Being human is great fun:

Chapter one:

I open my eyes reluctantly at the sound of someone knocking on my door. I groan. Who would want to knock on my door at three in the morning? Who would be that reckless? Stumbling, I walk out my white bedroom door, down the oak brown stairs, and towards the front door. My questions have answers. Standing there, with stupid grins on their faces, are my two best friends, Stiles Stilinski and Scott McCall. They would be stupid and reckless to wake me up from my deep slumber.

They are both beaming like idiots, like one of them has just became pregnant and they are glowing from the news. I glare at them, narrowing my blue eyes at them. Gulping, they step inside, pushing me gently out the way and leaning against my kitchen side. I nearly rip my own hair out from frustration. I don't think they are planning on telling why they are here.

"Can I help you?" I ask, as I slam the door before walking towards them with my hands on my hips. "Because, before you so rudely interrupted, I was trying to sleep."

"Is that my t-shirt?" Stiles asks, and points to the dark gray t-shirt of his that I'm wearing.

"So? Have you missed it during the like years it's been here?" I snap.

He shakes his head, stepping back and holding his hands up in surrender. "Sorry?"

"You come to my house at three o clock in the morning and think you are just getting off with a sorry? I don't think so, sweetie," I mock. "Now, is one of you going to tell me what you are doing here before I throw you both out on your asses? And call the cops?" okay, so the last bit was a joke. Stiles' dad was the sheriff, so I usually joked that if Stiles got in trouble, I would call the cops.

Stiles glares, playfully, I hope. "Keep your little boxer briefs on for a second okay, before you go all Satan on us." I roll my eyes at his wit. "Dispatch called. They are calling every police on the Beacon Force and even state police. Two joggers found a body in the woods."

"So? Why am I getting told this information, yet again, at three o clock at night? They found a body, well done to them. Do they want a medal?" I ask angrily. As you can guess, I get pretty angry when I am sleep deprived.

"You need to come with!" Scott exclaims. "I'll just be stuck with Stiles then, and believe me, he is not good company to keep in the woods."

I realize something. If they had already found the body, what else are they looking for?

"Hold up—what else are they looking for if they have already got the body?" I ask.

"That is the best part!" they both start squealing like a bunch of girls shopping for some new shoes. "They only found half!"

"So, go upstairs and get that cute butt of yours changed before I drag you out like that," Stiles says, pointing to the stairs.

I roll my eyes. "I'm not blind, Stiles. Nor do I have no sense of direction. I know where my own stairs are. Now sit down and look pretty, don't break anything or I swear to god, I will get my baseball bat and shove it so far up your—"

Scott pushes me towards the stairs, stopping me from finishing my sentence. "I didn't want to hear the end of the sentence. Now just go get changed like a good little girl."

"You'd think that after being my best friends for god knows how long, you would know better then to wake me up. Obviously not," I mutter as I walk up the stairs to my closet where I grab a pair of black skinny jeans, a dark gray long sleeve t-shirt, and a black jacket and sling them on, not really caring what I look like.

I came back down the stairs a few moments later, look up at Scott, and then look at Stiles before hopping over to my Vans. "Are we going or what?"

"It's like we are her bitches," I hear Stiles mutter to Scott.

"Dude, I think we are," Scott replies, before they both follow me out.

"Where's your mom?" Scott asks, as we are driving in Stiles' blue jeep. Well, to me, it's the Piece Of Crap Machine—POCM—but Stiles gets very touchy about his car, so I leave it alone.

"Working. She has late shifts again," I reply. "What about your mom?"

"Same," Scott answers. Scott's mom and my mom work at the same hospital together, and are the best of friends. Only because they are both single mothers, with the same aged children, no boy in the last six months and their sanity slipping slowly away…. Of course I'm kidding about the last bit.

"Stiles, can you drive your piece of crap faster? I want to get a good night sleep for school tomorrow," I say, but I know its never going to happen.

"Why? Its not like we do a lot at school anyway," Stiles say, glancing at me through the rear view mirror. "Apart from talk to us and stuff."

"I have more to my life then just talking to you guys, you know," I say. "As it happens, I'm going to search for the other half of a dead body."

Scott chuckles. "Does that even count if you are still talking to us in the process?"

"Yes!" I exclaim. We stop by the sign that say Beacon Hills Preserve on it. I climb out while they stay in the car. "Are you guys going to stay in the car all night like pussies or actually come find the body?"

They both climb out the car, and walk towards me. Stiles throws his arm around my shoulders and we comfortably walk for a few moments before Scott speaks up.

"So, we're seriously doing this?" Scott asks, panting slightly.

"Come on, Scott, man up," I say, and smack his arm. "You're always bitching like Lydia about nothing happens in this town. Your manhood shrinking from your pussiness?"

"I was trying to get a good night sleep before practice tomorrow," Scott says to Stiles. Or I think he's saying it to Stiles…you can never really quite tell what this boy's doing.

Stiles snorts. "Because sitting on the bench wastes so much energy. Please, kill me! The strain is to much!"

I roll my eyes. "He meant that in the most sensitive way possible."

"No I didn't," Stiles says, and I elbow him in the ribs. "I so did!"

Scott just rolls his eyes. "I'm going to playing this year. In fact, I'm even making first line."

"Everybody has dreams, Scotty," I say, "Even if its pathetically unrealistic ones."

"Haha," Scott says. "So, which part of the body are we actually looking for?"

"I did not think of that," Stiles answers.

"What happens if the murderer who killed the girl is still out here?" I ask, looking at my friend with a raised eyebrow.

Stiles shrugs. "I didn't think of that, either."

"Its great that you planned this out, you know," I snap, crossing my arms over my chest as we carry on walking.

Stiles goes to the ground, and I follow suit as I spot the police officers with dogs and flashlights. We drag Scott down with us because he could get caught to, and we look at the police officers coming forwards. Stiles gets up and runs for it. I follow. And then, sadly and slowly, so does Scott. I feel sorry for my best friend. He has had asthma ever since he was a little kid. And he usually gets it quite bad, so I slow and wait for him to catch up…just as a police officer catches Stiles running through the woods.

"Hold up!" I cringe as I hear Sheriff Stilinski's voice. Crap. "This little delinquent belongs to me."

"Hey, Dad," Stiles says.

"Do you listen in to everyone of my phone calls?"

"No." Stiles pauses before answering again. "Not the boring ones."

"Right…where are your partners in crime?" His flashlight flashes out towards the trees where Scott and I are hiding. Crap. Oh, I'm going to be grounded for like a month.

"What? Scott and June? They are at home. They wanted a good night sleep before the start of school tomorrow. It's just me, alone. In the woods."

"June! Scott!" I cringe again as he hollers both our names in to the woods. I squeeze my eyes tight, and clench my fists up as his flashlight flashes against the tree I'm hiding behind. I hold my breath, and he turns off his flashlight and grabs his son by the collar.

"You are coming with me and we are going to have a little conversation about invasion of privacy…" Their voices trail off as they go off in to the distance. I breathe a sigh of relief, before stepping away from my tree. I walk towards Scott, who looks at me with relief filled eyes.

"He's such an idiot," I say simply, and lean against my other best friend's shoulder. I guess we are walking home.

Then, out of nowhere, come some deer, and I scream, falling to the ground, getting trampled on. I see Scott's inhaler on the floor but I don't reach to grab it because I don't want to risk loosing my arm. The deer pass, and Scott gets up. He got his phone out, switching it on and looking through the leaves, searching for his inhaler. Suddenly, he screams, and fell down a hill. I try to run after him, to make sure he is okay, but I fell too. I roll away, away, away and away from my best friend screaming in pain.

I forget everything as soon as my head makes contact with the edge of the hard wood, knocking me out cold. I slowly slip into unconsciousness. Before I do, I see a figure walking slowly towards me before it all goes black…

I awake groggily, my eyes blurry, my throat raw and my head burning. I can't remember what happened last night. All I see when I try to look back in the looming figure walking over to me…but why? Why was there a dark, looming, tall figure walking towards me, in what seemed to be the woods? Questions I can't answer are running through my head as I sit, painfully, up.

I look around, trying to recognize anything. But nothing about the place I am in says what happened. The house is burnt and rotted, beam after beam of charred wood hanging down from the ceiling, a window in front of me with no glass, just the wooden frame that used to be white, and then there is what I am sitting on. It was a couch, from what I could see, and it is covered in dirt and muck…almost as if its ash.

I jump as someone clears their throat, clearly to get my attention. The jump causes me to go flying back off the couch, on to the creaky wooden floorboards. I bang my head slightly on the wooden floorboard behind my head, and scream out in pain. So I hit my head last night? I glance over at the person, who had cleared their throat, to see it's a him and he's watching me intently.

I place to fingers behind my head and feel around for a lump or a bump. I feel crusted bits of stuff in my hair, and I feel some liquid on my head. I pull my fingers away and there's blood. Crap. I look at the man before me, taking in his features.

He's hot. Tall, dark, brooding. His stubble makes him look older then he is supposed to be, and I feel like the stubble is a cover to cover his face. His eyes are hidden underneath his dark eyebrows, since he is frowning, but I can see they are a piercing green and beautiful. His dark hair sticks up in a fashion that models would die for, and his attire was dark, all black apart from the gleam the sun is making on his leather jacket. I sum up what he is; hot.

"W-w-w-what happened?" I am the first to speak, but stuttering like a complete idiot. I try, again, to see what happened last night.

Suddenly, it all comes rushing back. Stiles and Scott saying there was a dead body in the woods, and we were going. Then we got there and Stiles was taken away by his dad. Scott and I didn't get caught. Then there was deer. And Scott's scream…and then the dark, looming figure that I knew was this man before me. All I can think of is what has happened to Scott. Is he okay? Did he survive? What happened?

"You fell." The man's voice is hard and cold, like his posture. I look at him again, silently thanking him for taking away my worry with one look at him.

I roll my eyes. "It doesn't take a genius to figure that out, Sherlock Holmes. I meant, how did I get here?" I try standing up, so I can face him better, but I end up falling back down. My head fells like it weighs a ton.

But he catches me with ease, and places me back on the couch while muttering the words, "I've got you."

"Can I go?" I ask, as I try to stand again. His hand is gently pushing me back on to the couch. "Because my mom will be home soon, and I will be in big trouble if she finds out I went out at like two at night."

He nods. "If you're up to it."

I don't know what possess me, but I look at him and ask, "Are you always this antisocial?"

He just glares at me. I guess its not the right time to loose your cool in front of a hot guy, June, I scold myself.

"Is that anyway to talk to the man who saved you?" he spoke, poking his hand into his leather jacket's pockets.

I try to stop myself, but my mouth is obviously not listening to whatever my brain tells it to do, "Well, I can't help it if you are rude to me first." I then took in account that I didn't even know his name. "I don't even know your name."

He's glaring, again. This glare is dangerous, and changeling. "Derek."

It suits him, I agree in my mind.

"I'm June."

"I don't care."

For the third time, my mouth has its own mind, "See, that's exactly why I talk to you the way you think rude. Because you are rude to me."

I stand, and he grabs hold of me before I can even try to walk. I turn my head and look up at him. I notice that he has the perfect chest, muscles and all, and he is the perfect height. Well, to me, he is tall because I'm short at five foot three, but he looks about a good six-foot/six foot one ish.

"You obviously aren't going to make it back to your house by yourself. I'll drive you."

"Thank you. For everything."

He lifts me up, one of his perfectly muscled arms under my knees, the other on my mid back as he carries me effortlessly to his black Chevrolet Camaro. I smile lightly, my lips tugging ever so slightly at the corners. So he likes cars? He gently puts me down the passenger seat, before walking round to the drivers seat. He then reverses, and goes down the dirt road. It is bumpy, and every bump hurt my head, but I didn't complain.

Neither of us attempts to make conversation because of what had happened in the house and how I couldn't control what I could say. I tell him where my house is, that's about as much of as I talk to him. He pulls up on the sidewalk out side my house, and I go to get out of his car, but he grabs my wrist. I look up at him in surprise.

"Do you think you can make it to the front door without falling over?"

As if on que, Stiles turns up behind us in his blue Jeep. I nod at Derek, and I get out. I watch his black Chevrolet speed off towards the road we had come, before I turn to Stiles. My head is pounding, as I try to take some steps towards the front door. Ouch.

"June!" Stiles exclaims, and runs over. "Are you okay? Scott said he lost you somewhere. I called you, but you weren't answering my calls."

I pull out my phone, and see it has died completely. "It's dead." I hug him. "I didn't mean to make you worry, I swear. I hit my head when I fell, and I got knocked out. I just woke up."

Yeah, I left out Derek Hale in my explanation, who cares? Well, they might if they find out I lied to them, but whatever. That's in the long run.

"Who's car was that, June?"

"Just somebody I know." I smirk. "Can you help me to the door so I can change into something less…"

"Trampy?" he tries to finish as he slings my arm around his shoulder and lifts me up to the front door. he even grabs my key from underneath the plant pot, puts it in the door and opens it. This is why I love Stiles.

"I'm just going to shower. Could you put some toast in for me?" I ask him as I go towards the stairs. I can walk now, a little. So I get up the stairs, get in the shower and wash myself, scrubbing any inch of the house, the forest…Derek.

Almost instantly, I remember who he is and what happened to him. His family died in a fire like six years ago. It had killed his parents, cousins, aunts, uncles…. I feel suddenly guilty for being rude to him. I shouldn't have. He was just being nice…in some weird, no emotion way. I walk into my room, my mind still on Derek Hale and his family, and look out of my window into the forest. I stop when I see big, red dots looking in my window.

I think I saw them, I don't know…maybe I hit my head to hard. But before I can find out if they are real, they disappear. I shake my head. You're going crazy, June. I bring out my white floral dress, my brown leather jacket, my brown heels and my necklace before putting them all on and starting on my hair and make-up.

I don't usually bother with make-up, but I have some scratches I want hidden, so I have a reason, right? I place on the foundation, and then put my eyeliner on, then mascara before drying my hair into its natural waves. I nod happily, ignoring the burning pain in the back of my head, and go down the stairs.

Stiles is there, working on buttering a piece of toast. He looks so cute with his tongue pocked out in concentration, and his nose crinkled. I giggle at his face. He looks up, and smiles.

"Going for the girly girl look?" he asks, waving a hand. He walks over, throws an arm around my shoulders, and walks me to the table. He's basically force-feeding me my toast.

I notice that he still looks worried, even though he's seen me alive and well. That's just Stiles. He always worries. His caramel eyes aren't hidden away or used to glare all the time, and are always full of worry, but his eyes are warm and inviting…unlike a certain someone's eyes…not naming names…Derek Hale. Stiles has a short hairstyle, he's tall and pale, cute and like a puppy.

Scott's the same, always thinking he has to save everybody else before himself. Even if he's having an asthma attack and he has to save me from falling over. He nearly got put into hospital for that asthma attack. Scott's eyes are brown, his hair is long, and he is tall with the most beautiful russet skin. It's so cute. They both are…

Me, being short and skinny, had curly, raven black hair. Eyes were a pale color of gray blue, with flecks of green. I get my looks from my dad, but he unfortunately died in a car crash when I was five. It's just my mom, and me but she constantly works all the time. So I am always mostly alone.

"Let's go."

"Why are you, of all people, in a rush to get to school?"

"I wanna see Scott's bite."

"Jackass."

I smack him around the head, before climbing in the jeep, ready for the school day. Well, I opt to calling it hell, but some people just don't see where I'm coming from.