Disclaimer: I do not own Teen Wolf
Full Summary: Kayla Dering has been searching for answers about her parents' mysterious deaths, which leads her to a small town teeming with secrets. Unbeknownst to her, her life is at risk, and she has many new friends—and possibly someone that's more than a friend—to look out for. But as everything unravels, who is really guilty of what? Can she handle this new world she's entering, or will it consume her? Derek/OC
A/N: For anyone who wondered what'd happened to my previous story titled 'Family Secrets', I apologize. I took it down to modify it quickly. This is a new version, and I highly recommend reading the first chapter over, because it's different in many ways. You will, however, note that I did keep many things. Sorry! And please let me know what your thoughts are! Lack of response somewhat prompted the change…
One
Incessant Bad Luck
Rain drummed onto her car rhythmically, falling like tiny shining silver bullets in front of the headlights that broke up the darkness on the empty road. In the driver's seat, she glared ahead at the smoke rising from the hood languidly, intermixing with the rain. Normally, she'd laugh at her incessant bad luck. It wasn't news that the absolute worst thing that could happen, usually happened. But tonight, her dark mood paralleled the blackness that'd settled into the woods, fencing her on this road.
Beside her, Karma was distressed. The dog's usual glossy, German Sheppard coat is casted in shadows, grey and matte. She kept nudging at the window with her nose, whining and squirming about.
Fear pricked in her stomach. Karma's panic-stricken state was a sign of what was surely waiting for them outside, watching from the voids of blackness. Trees loomed up above them, towering, swaying beasts in the rain. It wouldn't be much of a stretch of the imagination to see one come to life. At least it'd be less monstrous than the unrelenting things that haunted her thoughts and dreams. Things she couldn't believe, and yet the facts were so very clear.
Huffing, she rested her forehead on the cold steering wheel. Really, she wasn't one to complain about rain. However, the prospect of attempting to repair her old beat-up car in it wasn't too appealing. Especially not in the dark of the night, in a place she was completely unfamiliar with, on a road she didn't even know the name of, with the shadows shrouding monsters in its depths. However dreadful it sounded, there was no point in dwelling on it. There were only two choices: sitting in the car and wait for something to come and get her, or get the car fixed and let something else fall prey to its wrathful hunger.
She was about to open the door when headlights in the rearview mirror casted a glare into her eyes. Someone else was coming.
Without thinking about it, her hand went for the switchblade in her right boot, placing the smooth weapon calmly on the seat as her heart beat picked up. She dearly hoped they were only help, but couldn't help running through a list of all the other things they could be instead.
Their jeep pulled to a stop behind hers on the side of the road. Squinting, she could only make out a dark shape in the driver's seat as the rain began pelting down harder. When the door opened and a boy around her age stepped out, she actually felt a little guilty. He didn't have a jacket on to fend off the icy shower. Watching him in the mirror, she saw him shake his head comically, splaying sheets of water out in a spiral, almost like Karma might. Rolling down the window, she quickly tucked her blade back into her boot.
Bracing his hands on the side of the car, the boy peered in, his face screwed up in confusion. "You need some help?" At first, she was surprised. The confusion on his face turned to one of speechlessness, and his mouth hung open with stupor. She ignored this. He had honey-brown eyes that she could see easily in the darkness. There were gems of water clinging to his dark eyelashes, grouping them together to form wisps of a star. His hair was short; a buzz cut. He had the kind of face that was open and friendly, something she'd always been secretly envious of. Although she'd already assessed him to not be a threat, she now knew it for certain.
Giving him a rueful smile, she tucked a strand of hair behind her ears. Ugh. Nervous habit. "Actually, I do. I'm not much of a mechanic, and my phone died a couple hours ago. I'm kind of stranded."
His eyes widened risibly. Struggling to form words, he finally managed, "Have you been out here that long?"
"Oh—no," She mended, amused by his strange antics. "I've been driving for a while, though. This only happened within the past half-hour."
Nodding, he appeared more at ease. A flicker of what seemed to be apprehension crossed his face as his eyes skimmed the forest. When he looked back down to her, it vanished, replaced by a crooked grin. "Well, lucky for you, I happen to be sufficient with cars. If you pop your hood, I'll see what it is I can do."
"You would do that? For a stranger?"
He waved a hand in the air, a dramatic gesture, as he headed to the front of the car. "Yeah, no problem. Said stranger seems pretty nice to me."
Feeling utterly grateful, she popped the hood and pushed her door open to join him. If he was going to try to fix her beat-up car in the rain, the least she could do was keep him company. Once, her brother had tried to teach her the basics of mechanics by letting her reconstruct an old engine. She'd failed so awfully, there was nothing left of the engine when she was finished. It seemed his natural talent didn't run in their blood.
The boy had lifted the hood, and now stood examining the innards of the machine scrupulously. The set, determined look on his face kept drawing her attention to him, instead of the engine. A smile tugged at her lips, but she tried her hardest to quell it. It was like he was a doctor examining a patient; albeit a doctor with rain dripping down his face.
As he began noting some minor problems with the engine, she could feel the rain's icy tendrils seep into her hair, making it infinitely darker than its natural chocolate brown. She didn't have on much of a jacket, either, and within minutes, her clothes were soaked. She tried following along with his words, but for all she knew, he was speaking an entirely different language. Something about a spark plug and a crankshaft. Huh? He glanced up at her to see if she was following along, and she just nodded.
He smirked. "The slight glaze in your eyes gives you away, you know. My best friend usually gets that look in class, so I've come to recognize it. I applaud your attempt to at least look like you're paying attention."
She laughed genuinely, and was surprised by his frankness. "You caught me. I have absolutely no idea what's going on. I'm afraid I'm a bit useless when it comes to these things."
He stuck out his chest intrepidly as he folded his arms across it and leaned against the car. Unceremoniously, he slipped and fell. His hand flew out to grasp a hold on the bumper, but the hood descended on it before he could yank it away. "Ow!" he cried, holding his hand to his mouth. There was a sheepish look on his face as he straightened up, brushing leaves from his sodden jeans. "Yeah… I'll go get my toolbox."
She watched as he headed back to his jeep, pressing her lips together to suppress a laugh. He was goofy. Her attention transferred to inside her car. Karma had grown more distraught, and was now whimpering and clawing at the door. Frowning, she wanted to soothe her, but the boy was returning with a bulky toolbox in his hands.
"This shouldn't take too long." He'd dropped the toolbox to the wet cement and selected a few tools from various areas. As he got to work, he spoke over his shoulder. "So, I don't really think I've seen you around before. Are you from Beacon Hills?"
"I'm new," she supplied, watching as he worked with ease. "I was just on my way in tonight, actually. It's really just my luck that this would happen. Although, I don't usually have any good luck, which would be you showing up. You have no idea how much I appreciate this."
Even as his back was to her, she could see his grin. "Just call me your good luck charm, then. Don't worry, I wouldn't mind in the least. In fact, I encourage it. Use me, abuse me… whatever your preference."
"Whatever you say," she said lightly. The blush that crept onto her face, even in the cold rain, was inexorable. She was just thankful he couldn't see her.
"So, new, huh? That explains it."
She couldn't decipher his tone. "Explains what?"
"You don't know about the new curfew," he replied, switching a wrench for a socket. He grunted as he twisted something before continuing. "Can't be out after nine-thirty. Police enforced."
Her eyebrows rose. "Seriously? Do people actually abide by that?"
The boy smirked. "Well, as you can see, I don't."
"And you haven't gotten pulled over or anything? Impressive. Do the cops really enforce it that much?"
The smirk broadened. "Oh, I've gotten pulled over plenty of times. By my dad, in fact. He's the sheriff. And trust me, they enforce it."
"Your dad's the sheriff?" She was truly impressed. "That's gotta be awesome. You know, getting out of things."
He snorted. "If you call 'getting out of things' getting serious lectures, I suppose you're right. It could be worse. And I do have connections with the 9-1-1 dispatcher. She has a lovely voice. Really soothing to listen to. I can't say she'd think the same about me, though."
Laughing, she smiled down at this stranger. "What's your name?"
"Stiles," he said, half distracted. Then he turned and looked at her, honey-brown eyes alight. "Yours?"
"Kayla."
"Kayla," he repeated, looking thoughtful. "I like it. Well, Kayla, will I be seeing you around? You go to high school, right?"
Chuckling, she nodded. "Yes. The only one in town, as a matter of fact."
Stiles rested his arm down a moment, blinking in pretense of amazement. "Well, I'll have to introduce you to my friends. I personally take responsibility in commencing your new social life."
It was hard to resist a smile. He seemed like a pretty nice guy. "I would appreciate that." Was she actually making a friend already? The prospect was… newish. It'd been so long since she'd really had anyone to talk to, besides her brother and Slade.
Grunting again, a wrench clanked to the ground as he ducked his head in to peer at the engine. "Well," he said briskly. "Let's see if it works. Go ahead and start it."
Heading back to the driver's seat, she stole a glance at him. She could have sworn she heard him murmuring something, looking up at the sky, as if praying for the engine to work. Another smile threatened to quirk up her lips. She slid into the seat and twisted the key. The sound of her engine roaring to life made her grin.
"You did it!" she exclaimed, jumping out of the seat.
Stiles ran a hand through his saturated hair, looking relieved. "Doubted my handiness, did you?"
"Not for a second," she said genuinely.
He seemed pleased by this comment. After slamming the hood down, he got to work piling his tools back into the box. Hefting into his arms, he stopped beside her before heading back to the jeep.
"I've got to say, Kayla, it was very nice meeting you."
Smirking, she cocked her hip and crossed her arms. "I sense something attached to your tone. Please, do be blunt."
"Well," he drew out the word, an undercurrent surfacing in his voice. "Here's where you take pity on me. You see, I'm going to have to ask for your number. For safety purposes, of course. Can't have you getting stranded out here again, can we? The pitying part comes in when I also insist that you take mine. How else would you reach me? And besides, there could be other emergencies. Say you need someone to watch a scary movie with at the last minute, or, since school's already started, you need help with your homework. You'll definitely need my number. Trust me. But of course, this offer is purely innocent. I didn't want it coming off differently. My heart belongs to another."
Biting her lip, she suppressed a grin. "And there you've gone, crumbling my hopes."
He wiggled his eyebrows up and down. "Well, if you don't mind being the other woman, I suppose we could work something out."
She decided she liked this guy. Not like that, since it was obvious he was with someone, but as a friend. It'd be very nice to have a friend, especially before she started her first day at Beacon Hills High. "As appealing as that sounds, I'm afraid I'll have to decline. However, you need no pity from me. I of course see your logic. Who else would I call, in case of those things?" Especially since I don't know anyone?
They exchanged numbers and bid goodbye until the next day. However, he'd warned her before he'd left. About being out too late at night, with animal attacks becoming increasingly common. One thing clicked in her mind, and she knew she'd picked the right town. Yes, there was so much more to Beacon Hills than met the eye. So much that was hidden in the dark depths of the forests.
An hour later, Kayla traded the looming shadows of the night for the dim lighting in her new home, off a nearly empty stretch of road on the outskirts of town. Karma had already settled in and was deeply asleep on the couch in the small living room. Every so often, her paws dug at the air, like she was running in a dream.
Standing at the intersection where the kitchen, dining, and living room met up, her hands on her hips, she surveyed her surroundings. It felt odd, really, to be in such a new place that was supposed to be her home. Though she supposed once she actually began living in it, it'd feel more welcoming. The house was surprisingly nice and came furnished with all the necessities. It'd only cost her a good chunk of her inheritance, but was well worth it.
The soggy clothes from earlier had been dispensed into a washing machine in a different part of the small house. Even though she was warm and dry in a t-shirt and sofie shorts, the feeling that something was still off remained. Karma obviously was no longer distressed, but that didn't mean the erroneous feeling had dissipated.
Drawing the curtains in each room, she only stopped a moment in her own to appreciate the fact that they were a thicker cotton instead of a sheer gossamer material. It felt safer, as if somehow they could shield her from the evil outside.
When she got to work quickly unloading the rest of her things, she made sure that a loaded pistol could be found in the kitchen drawer closest to the front door. The door, itself, had already been bolted locked several times, after she'd attached more security locks. The thicker kind; no human or animal could bust through without her at least being alerted to it.
Although she didn't have many weapons—really only her switchblade and the gun, because Slade had insisted it'd be too dangerous otherwise—she took note of the things she could use creatively, in case of an intruder. After her car failing, her nerves felt ready to burst. She was certain that something had been watching her. What it was, she didn't know, just yet.
After the quick inventory of items in the house, she returned to the kitchen. A box, unlike the other moving boxes, was perched atop the island counter, beckoning her. Every time she looked at it, the magnetic pull drew her closer. She succumbed to the pull, but did only that. The only time she'd ever sorted through its contents had been when she'd first been given it, years ago.
It was made of cherry wood and intricately carved with a forest scene. Every time her eyes wandered over the vista, she spotted new things. A rabbit skipping away here, dark, menacing eyes shrouded in the background there. Always something new.
Reaching out, she touched the delicate surface. Without opening it, she knew what lay within. The picture of her parents. The other things that haunted her. Taking a deep, deciding breath, she fingered the key strung around a chain on her neck. Beside it was her locket, but she ignored it for the moment. Bending down, she used the key to open the box.
The photograph sat in its place. Two faces beamed up at her, so familiar and enchanting. They looked so happy; the delight in their eyes was genuine. How could people be that way—so carefree and loving and content? That was the unanswered question that pricked at her, day and night.
Stretched out behind her parents was an old wooden dock, the only stem of a walkway leading onto the blue lake. Dense forest, analogous to what she'd see if she peeked outside, filled in the background. She knew that behind whoever had taken the picture was their cabin. The cabin wasn't far from here.
As her eyes scanned over her parents faces once more, a raw feeling of pain cut at her heart like a serrated knife was threatening to spill her blood. Tears stung in her eyes, the pain tracing its way to the tip of her nose. She quickly dabbed at her eyes, forcing the sadness down. She didn't have the luxury to fall apart. Not now. Because once she did, no amount of superglue would keep her together. There was no one to rely on to comfort her. No, now she had to suck it up and be strong. For them. For her parents.
Shutting the box with a sense of finality, she picked it up and made her way to her bedroom. She shoved the box and its unspeakable contents under the bed, where the darkness could blanket them.
The backpack resting against her door caught her attention. Seeing the ordinary item brought back thoughts of that boy. Stiles. Would it be any harm to actually make a friend or two? It wasn't like she was only here for her own personal agenda… But she didn't want to drag anyone into her troubles. Everyone has something to worry about already, right? It'd be selfish of her to try and include them in something that 1. they probably wouldn't care about, and 2. they definitely shouldn't care about. It was her burden to shoulder, no one else's. Maybe if she was extra careful, things would turn out all right.
She couldn't help but feel the tiniest bit of doubt. There was, without question, so much more going on in Beacon Hills than most people knew. She doubted this boy Stiles even had any clue as to what was really out there. If she questioned her ability to keep herself from harm, how could she ensure he'd be safe?
Sighing, she rested her head against the door. She wished things could be easier, that they could go back to the way they were before, when her parents were alive. But it wasn't possible. The dead couldn't return from such clutches. Yet, there had to be some purpose to all of this, didn't there? She'd figure it out. If it was the very last thing she did.
Rubbing at her temples, she headed back to her room. Tomorrow was her first day of school. After that, she'd try to get to work. Unraveling Beacon Hill's secrets was sure to be quite an endeavor.
Grey dawn light had broken through a small gap in her curtains, shedding a thin line of light upon Kayla's closed eyes. She slowly opened them to discover her room glowing in deep shades of blue casted off the equally blue curtains shrouding her from the new day. The previous night, a cadenced chirping of crickets had lulled her into a deep sleep. It seemed that nature would be her constant, as well as her clock.
Anxiety immediately swelled in her stomach. She had to go to school today.
Forcing herself out of bed, she showered and got ready, all the while dreading leaving the house. However, it was a Thursday, so she only had to suffer through two days of school before she had another two off. The thought alleviated some of her tension.
Karma was pacing around the kitchen. Upon seeing Kayla emerge from the bathroom, she grew excited, nudging at her food dish. Kayla quickly took care of the little things, checking the time so that she wouldn't be late.
Popping a bagel into her mouth, she went to her room one last time to ensure that her mother's box was still under the bed, and headed out.
Beacon Hills High was larger than she thought it'd be. After snatching up her backpack and heading in, the bell rang. Hallways soon emptied almost eerily. She found herself looking nervously around for the front office. Fretful butterflies surged through her stomach. It seemed that her first day wasn't going to go as well as she'd hoped. At a loss for what to do or where she was, panic nearly descended on her. Luckily, a man in a suit emerged from a hallway, with a friendly smile.
"You must be Ms. Dering. I'm Principal O'Brien. Come on, we'll get your schedule and get you situated."
Grateful that he'd managed to find her, Kayla kept up with the principal's leisurely pace and felt more at ease. He told her about 'the' sport to play (for boys)—lacrosse—and how their academics were more than exemplary. After receiving her schedule and discovering she had English first hour, he led her down several halls until reaching a doorway that read ROOM 504.
The anxiety she'd felt earlier returned in a rush, pressing on her chest like a weight. As the principal led her in, her eyes scanned the classroom. Some girls were blowing bubbles of gum, chomping on them and twirling their hair, while others looked bored, examining their nails or gossiping. Boys, of course, were chatting up girls or making paper air planes, shooting them at the chalkboard. Well, at least it wasn't like everyone was staring at her.
It wasn't until her eyes landed on a familiar face that she truly relaxed. Stiles had this class, too. He seemed in deep conversation with another dark haired boy. The conversation ceased when his eyes met hers.
"Oh, hey!" he shouted in a strange pitch, a grin breaking out on his face. The entire class stopped, utterly silent, to stare at him as he laughed uneasily, trying to fend off their hard looks.
As the teacher read off her name to the class, Kayla's face burned bright red, and she quickly found a seat behind Stiles. The moment she'd sunk into her seat, Stiles twisted around to face her. He seemed almost too energetic, like he'd drank a gallon of caffeine. There was a lazy grin on his face.
"Kayla," he said. "I was just telling Scott—who totally didn't believe me," he gave the boy beside him a dark look, "about you." Stiles made introductions as the class commenced.
Scott looked dubiously between the two. "So you're Kayla? He's not just paying you to say that? You really did meet him, last night?"
At the last sentence, several other students threw them amused looks. Kayla ignored it. "Yes," she said slowly, a little confused. Stiles was scowling at Scott. "He fixed my car. Thanks again, Stiles. Seriously, if it weren't for you, I'd probably still be stranded."
Stiles gave Scott a pointed look before saying, "Absolutely no problem. I always make time for my imaginary friends. Pay up, Scott." He held his hand out expectantly, a tiny scowl on his face.
As Scott slapped a five-dollar bill in Stiles' hand, Kayla raised her eyebrows. "Okay, one, 'imaginary friends?' And seriously? Only five dollars?"
"Every friendship has its price," Stiles' joked. At least, she thought he was joking. "And Scott didn't think you were real. What was it you said specifically, Scott? That I had imaginary friends more real than some 'mysterious stranger I met in the dark?' He added something kinky, too, like—"
"Okay!" Scott interrupted sheepishly. "Okay, I think she gets it."
Stiles grinned a moment, then leaned into Scott with a conspiracy tone. "So, what do you think? This will definitely get Lydia's attention, right? New hot girl, sitting by me at lunch, looking mildly interested—"
"Wait—excuse me? Is that why you helped me with my car?" Kayla wasn't sure whether to be upset, vaguely embarrassed, or simply amused.
Stiles' mouth opened comically, and he blinked between Scott and Kayla. Scott snickered.
"Well, uh, no. Like I told you, it's crazy dangerous out there. I couldn't leave one of my new friends stranded on the side of the road, could I?" Stiles covered quickly.
Kayla smirked. "Right. Because we know each other so well, it'd be heartbreaking."
"What would be heartbreaking—"
"Mr. Stilinski!" the teacher, Mrs. Crowther barked. "Is your conversation so important that you have to interrupt my class for the fourth time this week?"
Stiles stared at her blankly. "Uh… yeah."
Mrs. Crowther threw her hands in the air. "Why do I even try?" she said more to herself, than the class. Then she shook a finger in the air, threateningly. "If I hear one more word out of you, then it's a detention for all three of you!" Spinning on her heel dramatically, she returned to writing notes about Macbeth on the board, pressing the chalk so hard that cracked.
Huffing, Stiles rolled his eyes. He mouthed 'at lunch' to Kayla, and faced the front of the class.
The hours seemed to fly by, and before she knew it, or really even welcomed it, Kayla found herself struggling to follow the school map to the cafeteria. She'd been so intent on figuring out where she was, she didn't realize someone was ahead of her until she bumped into them.
What little papers she'd held flew out of her hands, and she gave a cry of surprise as she fell back. A scarlet color crept onto her face immediately when she realized she'd also managed to knock the girl over.
"I'm so sorry!" she apologized immediately, embarrassed. "I wasn't paying attention. I'm a little lost—I'm really sorry."
The other girl—a brunette with long, curly hair and a sweet smile—only laughed lightly as she propped up on her knees and began gathering the loose papers. "It's okay. Trust me when I say I've had my fair share of wipe-outs, too. You're the new girl, aren't you?"
Kayla gave her a wry smile. "Is it that obvious?"
Having collected all the papers, the brunette handed them over. Kayla stood and helped the girl to her feet.
"Well technically, I'm the new girl too. But since you're even newer than me, you can totally have the title. My name's Allison, by the way."
"I'm Kayla," she said. "But you can just call me a klutz, since that's what I seem to be. I hope you're okay…"
Allison laughed, waving a dismissive hand in the air. "Yeah, I'm good. No worries. But your hand—is that a scar? Looks pretty serious. What happened?"
Without looking at her palm, Kayla knew what Allison was referring to; the star-shaped scar on the inside of her right palm. She was only surprised that no one else seemed to notice it, yet. "Uh… yeah, I guess," she laughed. "I've had it for about as long as I can remember. Couldn't really tell you what happened, exactly. Well, maybe I could, but I'm not sure if it's true or not. Long story." Kayla cringed. "Sorry, I talk a lot when I get nervous."
"It seems you and I have even more in common than being clumsy!" Allison joked. "I become Chatty Cathy the moment I get anxious, and it usually just gets worse from there. So you're on your way to lunch? Need a guide?"
"Yes please! I've been wandering around hall after hall thinking I've seen the cafeteria somewhere, but I can't remember where! It's my bad luck. I swear, I was born with it."
Smiling ruefully, Allison gestured for her to start in branching off from the present one. As they walked, she said, "So I'm guessing your first day hasn't exactly been ideal."
Kayla sighed deeply. "I've been late to every class, my locker won't seem to open, some snobby strawberry blonde kept glaring at me in Biology, and I've tripped more times than I can count. I seriously do have bad luck."
"Sounds rough," Allison commented. She grinned. "You're in for more bad luck when I offer for you to sit with me. The snobby strawberry blonde—Lydia—happens to be one of my friends."
Hand flying up to her mouth, Kayla's eyes widened. "Again, I am so sorry! I didn't realize—"
Allison held a hand up, laughing. "Trust me, she is snobby. But she's not all bad. In fact, once you get to know her, she's pretty cool. So it's okay, because I definitely had the same reaction on my first day. Although, I can't say she glared at me... Did you say something?"
"Not a thing. But if you say she's cool, then I'll take your word for it." But… is this the same Lydia that Stiles mentioned earlier. Please let it not be…
Allison pushed through burgundy double doors, leading into a room full of teenagers. The cafeteria. Silently, Kayla sighed in relief.
"So you'll sit with me, then?" Allison asked eagerly as they quickly stepped in the slow-moving lunch line.
"Sounds great." As long as I don't get my head chewed off.
After paying for their lunches, Allison led Kayla over to a table in the middle of the cafeteria. It was already filled, unfortunately, with Lydia, , a tall and dark-haired boy with kind eyes, as well as Scott and Stiles, who looked mildly surprised. Allison set her tray down next to Scott, and Stiles moved down to make room for Kayla. He seemed extra mischievous.
"Guys, this is—"Allison began.
"You," Lydia spat, her eyes narrowed and dark, piercing Kayla's. A silence fell over the table. "You're the girl who did this," she help up a brightly colored purse that looked big enough to carry a small dog in, with a questionably muddy shoe print on the side, "to my new Prada bag. I ought to have you pay for it."
Stiles choked on his water.
"Uh… are you sure I did that?" Kayla was doubtful.
Lydia almost snarled. "Who else? And what are you doing with mud all over your shoes? Hiking through the forest like some kind of animal?"
Peeking down at her tennis-shoes, Kayla internally sighed. "Well, technically, I was running…" And forgot to switch my shoes…
"You run in the woods?" Allison asked before Lydia could make another retort. "That's cool. So do I. Maybe we could go together, sometime."
Kayla couldn't help but smile at the kindness. "Yeah, that sounds like fun."
Lydia appeared perturbed. "Fun? You think loping through the woods with some kind of animal out there is fun? When you get mauled by the thing, don't expect my sympathy. I have enough common sense to realize it's a stupid idea."
"Are you really that afraid of the thing?" Kayla asked, not realizing she sounded challenging. "I doubt it'd attack in broad daylight."
Stiles started making feral meows, like they were having a catfight. Everyone gave him a dirty look.
"Well, then you obviously know nothing of mountain lions," Lydia said contemptuously, tossing her hair back over her shoulder.
"Wait—did you say mountain lions? You think that's what attacking?" Having to suppress a laugh at the idea, Kayla covered it with a haphazard cough. Straightening up, she forced herself to be very serious. Of course, not everyone knows. If they did, it wouldn't be called an animal attack, would it? "I just mean, I would think a mountain lion would be more afraid of us, you know?"
"No, I know better. I—"
"Okay," Allison broke in lightly, aware that most of the table's occupants felt ill at ease. Lydia fell into an irked silence. "So, what do you think of lacrosse, Kayla?"
"Lacrosse? You mean, like field hockey? I'm not really sure. I've never seen it played before."
"Well you won't be able to say that again," Stiles piped up beside her. He glanced at Lydia, almost too obviously before continuing. "There's a game tomorrow night. Cheer us on?"
Scott gave him a curious look. Stiles didn't exactly play…
Kayla thought this over. Of course, it'd be great to get to work on what she came here for, but wouldn't it also be nice to make friends, and maybe keep them? Plus, she figured that since Stiles really did help her the previous night, she could stick her neck out (and pray Lydia wouldn't tear it out) to help him out, too. Although, Lydia didn't seem to be paying him much mind, at the moment.
"Totally," she agreed cheerfully. "Sounds cool. I'd love to go."
Allison grinned, popping a French fry in her mouth. "So, how do your parents like Beacon Hills?"
The cheerful smile on Kayla's face disappeared in a flash. Pain stabbed at her heart, and she set down her water shakily as she tried to force the sadness away. Her throat tightened as she pressed down her emotions, locking them up tight.
"Was it something I said?" Allison asked quietly.
Clearing her throat, Kayla shook her head. "My parents… well, I didn't exactly come here with them."
"You didn't? Did they let you come here on your own?"
"That'd be awesome!" Stiles exclaimed, amped up at the idea. "No rules, freedom to live how you want. No nagging or lectures."
Kayla averted her eyes. "It's been that way for a while, actually. They passed when I was little."
Silence. It was what she'd come to expect, though with each time, the reason seemed less clear. It was simply a fact she'd had to deal with.
"I'm really sorry," Allison said gently.
"That's really rough," Scott agreed. "I mean, losing both parents…"
"How did it happen?" Stiles inquired.
"Stiles," the entire table hissed, with the surprising addition of Lydia.
Shrugging, Kayla said, "It's okay. They were, uh, researching—it was what they did—when they were attacked. Animal attack. Ironically, people thought it was the very animal they were looking into that did it. It was a couple days before anyone knew, though, since they'd been in the middle of a forest."
Allison was frowning. "That's so sad."
Lydia, however, was perturbed. "And you aren't bothered by the animal attacks here? How is that even possible?"
Kayla's shoulders lifted in another shrug. "It's not that I'm unbothered by the animal attacks. But I'm not any more worried than any of you are. As my brother always says, it is what it is."
"Maybe your brother needs an extra dose of reality," Lydia muttered under her breath.
The topic then turned to the upcoming game. Stiles turned, speaking to Kayla in a friendly banter, studiously ignoring the curious glances of the other occupants at the table. By the time lunch wrapped up, Kayla had a more optimistic perspective on making new friends. Allison wanted her to join her and Lydia at the game to cheer on the boys, and Lydia didn't seem too vexed by the suggestion.
Arriving home, Kayla scrambled to finish what little homework she'd had for the night. Karma, who'd been resting on the couch listlessly, hadn't lifted her head.
As the sun descended and the moon was mounting to take its place, Kayla had her mother's box pulled out, its contents scattered on the kitchen counter. For quite some time, she simply sat and stared at them, lost in the memories they served to show in her mind's eye. The picture of her parents, the letter meant for her written by her mother, her mother's leather bound diary that included personal thoughts as well as accounts and records of what they'd studied, and a few other baubles and trinkets mixed within them.
Her hand began reaching for the letter when Karma shot upright on the couch and immediately began barking. Flinching, Kayla swiveled around to face the dog, whose usual composure remained quiet and placid. Yet for some reason, Karma jumped off the couch and tromped over to the front door. A deep growl reverberated from her chest, and she turned into the viscous, deathly-loyal dog that Kayla knew she could be.
Things like this only occurred before something bad happened.
Kayla stood as a nervous feeling pressed its way into her chest, making her heart flutter. She headed towards the door cautiously, pausing on the way to extract the hidden pistol from the kitchen drawer. Hiding it behind her back, she nudged Karma behind her as she placed her hand on the doorknob. The gun shook in her other hand and her heart pounded wildly against her ribs as she twisted the knob and slowly opened the door.
Please let me know what you think! I'd really appreciate some responses. (-:
