted him. "Did she give you back the pen?"

"Wha-? I don't-"

"Don't be like that," I snapped as I watched him stuff his books into his bag. "I know you like her."

"Come on," he said, shaking his head. "I've known her for two periods."

"So?" I shrugged, but he didn't answer. He had a weird expression on his face. Like he was sniffing the air, but confused to why. "Are you okay?" I said slowly, tilting my head to the side as I stared at him carefully. "What did you do when you found the body? What did it look like?" Scott opened his mouth to answer but I cut him off by waving a hand. "Actually no. I don't want to know that." I paused, but then carried on, not helping myself. "What did you do when you saw it? Did it-?" I stopped at the look on Scott's face. "Sorry."

Scott just chuckled. "It was scarring," he answered me as he shut his locker door. "And I don't really want to think about what it looked like either to be honest. I didn't really have time to process it, I guess. I heard something behind me, and I started running away from it, and then I got bitten." He lifted his shirt up to show me his bandaged torso.

"Holy shit." I whispered, staring at it and then at him in worry, as he straightened his t-shirt again. "Stiles told me, but I didn't realise it was so bloody. Are you okay? What was it?"

"He says it was a wolf." Stiles said, coming up behind me, and leaning against the lockers.

"A wolf?" I asked, looking between the two of them with an unsure expression. Scott nodded. "But California doesn't have any wolves, does it?"

"Thank you," Stiles nodded, gesturing to me while he nodded vigorously. "It was probably some sort of mountain lion or coyote or something." He then made a contemplative face. "Or maybe a stray dog."

"Well, I heard a wolf howling." Scott insisted, wide-eyed.

"No, dude, you didn't." I shook my head.

"I heard it howling." Scott repeated, looking a little annoyed as he stared at the both of us.

"Dude, you didn't." Stiles sighed.

"You two don't know what I heard," Scott replied, offended, twisting the thread from his brown hoodie uncomfortably. "But I do. It was a wolf. I swear."

Stiles and I looked at him, sceptically. He sighed at the both us. "You two coming to get lunch? Its tater tots today." Before I could ask him how he could possibly know that, he turned around and walked away. I was about to turn to Stiles and ask him, when someone said my name.

"Hey, Alia-sorry, Lia?" I whipped around to see Allison. "Can I talk to you for a minute?"

"Sure," I said as Stiles stared at me, open mouthed in surprise. I went away to talk with her.

"Why was he looking so…?"

"Shocked?" I said, shrugging, looking back at him briefly over my shoulder. "No idea, he probably thinks I have no other friends."

She smiled, and then her face became slightly hopeful. "So, what do you do, you know, after school? Do you want to hang out or something?"

"Oh, well, today, I'm going to watch the try-outs," I said, shrugging again. "You can come if you want to. I'm warning you though, it is incredibly boring."

She smiled. "That's fine. I just want to make some really good friends," She laughed nervously. "I must sound so desperate to you, right?"

"No, not at all," I said, waving a dismissive hand. "Anyway, the only reason I'm going is to support my two friends," I frowned, as I looked back at Stiles, who was still gaping at me in shock. "My only two friends…who are guys," I looked back at her and grabbed her wrist. "You know what, you can definitely come."

She laughed. "Okay, I'll meet you out there."


After saying good luck to the guys, I left for the field, where I picked my seat and sat down, looking at the gradual crowd building up.

"Hey," I looked up to see Allison, and unfortunately, an unwelcome person with strawberry blonde hair – as Stiles had said to me at least two hundred and fifty times in the past eight years.

"Hi," I said, smiling, as she sat down next to me. "And, hi…Lydia,"

Lydia turned to me, as if only just realising I was there. "Hi, Lia, right?"

"Surprised you remember." I muttered, as she sat down on Allison's other side.

"Nice outfit, by the way," she piped up, leaning forwards so that I could see her. "Loving the boots," she said, pointing to them, approvingly.

I stared at her, dumbly, and then looked down at my boots. They were from Forever 21, and were a present from my friend, Heather. Along with that I was wearing black skinny jeans, a white top with a huge yellow smiley face and a black coat with a maroon beanie. I looked back at Lydia, who was smiling a wide calculating smile at me with her pink glossy lips, and a sort of expectant look in her eye. "Oh, uh, thanks." I stuttered quickly. Her smile grew even wider as she straightened in her seat. I frowned at the place where her head had been, and then slowly turned back to the field, slightly creeped out about what had just happened.

I watched as Stiles took his usual seat on the bench, and as Coach handed Scott what looked like the goalie pads, and talked at him for a few seconds, before turning around to the rest of the players on the field. "Let's go! COME ON!" he bellowed. The team began to assemble into an orderly queue and Scott made his way to the goal. I frowned, growing worried. Why is Scott in goal? He'd never played goal in his life.

"Who is that?" Allison asked us softly. I glanced over at her, to see her looking in Scott's direction, who was apparently shamelessly looking right back at her. I rolled my eyes in embarrassment for him.

"Him?" Lydia said slowly, as her gaze fell on Scott, too. "I'm not sure who he is."

"His name's Scott," I sighed angrily before I could stop myself. "Scott McCall, and Lydia, he was in our maths class the whole of freshman year."

"Oh," Lydia said, actually sounding genuinely surprised. "Right. Why do you want to know who he is?"

Allison shrugged somewhat absent-mindedly, but she was still staring at him. "He's in my English class."

"Well, that's a load of bullshit," I chirped immediately. Allison stared, stunned at me, her face growing red, and then, to my utter surprise, Lydia laughed. Actually, she giggled. I stared at her, not sure what to think about that, but then Allison turned to me, the small smile on her face faltering a little. "I saw you talking to him earlier."

She said, and I nodded. "So-so you know him?"

"Yeah," I replied with a smile. "Scott's my best friend. He's more like my brother, really." Allison perked up at that and she nodded, avoiding my eyes as I smirked at her. I looked back over to where Scott stood in goal, where he was still staring at us. I groaned internally. I hoped he wouldn't get hurt. I swear to God, if he's doing this to impress Allison, I'm gonna kick him where the sun don't shine. I'd done it many times before, due to him and Stiles pulling those stupid pranks over the years. Like the time he and Stiles replaced my shampoo with purple hair dye-

TWEET. Coach's whistle rang out. Try-outs had begun.

The first player ran forwards and shot the ball at the goal. But Scott seemed to be occupied with something else, as he started doing something that I could only describe as a very, very bad dance move. The ball hit poor Scott squarely on his helmet and he fell down backwards into the net. I closed my eyes, humiliated for him as the crowd groaned in unison, and several people started laughing, both from the stands and the fields. I heard Allison let out a pitiful sigh for the guy.

Scott got up and into position, as the second player started forwards. "Come on, Scotty," I muttered, getting ready to cover my face if anything drastic happened. The ball flew at the goal and somehow, Scott caught it as it went straight into the waiting pocket. Even Scott was surprised, as he glanced down at the ball at the end of the stick. There was moment of brief silence that passed over the field as everyone stared shocked. The only sound that could be heard was me squeaking, and Stiles' call of encouragement. "Yeah!"

The third player made his move, and amazingly, Scott saved that one too. I could hear Stiles' shout of high-pitched delight from the bench as I clapped, grinning.

Scott caught the next one, and the one after that, and the one after that. In fact, Scott caught all of them. I was staring at him, open-mouthed, pleasantly surprised and very impressed.

"He seems like he's pretty good," Allison said with a smile.

"Yeah," Lydia nodded, agreeing, watching him intently. "Very good."

"Are you kidding?" I spluttered out in delight as I continued to clap. "He's awesome!"

Suddenly, we saw Jackson push his way to the front, looking very determined. "Oh God," I breathed.

Stupid Jackson Whittemore, with his stupid hair, and his stupid Porsche, and his stupid attitude, and his overall stupid stupidness. Did I mention he was stupid? Jackson, aka Jackass, kicked off and started towards the goal. Everyone on the field was silent. I was on the edge of my seat as I gaped at what was happening. My hands tensed up, gripping the edges of my seat. Jackson sprinted towards the goal, leapt in the air, and with as much strength as he could, hurled the ball towards the goal and... Scott caught it!

I leapt up in celebration, cheering and laughed in immense relief, as Allison started laughing with me too. Lydia jumped up screaming and cheering too, to my surprise, but it wasn't enough to keep me from cheering on my best friend.

"WOOHOOO!" Stiles jumped to his feet, flailing his arms about maniacally. "That is my friend! That is my friend!"

I caught sight of Coach's face and burst out laughing even harder than I had been before. Scott grinned and suavely passed the ball to the lacrosse manager. Lydia was still cheering, and so were Stiles and I. Scott was looking he'd completed his whole bucket list, and Allison just stared at Scott like he was the first guy she had ever seen in her life. My eyes then trained in on my other best friend, who was still cheering madly from the bench, and remembered my promise from the night before.

"WOOO! Go Stiles!" I yelled, clapping my hands gleefully. Lydia and Allison turned both of their heads, shooting me highly withering and confused looks respectively, but my eyes were focused on the boy on the bench. He turned around and shot me a wide, shit-eating grin, at which I shook my head, smiling back and rolling my eyes.


"So when did you get so good at lacrosse, Scotty?" I asked after Scott slammed the door of Stiles' Jeep shut and we entered the forest yet again.

Scott laughed a little and shrugged. "I don't know; I guess all that practice over the break just paid off." He clapped Stiles appreciatively on the back.

"Hey!" I whined indignantly as I hit him on the arm. "I helped too!" I then scoffed. "And I refuse to believe that this idiot helped you get better at lacrosse when he can't score to save his life."

"Uh, I'll have you know, in case you lost your vision during practice, I scored at least two points," Stiles snapped at me. I raised an eyebrow at him. "Well, I helped score them anyway." He mumbled.

"Oh, yeah, Stilinski," I drawled out after a laugh and clapped a hand on Stiles' shoulder, making him jump. "You were a real pro out there. Real first line material." Stiles glared at me and started grumbling to himself under his breath, something about being 'unbelievable' and 'not stopping you from cheering for me', as Scott threw me an exasperated look. I shrugged and took my hand off Stiles as we carried on hiking through the woods.

"No, but seriously dude, how did you do that today?" Stiles asked him.

"I don't know what it was; it was like I had all the time in the world to catch the ball." Scott thought aloud to us as we trudged our way through the woods. Stiles jumped into the stream and held his hand out to me as per routine. I grabbed it and he helped me make my way across it.

"Well it was amazing," I said, in awe, once we were on the other side. Stiles threw me a weird look but I shrugged my shoulders at him. "What? It was."

Scott grinned at me sheepishly, but then his expression turned back to a serious one. "And that's not the only weird thing, I h-hear stuff I shouldn't be able to hear, smell things."

"Smell things?" Stiles asked, puzzled. "Like what?"

"Like the mint mojito gum in your pocket." Scott turned to him, slowing down.

"What?" Stiles said scoffing a little. "I don't even have any mint mojito-" his words died on his lips and let out a strange choking noise as I shoved my hand into his blazer pocket. Feeling something in there, I pulled it out, and there it was. Mint Mojito gum.

"O-okay," I drawled out slowly, looking at Scott as Stiles took the gum from me. "That's a little weird."

"Right?" he agreed, raising his arms a little.

Stiles looked at the piece of gum, mildly surprised, but shook it off and begun unwrapping. I pulled a face. "Oh please don't…" But he popped it into his mouth and chewed. I rolled my eyes as he grinned widely at me.

"So, all this started with the bite?" Stiles asked as we carried on.

"What if it's like an infection?" Scott asked, worried. "Like my body's flooding with adrenaline before I go into shock or something?"

"You know what; I actually think I've heard of this, it's a specific kind of infection."

"Are you serious?" Scott asked and he and I stopped walking to face Stiles, who looked back at us with a sombre expression, with his hands poised on his hips.

"Yeah, yeah," he said grimly. "I think it's called lycanthropy."

I rolled my eyes at him. The only reason I knew what lycanthropy was because Stiles and I had sat and watched 'The Wolfman' about a million times.

"What's that, is that bad?" Scott asked, alarmed, his eyebrows creasing together in worry. I rolled my lips in to keep myself from snorting.

"Oh yeah, it's the worst," Stiles said in the same grim tone, looking at him, equally serious. I turned the other way so that Scott couldn't see my face. "But only once a month."

"Once a month?" Scott said, confused.

"Hmm," Stiles nodded. "On the night of the full moon."

Scott stared at him, completely perplexed and a little frustrated, so I decided to break it to him. "Awhoooo!" I howled up to the sky, cupping my hands around my mouth. Scott pushed me into Stiles. "Hey!" I wobbled and Stiles grabbed my shoulders, steadying me as he and I started laughing.

"Hey, you're the one that heard a wolf howling." Stiles sniggered, once the laughing had died on and we continued through the woods.

"There could be something seriously wrong with me!" Scott cried frantically as he turned back to the both of us, wide-eyed.

"I know! You're a werewolf! Grrr!" Stiles growled, raising his hands and making them into claws.

"Dude, that was the single worst impression of a werewolf, ever." I said, shaking my head, appalled at him.

"Okay, how's this-" He raised his hands once again, and was about to growl, when the both of us caught sight of Scott's stony face. We both sighed. "Okay, obviously we're kidding. But if you see me in shop class trying to melt all the silver I can find, it's 'cause Friday's a full moon."

I stared at him. "How do you even know that?"

I bumped into Scott, who was looking around, confused at our surroundings. "No, I-I could've sworn this was it. I saw the body; the deer came running. I dropped my inhaler."

"Wait, deer? What deer?" I asked, looking between the two of them, lost, but neither of them answered. "Guys?" I pressed them, nudging Stiles in the shoulder slightly. "What deer?"

"He got trampled by deer," Stiles informed me, sighing. He turned back to Scott, shrugging. "Maybe the killer moved the body."

As Scott continued looking for his inhaler, I helped him too, although I felt a little hurt that I didn't know about the deer. I mean, that's a pretty life-threatening thing to happen to someone, why wouldn't he have mentioned it? I brushed the leaves aside with a small frown on my face, while Scott mumbled something about his inhaler, though I wasn't paying that much attention.

Suddenly, Stiles tapped both Scott and I on the shoulder, and the deer galloped out of my mind as we looked up to see a guy standing, staring at us. He had black hair and looked about six feet tall and was dressed all in black; from black shoes and black trousers, and even topping the blackness off with a black leather jacket.

Scott and I straightened up at once going to stand by Stiles, and three of us looked at the guy extremely awkwardly.

"What are you doing here?" the guy demanded as he started walking towards us. I had the urge to take a step back. "Huh? This is private property." He stopped as he trailed his eyes over each of us, from Stiles, to Scott, when his eyebrows furrowed further, and then to me, where his gaze lingered a bit, with something akin of confusion and interest, amongst the intense glare. I blinked at him, a little flustered.

Stiles, noticing the intense gaze, took a step forwards, stepping closer to me. "Uh, sorry man, we didn't know," Stiles said, rubbing the back of his head.

"Yeah, we were just looking for something, but – uh, forget it," Scott added a little pathetically. The guy tossed something to him and he caught it swiftly. He looked down at his fist and opened it. I looked at it, and saw that it held his inhaler. The guy gave us a sort of warning look once more, and then walked away.

"Can we go now?" I asked quietly, still staring at the place where he had disappeared.

"Yeah, come on, I gotta get to work," Scott said, before Stiles stopped him by hitting him in the chest.

"Dude, that was Derek Hale," Stiles said urgently, thumping Scott in the chest. Scott and I stared at him. "You remember right? He's only like a few years older than us."

"Remember what?" Scott and I both asked in unison, looking blank.

"His family?" Stiles insisted. "They all burned to death in a fire like ten years ago." Stiles went on.

"I wonder what he's doing back." Scott said, looking back at the same place Derek Hale has been. Stiles shrugged, scoffing, clueless.

"Who cares?" I sighed, looking at them. "He's just a creepy guy. Now can we please go?"

To my surprise, Stiles nodded, agreeing as he shoved his hands into his blazer pockets. "Yeah, come on." he said lowly, walking back towards the direction of the Jeep. I stared after him at his abrupt exit, as did Scott, but we didn't argue and set off, walking behind him.

"Why are you wearing a blazer over your hoodie?" I called to him suddenly. I didn't know why, but it seemed like he was in a bad mood all of a sudden, and I wanted to change that. Though, now that I think about it, going about it by insulting him wasn't really the best way. Plus, his choice in clothes really had been bugging me for most of the day.

"Uh, it's called fashion, Alia," Stiles drawled out with a sigh as he turned around to face me with raised eyebrows. "Isn't it supposed to be something you girls should know about?"

I made a face at him. "So you're telling me you know more about it?" I shot back as I looked at him up and down. "Where do you get your inspiration from? 'Teen Spastic?" I said, laughing a bit at my own joke.

"Yeah?" Stiles snapping back. He looked me up and down a few times, as if struggling to find a counter. I smirked, which only infuriated him more. "And where did you get that-that beanie, huh? The thrift store?"

"Could you two please hurry up?" Scott snapped at us. Stiles and I tore our eyes away from each other to Scott, who had somehow walked ahead of us, and had stopped in the distance, waiting for us with an incredibly impatient and annoyed look on his face. There was a little bit of confusion there too, as he glanced between us, as if trying to work something out. "I need to get to work."