A/N: I don't even know where this even came from. I've never written Teen Wolf before, I've read it (Sterek all the way dude! Although I do read other stuff….) I don't know what the end game for this is, we'll find out together, I guess.

I don't own Teen Wolf.

Stiles grabbed his backpack, opened the door, and literally fell out of his jeep. He grabbed the edge of the door and caught himself for the most part and looked around to make sure no one, especially Lydia, saw that. He made sure to avoid looking at the spot that was usually occupied by Allison's car. He started to walk toward the front door of the BHHS and it wasn't until he was almost at the door when he noticed that the parking lot was practically deserted. Pulling out his phone, he saw that he was at least ten minutes early. He had spent most of his night awake, trying to avoid the nightmares, the vulnerable feeling of sleep, the complete and utter fear of being locked inside his own head. No, he wasn't going to think of that.

Stiles wandered his way to his locker. He was putting his homework from last night away on the locker shelf thing he had and was digging for the pack of gum that he knew was somewhere in the mess that was the bottom half of his locker. His head was under the shelf when a triumphant grin graced his face. "There you are!"

"Bilinski!" He jerked up and his head slammed into the shelf, arms flailing, and knocked the door of his stupid locker into his back. He swore not really under his breath as he finally extracted himself from the mess that was the inside of his locker with minimum flailing.

"Yes, Coach?" His face scrunched up and pulled and stretched as he tried to push away the pain. His hand came up to rub where he hit, eyes still closed.

"This is – what's your name again?" Finstock looked down at the girl - young lady – woman – person next to him. Stiles did the same. She looked familiar with the jaw and the cheekbones – God, her cheekbones – and the eyebrows and the rolling of the Beta blue – Holy shit, is she a werewolf? If she is, why is she sporting the blues as her normal eyes? Getting off track here – and the dark hair that was curly and actually looked natural curly and she was speaking. Stiles, pay attention.

"Davis, Coach. My name is Harley Davis." She had an accent but it was light, like she was talking around it and he couldn't really make out what it was.

"Oh yeah. Bilinski, this is Harley - wait. Your parents actually named you Harley Davis?" Finstock's disbelief was evident. "That's almost as bad as Bilinski's name. Bilinski, Davis over here is new. Show her around, take her to her locker and do I really have to spell it out for you?" Finstock turned and was gone before Stiles could even agree.

"Is he always like that?"

He thought about it for a moment. "Pretty much, yeah," he nodded quickly and then grabbed his head as the nodding did not agree with him. "Should not have done that. Not at all. The doing of that should not have been done. The lockers are moving; they shouldn't be moving. Why are they moving?" He felt a hand grip his arm and then he was sliding down and that's the ground. Why is he on the ground? He should be standing and getting to class and why are the walls that color, it's like being in a padded room. Hmm, room, bed, sleep. NO! Don't think about sleep, Stiles. Or using the sleep or- A hand touching his face pulled him away from his thoughts of using the sleep.

He looked up into the new girl's eyes and wow, those eyes are blue. Like really blue. Electric blue. Bright electric blue. Bright Beta electric blue. Pretty bright Beta electric blue.

"Thank you," an amused voice rang out and even her voice was pretty and damn, did he say that out loud? "Again, thank you, and yes, yes you did."

There you go again, Stiles. Fucking up in the first five minutes. She won't want to be your fri- Fingers are snapping in front of his face. "You okay, dude? Should I take you to the nurse. Although I don't actually know where the nurse is so why don't we just sit here, yeah?" She rambled slightly. Stiles smiled, at least he's not the only one. He blinked a couple of times then braced himself against the wall to push himself up. She stood and gave him room as he pushed himself up.

"Seriously though, are you okay?"

He nodded. "Just a little tired," a yawn reinforcing his excuse.

"Probably doesn't help that Coach scared the shit out of you back there." Stiles couldn't help but concede the point. She offered her hand. "Harley but friends call me Blaze."

He grinned as he took it. "I'd tell you my first name but nobody but my blood relatives know it and can pronounce it. You can call me Stiles though. Stiles Stilinski."

"Stiles Stilinski? Stiles pulled from your last name?"

Stiles nodded and looked at her impressed, thoughts of sleep and nightmares long gone. "You're the first person that hasn't gone 'Stiles Stilinski? Your parents really named you that?' or my personal favorite, 'The fuck's a Stiles?' You also understand where it came from. Kudos to you," he grinned at her, genuinely pleased that she hadn't given one of the standard responses. Stiles looked around the quickly filling hallway then down at the new girl. He grabbed her schedule, looked at her locker number then looked over her schedule. She was taking mostly senior classes, most of which were AP but he was in some of them, cough cough, English, Calculus, and Physics, cough cough .

"You're lockers this way," he said and ignored her raised eyebrow; he grabbed her wrist and pulled her down the hall. He started to babble about classes and the best routes between them as he dragged her through Beacon Hills High. "Danny!" The goalie turned to look at the approaching teenager as he flailed his arms trying to get his attention. His eyes shot to the girl trailing behind him. Another new girl perhaps?

"Danny, this is Harley. She's new. Harley this is Danny. He's awesome." Danny rolled his eyes and offered his hand to her.

"Call me Blaze."

"You're new?"

"Why'd you say it like that?" she asked warily.

"We've just seem to have an influx of new kids lately. It started with Allison, Ethan and Aiden," Danny stuttered over the name of the twins, "Kira, Malia, and now you. I never knew Beacon Hills was this popular."

"Neither did I, Dan-o." Stiles winced after he said it.

"Don't ever call me that again," Danny said seriously.

"No problem. I have to do some stuff before first and do you think you could show Blaze around and to her first class? Thanks Danny! You're the best." He didn't wait for an answer as he turned and was barely two steps away before he turned back to them. "Am I attractive to gay guys?" he directed toward Danny.

Danny rolled his eyes. He had seriously thought they were past this. "Go Stiles." Stiles walked away with a bounce in his step, some normalcy before the phone call he was about to make was always nice.

Tell me what you think. :)