Senior year. Stiles Stilinski and Scott McCall were excited, all smiles as they piled into Stiles' Jeep on that first day. It was the first day that the two of them would actually be in school together since before they became step-brothers. The two schools were merging together that year, something about funding or lack of teachers (Stiles did not really pay attention; all that mattered was he and Scott were in school together again). "It'll be like old times, only... no recess," Stiles said with a grin and a chuckle as he turned onto the two-lane road that led straight up to the school parking lot.
"It'll be better, though!" Scott insisted with a nod as he practically bounced in the passenger seat, grinning over at his best friend. "It's senior year, man."
"Did they tell you we have to share lockers?" Stiles pulled a face at the idea as he pulled into his usual parking space. Scott seemed slightly confused and Stiles shrugged before explaining, "We don't have enough lockers for everyone. We barely had enough before the schools merged. So, now we have to share."
"Oh! Yeah, that makes sense. D'you know who your locker partner is? Is it me? I hope it's me."
Stiles chuckled at Scott's energetic rambling (maybe sugary cereal and coffee was a bad idea) that was typically more common in himself than his step-brother while they climbed out of the Jeep. "Uhm, I think the paper said D. Hale? I'm not sure, though. I dunno who that is."
Scott nodded a little, seeming slightly put-out that he and Stiles would not be locker partners. Stiles rolled his eyes fondly at his brother and nudged the other teen. "Derek's kind of a jerk," Scott explained as they made their way into the building. "He can be cool and all, but sometimes he just gets this attitude that makes you wanna knock the smirk off of his face. Not all that different from you, actually."
"Hey! I'm not sure if I should take offense to that or not." Stiles glared at Scott anyway as they walked toward their lockers, only then finding out that even though they were not sharing a locker, their lockers were side-by-side. "Oh, cool! Now I can steal your Pringles easier."
"Dude, no. Mine. Back off." Scott narrowed his eyes a little at Stiles as he opened his locker to find that half of it was already decorated, obviously by someone either more feminine or a girl. Scott's head tipped slightly to the right as he noticed a picture pinned up on the inside of the door of himself and his girlfriend, Allison. After a moment, a bright smile formed on his features as he said, "Dude, I think I'm sharing with Allison."
Stiles rolled his eyes fondly at the other teen, smiling as he shoved his extra notebooks and pens into the empty shelf of the locker he was using. The high shelf already held some notebooks and writing utensils, as well as a scientific calculator and a binder. There was really nothing too distinguishing about the person he was sharing with besides the newspaper clipping from the year before about Derek Hale helping his school's basketball team win their division's tournament. Stiles smiled a little to himself before he took a picture out of his backpack to stick to the door with a magnet. It was a picture of himself, Scott, Melissa (Scott's mother), and John (Stiles' dad) on their parents wedding day. They were all dressed up, smiling and laughing in the photo. Even the slight lens flare from Scott's squinted eyes did not ruin the photo.
He turned to say something to Scott, but he noticed the dopey smile that crossed his best friend's face before Scott looked toward the double doors at the end of the hall. That was all Stiles needed to see to know that Allison was almost there. Sure enough, a few moments later, Allison came into the hallway, flanked by two people that Stiles did not recognize. Scott straightened up a little more and walked over to his girlfriend, meeting her half-way down the hall. Stiles did not hear what Scott said to the other two teens, but they both nodded, and the girl squeezed Scott's arm before she strode farther down the hall and past Stiles. The teen then made sure he put up everything but one notebook and one pen, which he would need for his first class (Advanced Chem with Harris). Then, he picked up his backpack, swinging it over his shoulder only to freeze for a moment when he felt it hit someone, and he quickly spun around to face the person with an apology that died when he found himself face-to-face with the guy that had walked in with Allison. He had a slightly amused smirk on his face and Stiles laughed slightly as he said, "Oops, sorry. Didn't realize anyone was there."
The other teen laughed with a smile, before pointing over Stiles' shoulder at the locker. "Are you finished? I kind of need my things," Derek stated.
"Oh, right! Yeah, sorry," replied Stiles before he stepped aside so that Derek could step forward and grab one of the notebooks that had been in there when Stiles opened the locker earlier. "I'm Stiles, by the way."
"Derek."
"I know." Stiles mentally face-palmed after the words slipped out and Derek's brow lifted in slight surprised, an amused smirk on his face. "I mean, I actually paid attention to my locker assignment, unlike some people." Stiles gestured over his shoulder toward where Allison and Scott stood talking. "He had all summer to know that he'd be sharing with Allison but did not know until he got here and found the photo."
Derek seemed to be unsure what to say to that, so he remained quiet as he shut their shared locker, spinning the dial of the lock once to make sure it was closed. He was not used to humans speaking to him so freely and it honestly set him on edge a little. It was... nice, though. He had heard Scott talk about his human brother several times, so a part of him had known that whoever the guy was had to at least be tolerant of werewolves; but, there was a difference between being tolerant and being friendly. Stiles definitely seemed to fall more on the friendly side. It was just slightly unnerving.
The bell rang just as Allison and Scott finally made their way toward their still-open locker and Stiles smiled at Derek. "See ya around, then," Stiles stated, waving a little before turning to kick Scott in the shin, earning himself a non-heated glare from the other teen. "Gotta deal with Harris. See you in English?"
Scott nodded and Allison greeted Stiles, who returned the greeting with a smile, before Stiles went off toward the chemistry classroom. He may have, somehow, gotten into the advanced class (which Harris was very picky about the students he let in there), but he had no doubts the man would still find reasons to pick on him. Being late on the first day was not in Stiles' agenda. He dropped down onto one of the two empty stools at the second station back on the right once he got in the room, the station he had used throughout high school to date. There were several familiar faces (such as Lydia Martin, who had to transfer to the other school their freshman year), Isaac Lahey, and Jackson Whittemore. The only thing that surprised him about them being in there was that Isaac and Jackson were sitting at the same station. There was a good distance between them, and Isaac seemed to want to try to disappear, but still. Isaac was not Danny, and therefore not someone that Stiles ever expected Jackson to sit with.
Just as the tardy bell rang, another student came in, and Stiles looked from his other classmates to the new entrant. He smiled with a soft, slightly surprised laugh to find that it was none other than Derek Hale. "Looks like you're stuck with Stilinski, Mr. Hale," their teacher, Mr. Harris said as he came into the classroom, shutting the door after him. "I apologize, but please take a seat."
Stiles sighed and rolled his eyes, leaning forward to rest his forearms on the table as Derek came over to sit on the empty stool at the station while Mr. Harris started talking about the class syllabus and what the year would consist of. Stiles stopped listening about half-way through, doodling on the edges of the papers instead. It was much more interesting drawing random, swirling designs in the blank parts of the boring and repetitive syllabus that was just like every one he had gotten every year before.
The rest of the morning passed by in a blur of information that Stiles did not remember, nor did he care to. He would learn everything throughout the year, anyway so what did it matter? Lunch, however, was an experience to remember. Stiles sort of paused near the doorway as he looked around the cafeteria to find that the students were basically separated off. All of the human students sat to one side, the werewolves to the other. There were several glares and looks of contempt from either side. Once again, Jackson sat next to Isaac (Stiles would have to pry into that later), and Scott sat at a table with Derek, the girl from that morning, Allison, Lydia, Erica Reyes, Vernon Boyd, and some other werewolves that Stiles did not know.
Stiles honestly had no idea where he should sit. There was a definite line between the two groups, but Stiles had friends on either side. Isaac smiled shyly at him from his spot next to Jackson, and Scott grinned brightly at him with a wave. Stiles let out a heavy breath as he tried to decide which side would be better. Either way, someone's feelings were going to be hurt; though, Stiles had a feeling Isaac wanted to sit with Scott as well. After all, the three of them were really good friends. There were several of the students he had gone to school with forever watching him, some with glares on their faces, as if daring him to sit anywhere but with them.
That, honestly, was all it took for Stiles to make up his mind. He lifted his head slightly in defiance before walking over to the table that Scott sat at, sitting on the empty chair between Scott and Derek, who was wrapped up in a conversation with one of the guys that Stiles did not know (though he thought he heard someone say the guy's name was Ethan). Stiles was not oblivious to the murmurs that resulted from his action, though he pretended not to hear while talking with Allison and Scott about a movie that the three of them had seen the other night.
Stiles idly started bouncing his knee as they spoke, poking moodily at the lunch that Melissa had packed for him sometime that morning before she went to the hospital. Stiles had insisted she did not need to do things like that; but, she insisted it was the only way she knew her boys were at least attempting to eat healthily, and with the smile she had given him, Stiles had been unable to refuse. He did not even realize that he was bouncing his knee until he felt someone place a firm hand on it to get him to stop, and he glanced over to Derek, who smirked slightly at him. "Relax," the other teen stated, smiling a little more when Stiles let out a breathy laugh in response.
"Relax? I'm totally relaxed," replied Stiles with a few nods. "Cool, calm, and collected; that's me."
"Your heart's racing." Derek arched an eyebrow slightly, that amused smirk tugging on his lips once again and Stiles let out a rush of air before he laughed softly again.
"Yeah, well, I dunno. Kinda hard to relax when people keep glaring at me like I stole Christmas." Stiles lifted his shoulders in a shrug as Derek pulled his hand away, something that Stiles wished he did not do. Which, was an odd thing in itself. Stiles was not a very touchy person, especially when it came to someone he did not know. He had no problem snuggling up to Scott or Isaac, someone he was close to; but, he did not even shake hands with people he did not know. Stiles was never quite sure why; but, just the idea of touching a stranger nearly had him squirming in his seat.
"They'll get over it," Derek insisted with a nod before his attention returned to the girl sitting on his other side. Her name was Cora, Stiles had learned, and she was Derek's twin sister.
The next few classes after lunch were so uneventful and boring, Stiles almost fell asleep in history. Once that class was over, Stiles made his way toward the art classroom, the only class he was going to have without Scott, Isaac, or Derek in it with him. He was almost there when another student came up behind him near the small set of stairs that stopped right next to the art room door, not that he was aware because he was texting on his phone, and suddenly he found himself being shoved forward, hard from behind. He did not even have time to gasp before he was falling down the few stairs, landing heavily at the bottom with his head smacking hard off the tile of the floor. "Be mindful of who you sit with, Stilinski," Stiles thought he heard someone say from above him, but the room was spinning too much for him to really focus on what was going on.
Stiles was vaguely aware of the sound of a teacher asking what was going on and the sounds of several students disappearing before there was a shout of someone needing an ambulance. Who needed one? Was it him? Stiles tried to ask, but the words did not seem to want to come out. He felt sick to his stomach and groaned when someone moved him. The brightness of the hall made his head hurt, and he felt really tired. "Stiles? Stiles, keep your eyes open, sweetie," his art teacher, Miss Penny said somewhere near-by.
He tried to listen, he wanted to listen because he knew that Miss Penny never steered him wrong. However, the need and want for sleep made his eyes heavy, and he could not keep himself awake any longer.
When he started to regain his focus, he felt cold and itchy, but that could have just been whatever blanket was draped over him. He did not like it. It was not his bedding. There was some kind of beeping somewhere in the background, and it took Stiles a few moments longer to realize it was a heart monitor. Hospital; the word came crashing into his consciousness. He was in the hospital, and the realization made his eyes snap open and he sat up quickly, which only caused his head to pound and the room to spin around him. "Whoa, sweetheart, lay back down," Melissa said as she rushed over to his side from where she had been standing near the door. She carefully helped the teen lay back on the bed, groaning as he moved. "No sudden movements, kiddo. You gave us all quite a scare there."
Stiles nodded faintly, wincing a little as he wet his lips. His mouth and throat felt dry and he could not find it in him to speak just yet. Melissa got him a small cup of water from the pitcher on the bedside table, using a bendy straw to help him drink some."There ya go," she said with a kind smile, reaching up to run a hand through his hair in a soothing manner, avoiding the knot on his head as she did. "Feel any better?"
"A little," Stiles replied in a scratchy voice. "What happened?"
Melissa laughed softly with a shake of her head and a faint smile. "They said you tripped on your shoelaces at the top of the stairs. You couldn't get your footing and hit your head. If you'd landed differently, you would have been fine."
Stiles' brow furrowed as she spoke and he tried to piece that into what he remembered. It did not make sense. He could clearly feel two hands pressing on his back, and he heard the faint echo of someone speaking to him. The teen shook his head after a moment, wetting his lips once again as he looked to his step-mother. "Someone pushed me."
The laughter left Melissa's face immediately as she watched Stiles, her heart pounding loudly in her ears. That could not be right. Someone pushing Stiles meant that it was not an accident. That meant someone had tried to hurt one of her boys. She lifted a slightly shaky hand to run through her curly hair before taking a deep breath. "I should... I should get your father in here. Stiles, who would try to hurt you?"
The thing was that Stiles could not figure out who had pushed him; he just knew that someone had, and that was the worst part. "I don't know."
