Jackson Whitmore walked to his locker with nothing on but a soft white towel around his waist. He opened his locker grabbed his deodorant and thought about the scratch on his neck while he slid the stick beneath his arms.

'That Derek guy is a fucking toolbag,' he thought. His spine stiffened as he imaged Derek. He couldn't admit it to himself but Derek scared him. He didn't know if it was the fact that Derek was taller and more muscular, or if it was his magnetic stare but something about Derek made him terrified. He tossed his deodorant into his locker and slammed the door shut a little harder than was necessary. He'd been having a bad day today, mostly because he couldn't shake these feelings of helplessness he'd been having.

Last night while renting The Notebook (again) for Lydia he'd been attacked by Something. Something that had killed the guy working in the store, and Something that had almost killed him. That Something scared him more than even Derek did.

He turned to his right and saw a pair of glowing red eyes. He felt his stomach clench, as if it were swallowing itself and his throat followed suit. The eyes were coming closer and he found it hard to breathe as the Something from last night came closer toward him. He backed away slowly, but his feet had become heavy with fear. He took one last breath before the eyes pushed through the steam, ready to take his life.

Instead of the Something, a human shape came out of the steam; it was just one of the guys from the team wearing light-up headphones. He sighed, all of his fear departing with the exhalation of humid air.

'What a stupid fucking pair of headphones' he thought to himself. He turned around to leave when he saw Derek standing right in front of him. He felt his body jump back and his back slam against his locker.

"I-I don't know where Scott is," he heard himself say. He could feel his scrotum tightening as if his balls were trying to get back inside his body. The scratch on the back of his neck started to sting.

"I'm not here for Scott, I'm here for you," Derek said, his crystal eyes staring through him. Derek moved toward him and he could feel himself push back against the locker, as if there were any way for him to escape. If Derek wanted him he knew he could have him; he wasn't even sure what that meant exactly, but he could feel in the tightness of his stomach that it was true.

"Wh-why me? I-I didn't do anything."

"No, but you saw something. Didn't you?" Derek growled, moving even closer. He could feel that there was something powerful about Derek. He was a man, and more man than anyone he'd ever met before. It was the heavy brow, the subtle stubble, the broad, masculine shoulders. He closed his eyes for a moment, hoping that it was some sort of hallucination, but when he opened them he was still face to face with Derek.

"No, I didn't see anything," he said.

"What was it? An animal, a mountain lion?" Derek moved closer still. He was now close enough that Jackson could smell his cologne, and something more. There was something more to Jackson and he could smell it; the smell made him more afraid than he'd been before.

"I didn't see anything. I swear I-I'm not lying," he said. He hadn't actually seen anything. Just the glowing red eyes.

"Then calm down and say it again," Derek said.

"Say what, that I'm not lying?" Jackson asked, unable to think clearly.

"Tell me that you didn't see anything." Derek said, his mouth inches from Jackson's. "Slowly." Jackson could barely get the words out, but he knew that he had to.

"I didn't see anything. I'm not lying," he said, each word almost painful to utter. He glanced at Derek's eyes, but Derek was concentrating on something else, as if he were reading his mind. Derek pulled away from him, his face seemed satisfied. Jackson felt slightly calmed by Derek's slight change in expression.

"One more thing," Derek said, grabbing Jackson by his hair and pulling his head toward him, burying it into his chest. His fear returned in full blast, like a bucket of cold water hitting him over the shoulders. "You should really get that checked out," Derek said; Jackson could feel his warm breath hitting the back of his neck. It was almost soothing to the cuts, the first relief he'd had on them in days. He inhaled sharply and caught another strong sample of Derek's scent just as Derek released him from his grip.

He watched as Derek walked away, fading into the steam of the locker room. He stood there against his locker, shaking waiting for his nerves to return to him. Once they had, and his breathing returned to normal he slammed his fists against his locker and clenched his teeth. He couldn't stand that Derek had emasculated him yet again, made him feel like a weakling, in his own locker room. School was his domain, and Derek had made it his.

It was then that he realized what Derek smelled like; like the Something that had attacked him in the video store. He shuddered and started to get dressed.

'This is all McCall's fault,' he thought to himself, as he slid his boxers on. Ever since McCall had entered his life things had been getting more and more fucked up with each day.

"Hey man, what's going on?" Danny asked him in the hallway where Jackson was waiting, hoping to run into McCall and maybe terrorize him. Danny had been Jackson's best friend since middle school. He looked into Danny's face and saw that he had his concerned look on. Ever since Danny had come out to him he could tell that he'd had a little bit of a crush on him. It kind of weirded him out but it wasn't a big deal.

"Nothing," Jackson said, starting to walk away.

"Bro, come on you can tell me about what happened. You've been acting weird the past few days," Danny said, following his friend. "If something's wrong you can talk to me."

"Dude, don't be so gay," Jackson said, without even looking at Danny.

"Woah," Danny said, putting his hand on Jackson's shoulder and pulling him back to face him. "Not cool dude. What's that about?"

"Nothing," Jackson said, clenching his fist. His scratch was starting to sting again. "I just need… some time, dude," he said, trying to calm himself down. He turned and started walking away again, this time Danny didn't try to follow.

Later that night, Jackson had decided to practice Lacrosse out in the woods near his house. His parents weren't home because it was parent-teacher conference night so he grabbed some beers to take along with him. It wasn't long before he was drunk, and it became harder and harder to make his goal, a can he'd nailed to a tree.

He knew that if he had the juice that McCall was working with he'd be making these shots, despite how drunk he was. He wasn't completely gone, but it was getting hard for him to stand up straight. He took another shot at the can and missed. As the ball bounced against the tree he felt his rage boil up inside him. He grabbed the beer he was working on and threw it as hard as he could at the tree, a small bit of solace coming from the sound of the bottle smashing against the trunk.

He fell to his knees and ran his hands through his hair. He needed to be the best.

'If I'm not the best then what am I?' he thought to himself, clenching his teeth. 'Not good enough for Lydia. Not good enough to be captain. Not good enough for my parents, not good enough for anyone.' He sat there on the ground, not weak enough to let himself cry, for a few minutes before deciding that he should probably get home.

He stood up, staggering a bit and started to walk toward his car when he felt some leaves crunch nearby him. He looked to his left to see what had made the noise.

It was Derek.