WISHING ON SILVER LININGS

CHAPTER ONE


When Shay walks into her previously empty room to find two boys arguing on her bed, she isn't at all surprised.

A boy with a buzz cut waves his hands as he whispers loudly to his very annoyed but very amused partner in crime. By the way they hadn't taken off their sweaters or shoes, she knows that they are about to drag her into some sort of mischief. Shay takes a deep breath, counts to ten, and frowns as she closes the door harder than she should have. The two boys on her bed jump to their feet in seconds, both talking a mile a minute over each other. She quickly silences them with a raised hand.

These are your best friends, Stiles and Scott. You did this to yourself.

"What the heck are you guys doing here?" Shay hisses, locking the door to her room before getting any closer. "And would you keep it down?! My mom is asleep in the other room. You know how thin these walls are."

"Shay!" Stiles grins. "You'll never guess-"

"I probably will," she interrupts.

"-what we're about to do!"

When he doesn't elaborate, Shay rolls her eyes. "You want me to guess, don't you?"

"Yup."

"Ugh, fine. Okay… Is it something spooky? Like a mystery or something?"

Scott nods excitedly from where he is sitting. "That's actually pretty close."

"Well," Shay mumbles," with mystery usually comes murder. Oh my god, are we going to solve a murder?"

"Not solve, my dear Shay, investigate. My dad got a call about how two late night joggers found half of a body in the woods! We gotta go check it out." The way Stiles says it, like doing this would make their entire night, has Shay already feeling regret. Leave it to Stiles to rope them into crazy shenanigans like finding a dead boy. Or, well, half a dead body.

She softly nudges her foot against Scott's leg. "And you? I thought you says you wanted your beauty sleep for the big day tomorrow. What if you get tired during practice?"

Scott gives her a sheepish smile and shrugs. "This seemed a little bit cooler than sleeping."

"Wow, what an answer, Scottie."

"So you're coming, right?" Stiles presses. Both boys lean forward as she presses her head against the door.

Shay groans. They are doing it again. And by it, she means the way Stiles and Scott both press their hands together in begging pleas, eyes big and lips pouted. Just the sight of the two of them – sixteen and pouting like ridiculous four year olds – has her laughing as she caves. The first day of school is tomorrow; tonight could be the last time she has any bit of fun. Pushing herself away from her door, Shay puts her ear to the wall of her room. There is no noise from the other side – that means her mom is still asleep. That leaves her plenty of time to sneak out and then sneak back it. Because, really, she knows that they aren't going to be finding a body out there in the woods. Three teenagers fumbling around in the dark? They'd probably end up being the bodies found.

"Fine! But if I get killed, just know that I'm haunting you both."

Stiles gives a thumbs up and Scott laughs at her.

Shay tugs on her sneakers and pull-over sweater, not bothering to change out of her black yoga pants, before shoving them both out of her room. The three of them tiptoe into the living room and out onto the small fire escape, Shay shutting the window behind her. One by one, they slide down the cold, wet ladders and onto the hood of the Jeep. They'd done this a thousand times before – Stiles and Scott climbing up her fire escape with a boost from the hood and forcing her out of the window to tag along on whatever sort of quest they'd be going on that day. Usually, it isn't as late at night, or as cold. Shay pulls her sweater closer to her body right. They can see their breaths in the air, for crying out loud.

"Stiles, I am never forgiving you for dragging me out into the cold wilderness," Shay swears as she and Scott climb into Stile's sketchy jeep after her. To anyone else it would have appeared fine, but Shay knows the truth. The car is running on super glue, duct tape, and a lot of pieces of chewed gum. A death trap on wheels.

"Don't be a killjoy. C'mon, this is exciting! Be excited," Stiles laughs, turning on the Jeep and taking off down the alley they'd parked in.

Stiles and Scott talk about lacrosse all the way to the preserve. Shay doesn't even try and keep up with their fast paced voices, laying herself out on the backseat and wishing she'd brought a thicker sweater. The three of them had all promised to join the team in freshman year and now promised to make first line this year. Well, Scott and Stiles promised to make first line. She managed to get a spot as goalie in the last semester of freshman year after their senior goalie had moves. It had caused controversy between the team – half the team, led by some of the senior players, had says she'd only gotten the position because of her status as the only female there while the other half fought on her behalf and know that she got it because of how fast she is in catching the balls. Scott and Stiles are the two that fought the hardest to let her stay as goalie.

She sits up and reaches to grasp Scott's shoulder and flick Stiles' ear. Scott stops mid-sentence and looks back at her.

"You'll make first line. I know you will, Superman."

Scott blinks at her before flashing her a smile and putting his hand over hers. "Thanks, Wonder Woman."

"Uh, excuse me! What about me, Batman? Where's my pep talk, Shay?" Stiles whines, turning into the road that leads into the preserve. Trees surround them and the only source of light is the headlights of the Jeep and the light of the moon. The darkness unsettles her.

Shay pinches his arm as they park, quickly scrambling out of the car to keep from being seen by anyone. "I was talking to both of you, loser."

"Yeah, sure you were!"

Shay pushes him to lead the way. Scott takes a puff of his inhaler before he follows his bickering friends.

"Are we seriously doing this?" Scott asks.

"You're the one that's always bitching that nothing ever happens in this town!" Stiles reminds him, turning on his flashlight. Scott sighs but says nothing.

Leaves crunch under the weight of their footsteps, twigs snapping at random times. Each snap makes Shay jump, nerves winding up tighter and tighter the further they walk into the preserve. Stiles laughs but only rubs her back comfortingly.

"Scaredy cat," he mocks.

"Leave me alone," Shay shoots back with no bite. She helps Scott climb up a hill, pulling him along by the arm. "Hey, Stiles?"

Says boy turns around," Yeah, buddy?"

"Just out of curiosity, which half of the body are we looking for?"

A moment of silence. "Uh…hadn't thought of that."

"And what if the killer is still out here?" Scott puts in.

"Didn't think of that either."

"Stiles!" Scott curses. "We're out here blind!"

"It's comforting to know you've planned this out with your usual attention to detail," Shay sighs.

As they climb, Scott stops, leaning against the trunk of a tree. He pulls out and shakes his inhaler, taking a quick puff. Shay stands in front of him, fixing his hood. She knows that the cold air is making it harder for him to breathe, what with his asthma. She turns to look at Stiles, who keeps on walking.

"Hey, just a thought, but maybe the severe asthmatic should be the one holding the flashlight, huh?" she calls. Stiles continues to walk.

She waits until Scott gives her a nod for them to race after their friend. Right when they catch up, Stiles pulls them both down to the dirt by their sweaters. Shay angrily pinches him, but Stiles only points in front of them. Several police officers walk in a row, flashlights flickering all over the place. Dogs bark loudly at their sides.

"Stiles! They have dogs!"

"Yeah, I see that!" Stiles bites out, struggling to shut off his flashlight.

"Now what?" Scott groans.

Stiles grins at them both and then launches himself up on his feet, dashing into the trees.

"Wait, Stiles!" Shay hisses, but he's gone. "God dammit, come on, Scott. We gotta go!"

Shay takes off after Stiles, pulling Scott close to her so they don't lose each other. The police come closer and closer as they run, the barks becoming louder with every step they take. Shay's heart is going crazy in her chest. If they are caught by the police, they'll call her mom. She could already see the anger and disappointment in her mother's young face as she would rub her temples like she always does when she gets stressed. She knows her mom has a lot on her plate as it is: taking care of her while trying to keep them afloat in the small apartment they share. Getting taken into the police station would add a ton of stress that she knows her mom can't really handle. They can't get caught. She can't.

"Stiles!" she tries one more time as he comes back into view.

Stiles turns at the urgent sound of her voice but quickly trips as a bright light and a dog are right in front of him. The dog leaps at him, snapping its sharp teeth at his chin. Shay and Scott both freak and press together behind a tree. Shay's front is pressed to Scott's and she covers his mouth with her hand. She doesn't want anyone to hear his heavy breathing and slight wheeze. Scott looks at her with panicked eyes as a familiar voice brakes through the trees.

"Hang on. This little delinquent belongs to me," comes the tired voice of Sheriff Stilinksi.

"Crap," Shay curses against Scott's ear. He grabs the hand covering his mouth and squeezes.

"Dad, how are you doing?" Stiles says casually. To anyone else, he would seem innocent. Unluckily, Shay knows the sheriff can see through his son better than either her or Scott.

Shay peaks over the tree to see the sheriff staring at his son, hair and jacket wet from the light rain. Stiles fidgets around, clothes a bit muddy from his fall.

"So," starts the sheriff," do you listen in to all my phone calls?

"No," Stiles quickly assures him. At the glare his father gives him, Stiles sighs," Not the boring ones."

The sheriff nods, as if he isn't at all surprised by his son's answer. Of course he wouldn't be; out of everyone that knows how snoopy Stiles gets, the sheriff is the one that knows it best. Shay moves her head back into the shadows of the tree, ear pressed against Scott's shoulder, as the sheriff looks beyond Stiles and into the area that the two of them are hiding.

"And where are your usual partners in crime?"

"Who, Scott and Shay? Scott's home. He, uh, wanted to get a good night's rest before school tomorrow. Shay's having a movie night with her mom. It's just me. In the woods…alone."

Smooth, Stilinski, real smooth.

Apparently, the sheriff doesn't seem to think so. He picks up his flashlight and shines it their way. Shay suppresses a gasp by shoving her face in Scott's collar, squeezing her eyes shut.

"Scott, you out there? Is Shannon with you?"

Thunder rumbles above them, drowning out their fast breathing. Scott squirms against her and Shay pinches his side in warning. He instantly stops moving, but his heart keeps racing. Their silence and discomfort pays off; the sheriff puts his flashlight down and turns his attention back to Stiles. With a quick breath, Shay peaks again to see him dragging Stiles away by the back of the neck.

"Well, young man, I'm gonna walk you back to your car, and then you and I are gonna have a talk about invasion of privacy."

Shay watches them go for a while until she is sure there is no one else around. Slowly, she backs away from Scott, taking back her hand and putting some much needed distance between them. Scott pulls out his inhaler and inhales another puff. She can't blame him. Right now, she feels like she needs an inhaler, too. Scott bangs his head against the tree in frustration.

"We have to get out of here," Scott sighs.

"I was following Stiles. I don't know which way is which."

"Then we just retrace our steps," Scott suggests. "Yeah, okay. So they went that way… so that means we go this way!"

Shay doesn't bother arguing, too cold and too nervous to even think of anything better. She jogs to catch up to Scott, who has already begun walking away in a random direction. He holds out his hand for her to take, like he knows her smaller legs can't keep up with him. Later, she promises herself, she'd remind him who the fastest out of their trio is, but right then she just wants to find the main road and go home.

They walk for so long, Shay feels her fingers going numb from the cold. Birds fly over them with every boom of thunder. She is grateful that the storm doesn't completely fall over them yet. Being stuck out in drizzle is one thing – being stuck out in a storm is another.

"Scott, where are we?" she asks, stepping over a large branch.

"Uh, we are walking back to the main road."

"You don't sound so sure."

"Honestly? I'm not."

Shay laughs despite her nerves.

They walk on for a while longer before Scott comes to an abrupt stop. His hand tightens around Shay's as he looks off into the dark. Dread fills every one of Shay's veins, the cold feeling leaving her shivering.

Right as she is about to say his name, a thundering noise came out from in front of them. Dozens of deer race toward them, going at a speed that showed obvious fear. She is on Scott in seconds. Pulling the boy down and covering his head with her arms, Shay bends over his body with her own. Deer jump and run all around them. Some trip over each other in their haste. The sound of their hooves against the ground is like thunder from the oncoming rain – loud and dangerous. Scott holds her tight in panic.

The deer are gone as quickly as they had come. Shay and Scott hold each other shakily as they stand. They stare after the herd as it disappear into the trees behind them.

"W-What in the hell?" Shay breathes. What could have possibly spooked them so bad?

"Oh no."

"What's wrong?"

Scott takes out his phone and flashes the dim light at the ground. "I lost my inhaler."

"Ugh, really, Scott?"

"Hey, we were about to be trampled to death. Not my fault." Scott lets out an irritated grunt, kicking leaves around the ground. "You look over there and I'll look over here."

Shay follows his lead and takes out her own phone. Even with her phone flashlight being brighter than Scott's screen, she can't find it.

"Scottie, I'm not seeing-"

"Shay!"

Scott's startled scream forces her body to run his way, hand reaching out to grab hold of his arm. "What, what?"

The boy stares at the floor in silence. Confused, Shay follows his gaze until she saw it. All the blood in her body runs cold and terror floods her mind.

Because on the ground lays the other half of the body they'd been looking for. The girl's face is blank, eyes wide but hold no life and her mouth hangs open – as if she was screaming before she died. Tears sting the backs of Shay's eyes. The poor girl doesn't deserve this, whoever she is. No one deserves to die like that.

"We gotta go," Shay says. She and Scott step back.

"She-She's...she-" Another step back.

"Scott, we gotta-"

And then they are falling.

Sharp rocks and twigs dig into the skin of Shay's back as she falls backwards down a hill, head hitting the hard ground with a sick thud. Scott falls over sideways in a roll that doesn't sound at all good. Their legs tangle as they go, keeping them close but still has them tumbling down. Seconds later they are finally at the bottom, groaning and cursing. With more effort than either of them have, Shay manages to stand and help Scott to his feet. Her friend wheezes as he mumbles and gasps, clutching onto her sweater.

"We have to tell Stiles," he says between heavy breaths.

"Forget Stiles, we gotta go, Scott! That girl was ripped in half!"

Scott doesn't reply. When Shay looks up from her bloodied hand, he is staring at something behind her. His eyes are round, pupils tiny against his brown irises, and his bottom lip quivers with small sounds coming from his parted mouth. He looks absolutely terrified. She slowly starts to turn her head.

It happens within seconds.

Shay isn't able to turn fully before she is pushed down to the ground. She screams in pain as something digs into her shoulder, something like claws. They yank at her skin, pulling her away, before letting go. Scott is screaming at that point, too. He is thrown where she is dragged, pulling her up and then they are sprinting, feet going a mile a minute. Shay feels herself becoming weaker and weaker with every step, a dizzy feeling fogging up her mind. Her shoulder hurt so badly. But Scott doesn't let her stop running. Not when they hit the road, not even when they are almost run over by a car. He only stops when she finally slipped on the wet pavement of the road, crashing down onto her knees.

"Scott," she struggles to say," just give me a second. I can't- my shoulder-"

Scott kneels beside her and carefully moves the blood soaked fabric of her pull over. Shay lets out a hiss, feeling the torn skin stretch with the movement. Scott looks from her wound to her face.

"I-It doesn't look so bad."

"L-Liar," Shay manages to laugh out.

Scott smiles a little, but it doesn't last long, mouth twisting into a wince. He lets go of her and lifts his own shirt and sweater to reveal large puncture wounds. It looks like a really big bite. Scott carefully pokes around the wounds, whimpering in pain.

"You get bit and I get stabbed. How unfair is that?" Shay winces.

A howl fills the silence, coming in all directions of the woods. The sound sends a feeling Shay has never feels before down her spine, forcing her head to look up at the moon. Everything feels – off. But, she reasons, that could just be the blood loss. She hauls herself into a hunched stand using Scott's shoulder to hoist herself to her feet. He steadies her with his hands on her elbows.

"Let's go to Deaton's," she says weakly. "Patch ourselves up there before either of our parents see us."

"Right. Right, yeah." Scott moves her good arm over his shoulders.

The walk to the animal hospital is long and filled with terrified silence. Neither of them speak when they arrive or as Scott patches them up with disinfectant and gauze. All Shay can think about is the sound of the howl.

It hadn't sounded like the call of a wild animal.

To Shay, it had sounded like a laugh.

||/\\||

It isn't her alarm that wakes Sky the next morning. It is the familiar ringtone of a robotic voice saying "woof, woof" over and over again. Scott is calling.

Shay scrambles for the phone, sliding the answer button as fast as she can, and holds her breath when it finally lets her answer. The other line stays quiet as she settled her breathing.

"Hey," she greets. Her voice shakes a little.

"Hey," Scott sighs. "How's your shoulder?"

Shay rolls her shoulder and hums. "Doesn't really hurt anymore. Guess your time with Deaton really is useful."

"Ha ha," Scott scoffs. "You know Stiles is going to want to see it."

"Of course he is. And you know that when I see Stiles, he's gonna get it."

"Oh, definitely."

They both know that she isn't going to do anything to Stiles. It isn't his fault that the sheriff had found him or that some weird ass animal decided that she and Scott would be its midnight snack. She can't even hold over the fact that it had been his idea to go looking for the body because she could have said no and just stayed home. But, honestly, she knows she could never say no to Stiles. Not when he looked so excited. It is a weakness she is still fighting to overcome.

"I'll be at school in thirty. Wait for me in the front just in case I hurt myself while I hurt Stiles."

Scott laughs. "Alright, meet you at the stairs?"

"You got it." They both hang up.

Her phone vibrates with an alert of a text message. It is from Stiles.

FROM: HAIRY STILES

please tell me you didnt bleed out last night while you slept.

Shay can't help but let out a small laugh.

TO: HAIRY STILES

still breathing as far as I can tell. youre so going to get it when I see you Stiles.

FROM: HAIRY STILES

hurry up and get to school ! I need to know if youre horribly disfigured now.

TO: HAIRY STILES

not more than usual . and youre the one that's going to be disfigured !

FROM: HAIRY STILES

just hurry up Shay !

Shay makes quick work of getting ready, brushing her teeth and pulling up her hair in less time than she usually does. She doesn't bother putting effort into picking an outfit. If she wanted to make a first impression, at least she should be honest. The bandages on her shoulder are going to be hard to hide. Throwing on a pair of black joggers, another old pull over, and her converse, Shay shoves her phone in her backpack and grabs her lacrosse stick before rushing out the door and to the kitchen.

Her mother is waiting there for her. She looks up from where she is skimming through an article on her IPad with a large smile. It is still a little shocking that her mother is only thirty-one years old. Beth Jansen had Shay when she was only fifteen. They practically grew up together, even going to the same pediatrician for a few years. Beth's face is practically wrinkle free, hair still its rich dark color. It is like living with a twenty year old rather than a thirty-one year old. Shay is just glad that she inherited most of her looks from her mother – having the same thick, dark hair, light eyes, and olive skin. What she doesn't inherit is the morning person trait.

"Good morning, sunshine!" her mother sing-songs happily.

"Morning, mom," Shay yawns.

Her mother pushes a bowl already filled with cereal and the carton of milk Shay's way as she sits down, fighting the wince from her hidden injuries. Pouring the milk into the bowl without making a face is hard without her mother pressing her hands to Shay's shoulder in a tight hug.

"First day of your sophomore year! Are you nervous?"

"Not really." All of her fear was used up last night.

"Well," her mother claps," finish your breakfast so that we can go. It would be horrible if we are late on the first day back." Tardiness is always an issue when your mother is the art teacher for your high school.

"Yeah, mom. Absolutely terrible."

||/\\||

Shay and her mother split up right as they get out of the car. Beth gives her daughter a quick kiss and hug good luck before practically running inside to sign in. Her mother is far too excited for the new school year. Shay spots Scott immediately and jogs over to where he is bent down beside his bike.

"I still don't understand why you don't get a ride from Stiles. Like, riding a bike to school isn't cool."

"If I get a ride from him, I'd have to wake up a half an hour earlier than I do now. Half an hour. Some of us believe in sleep, Shay."

Shay raises her hands in surrender while Scott finishes chaining his bike to the rack. She adjusts her lacrosse stick on her backpack right as a car pulls up next to them. Wait, she knows that car.

CRAP!

"Scott, just act natural, just act-!"

The door opens and promptly smacks against Scott's backpack. Shay feels her cheeks heat up in embarrassment. She takes a deep breath, balls her hands into fists, and gives her best smile as Jackson Whittemore gets out of his Porsche, looking as handsome and as cool as ever. Her heart races and her blood boils with a sort of adrenaline that only Jackson is able to give her. Not even lacrosse has her heart beating as fast or as hard as it does whenever Jackson is around.

The lacrosse captain frowns at Scott with an annoyed look. "Dude, watch the paint job."

Scott blinks at him and then turns to blink at Shay.

Okay, be cool, Shay. "H-Hey, Jackson!"

Jackson looks at her with less of an intense glare. "Jansen." His eyes flick down to her chest. Shay feels the world spin out of control. "A baseball sweatshirt? Coach would be ashamed."

"Well, it is the all American sport. Can't go wrong there."

He doesn't bother answering her, already turning to walk towards his friends.

When he is a good ways away from them, Shay lets out a dreamy sigh and calls out a soft," I love you, too!"

From beside her, Scott rolls his eyes and shakes his head in disappointment. "I still don't get what you see in that guy."

"Dashing good looks, amazing lacrosse skills, and a butt load of money. What's not to love?"

"How about his high and mighty attitude?" Scott suggests.

Shay sends Scott a cheeky smile. "Details, details."

They don't walk far before Stiles jogs over to them. Shay can tell he is excited to see their wounds by the way he bounces on the balls of his feet and glances at their wounded areas. Shay steps toward him with a smile only to bring her fist down hard on his own shoulder, the exact one she'd been scratched.

"Uh, ow!"

Shay jabs her finger into his chest with a scoff. "Try feeling that but times twenty!"

Letting out a soft coo, Stiles wraps his arm loosely around her, mindful of her shoulder. "Alright, let's see these fatal wounds you guys keep crying about."

Shay presses her head against his shoulder and watches as Scott lifted up his shirt to show them the bandage on his side. There are a few bloodstains, but it isn't too bad. Stiles pulls away slightly to look down expectantly at her. Shay pulls down the collar of her sweater with a sigh, letting her two best friends stare at her bandage. Stiles lets out an impressed whistle.

"Less blood than I thought there'd be," Stiles says.

"Sorry to disappoint you," laughs Shay.

"Any idea what attacked you guys?"

"It was too dark to see, but I'm pretty sure it is a wolf," Scott supplies easily.

Stiles scrunches up his face in disbelief. "A wolf bit you?"

"It's what he saw," Shay says and pulls them to start walking, the three of them walking in a row together. Teens walk around them, some shooting dirty looks their way for taking up most of the path. Shay meets their glares with smiles.

"No, not a chance," Stiles keeps saying.

"We heard a wolf howling. Like, a really loud howl," Shay insists.

Stiles lets out a laugh. "No, no you didn't."

"Stiles, you weren't there. How do you know what we heard? We both heard it."

"Because," he says matter-of-factly," California doesn't have wolves, okay? Hasn't for like sixty years."

They walk up the stairs to the main entrance doors but Stiles jumps to block them.

Scott glances at Shay and when all she did is shrug looks back to Stiles. "Really?"

"Yes, really. There are no wolves in California."

Feeling the tension start to rise, Shay sighs and slumps against Stiles, looking to Scott with dramatic eyes and presses the back of her hand to her forehead. "Just think, Scott. If Stiles doesn't believe us about the wolf, how could he possibly believe that we found the other half of the body? Woe is we."

Like she'd flipped a switch, Stiles is spinning her around and looking directly into her eyes. His grin is face splitting. "Are you joking? You better not be joking!" He looks to his best friend for conformation.

Scott shakes his head with a smile, but Shay sees the way his eyes dim a bit, flashes of his terrified expression from last night coming back. "I wish. I'm going to be having nightmares for a month."

Stiles throws his fist in the air and hugs Shay close. "That is friggin' awesome! I mean this is seriously gonna be the best thing that's happened in this town since-" Instantly Shay is thrown from Stiles' arms and into Scott's. They look at each other with raised brows.

"-since the birth of Lydia Martin!" Oh, that's why.

"Hey, Lydia! You look-," the redhead walks briskly passed the three of them without even sparing Stiles a glance,"-like you're going to ignore me."

"Woah, pure murder," Shay whispers loudly to Scott. He laughs as Stiles stomps his foot and glares at the two of them.

"You're both the cause of this, you know. Draggin' me down to your nerd depths. I'm now a nerd by association. I've been scarlet nerded by you two."

Shay pats Stiles' back with a smug grin. "Doubtful. At least Jackson spoke to me today. Get on my level, Stilinski."

Stiles repeats her words in a high pitched, whiny voice that leaves both Scott and Shay cackling. Despite what happened last night, nothing feels different. It looks like it is going to be just another boring day in Beacon Hills.

||/\\||

Shay doesn't have first period with Scott or Stiles, getting stuck with math class while they both went off to English. They separate after a dramatic farewell in front of Scott and Stiles' classroom – Stiles gets down on both knees and vows that they would "only be parted for a short while, my dear one". Shay pinches his nose and gives both boys tight hugs. Shay has to jog to make it to her class just in time for the bell to ring right as she closes the door behind her.

The class is full when she walks in. The only seat available is in the back corner where a brunette girl has her nose buried in a thick book. Great, she is going to sit next to the smart kid that would have her self-esteem plummeting to zero. Shay makes her way to the desk with a polite smile to her teacher. The moment she slips into the chair, the girl beside her jumps, peeking out from behind the pages of her book and the thick, dark frames of her glasses. Shay gives her a small smile. The girl hurriedly looks away as the teacher starts talking.

Well, that's odd.

For the rest of the period, Shay and the girl play a weird game of look-see, glancing at each other and looking away before the other could catch them. The teacher's monotonous voice drones on in the background, leaving Shay restless and sleepy. Tilting her head back, she boldly turns her face to the girl beside her and waits until the brunette looks her way again to send her a friendly wave. The girl snaps her head forward so fast Shay thinks it would fall off. Just as she is about to laugh, loud thudding erupted in her ears. Shay looks away from the girl and covers her ears, glancing around wildly to find the source of the noise. No one else seems to hear what she is hearing – the sound almost like a racing heartbeat. When Shay turns to the girl next to her, she notices how her hand is pressed against her chest and her cheeks are pink.

Is… is she hearing the girl's heartbeat?

"Hey," she whispers, leaning forward to hide behind the person in front of her.

The thudding spikes right as the girl makes eye contact with her. "H-Hello."

Okay, that is weird. That is really, really weird. Shay swallows thickly and manages to keep up a smile with some effort. She can't freak out here. Everyone would think she's a freak. But if I'm hearing heartbeats, then maybe I am.

Shay keeps quiet the remainder of the period. She can feel the burn of the girl's stare from time to time, but doesn't make any move to look back at her. Her own eyes are glued to the blank paper on her desk where she should have been writing her math notes.

When the bell rang, it feels like it is ringing right inside of her ears. Shay winces in obvious pain and covered her ears with her hands. She doesn't move until the noise stops. By then, almost everyone is out of the class. Almost.

A body stops right by her desk. "Are you alright?"

Shay looks up into the concerned yet shy eyes of the girl she'd been sitting next to.

"Yeah…yeah, I think so." I hope so.

Shay shakes her head and stands, slinging her backpack over her good shoulder as she and the girl make their way out of the classroom. "I'm Shannon Jansen, by the way. But you can just call me Shay."

"M-My name is Margo," the girl – Margo – replies. She doesn't say a last name.

"You look a bit young. Are you a freshman taking sophomore math?"

Margo's face went red. "Uhm, no. I'm a sophomore."

Shay blinks in surprise. But the girl looks so young! "No way, really?"

"Yeah, I-" Margo pauses as her cheeks flush redder and she looks away. "I'm supposed to be a junior but was held back a year."

"Oh, I get you. Failed too many classes? Skipped a bunch?"

"N-No, was just sick a lot."

"That sucks," Shay sympathizes. "So being held back a year. Guess that means you don't have many friends in your classes."

Margo only shrugs, looking at the floor like it would save her. Shay feels for her; if she didn't have Scott or Stiles in any of her classes, she would probably have zero friends. The three of them had been together since middle school when they saw her take a plunge on her skateboard and called an ambulance when it is clear she'd broken an arm. After that, they'd been inseparable. It is clear that Margo doesn't have friends with her.

"Hey, mind if I see your schedule?"

Margo pulls out the folded paper from her messenger bag, handing it over. Shay does a quick scan of it and compares it to her own, having memorized it two days before. If she remembered right, then that means she and Margo share three more classes, and their lunch period. Shay gives the paper back with a grin.

"Looks like you're in luck, Margo! We have classes together. You can thank the high sky for it later, but right now, we need to get to our lockers before the bell."

She doesn't give Margo a chance to respond. Shay grabs the strap of her messenger bag and lead her to her own locker, pushing her math book in and taking her chemistry book out. Margo timidly leads the way to her own locker with the encouragement of a smiling Shay.

Right as they are about to turn the corner, Margo freezes. She flattens her body against the metal of the lockers, panic etched on her face.

"Hey, what's wrong?" Shay asks.

Margo looks at her through the dark of her lashes, but only shakes her head. "N-Nothing."

"Can't be so bad," Shay dismisses, walking around the corner.

Jackson is standing there, smirking at the girl under his arm and the girl she's is talking to. Lydia Martin – girlfriend of Jackson Whittemore since the very start of freshman year. Shay had always envied her looks and position under Jackson's arm, but knows that for all she is, Lydia has a black heart. She doesn't get why either Jackson or Stiles are so in to her. Especially Stiles – he is an amazing, funny, kind person that could do a lot better than Lydia. Shay glances to the right and sees Scott and Stiles – the former staring intently at the stranger with Lydia and Jackson while the latter argues with one of their friends from freshman year.

"Even you know to keep away from them," Shay huffs. "Let's just wait until they leave."

Margo peeks around the corner and doesn't move until Lydia and Jackson tug the other girl away down the hall. The brunette stares after them with an emotion Shay can't really read. She nudges her new friend, snapping the girl out of whatever haze she'd been thrown in.

"C'mon. Let's get your books and we can go to class. Then I can introduce you to my friends."

Margo takes a deep breath and gives a meek nod. The girl seriously has some social anxiety. Shay pats her arm and follows her not too far away from where Lydia and Jackson had been. Stiles and Scott wave her over as she passes them, but Shay only points at Margo and holds up a finger. The boys nod and lean against the lockers, waiting for her.

They grab Margo's books and head straight over, the boys meeting them half way. Introducing Margo to Scott and Stiles goes smoothly. Scott smiles warmly – if a tad distractedly – while Stiles narrows and widens his eyes. It's like he knows her, but if he does, he doesn't say anything.

"Guys," Shay begins," this is my new friend, Margo. She's taking classes with us common folk. Margo, this is Scott McCall and Stiles Stilinski."

Margo gives them a shy wave but doesn't say anything else. Her face is partially covered by her red flush and dark glasses.

Stiles takes a step forward and says," What did you say your last name was again?"

Margo opens her mouth to reply as the bell rings overhead. Shay winces at the shrill sound. "C'mon, we get to get to history. Stop being so nosy, Stiles. Let Margo have some mystery to her."

"I prefer to be called curious."

That had Margo laughing quietly, eyes hidden behind her thick black glasses. Shay laughs with her and the four of them hurry to their shared class.

Maybe the day wouldn't be so ordinary.

||/\\||

After school, Shay invites Margo to go watch the lacrosse practice, but is politely declined. The girl takes one look at their uniforms and starts backing up.

"I-I can't," Margo says. "My dad, he's going to come pick me up and then we have to go out to dinner and-"

Shay quiets her ramblings with a firm hand on her shoulder. "Hey, hey! Relax, it's all good. Lacrosse isn't everyone's thing. At least let me give you my number."

Margo nods, pulling out her ridiculously expensive phone. Shay plugs in her number as well as Scott's and Stiles', handing it back with a wink and a grin. Margo reddens at the boys' names on her contact list but smiles shyly before practically running away. Scott and Stiles call out their goodbyes as they walk toward the lacrosse field, Shay in tow.

"But, Scott, if you get first line, then I'll have no one to talk to on the bench!" Stiles says as they walk on to the field. "Are you really gonna do that to your best friend? Shay practically won't talk to us because she's too cool now."

"Shut it, Stilinski," Shay laughs.

"See! She's already starting to sound like her boyfriend!"

Scott laughs at the two of them, balancing his lacrosse stick over his shoulder. "I can't sit out again. My whole life is sitting on the sidelines. This season I'm making first line."

"Yeah, Stiles," adds Shay childishly. Stiles sticks out his tongue at her with a playful shove. She pushes him back and right as they are about to pounce on each other, a loud voice stops them. They pull away from each other hastily as Coach Finstock walk over.

"Jansen," he greets, handing her a regular lacrosse stick. "Get your helmet and get ready to throw some shots."

"On it, Coach!"

His mouth shifts into a serious frown as he looks over to Scott, tossing him a helmet and Shay's goalie stick. "McCall, you're on goal today."

Shay, Scott, and Stiles look at each other in confusion.

"But, I never play," Scott argues.

"I know," says the coach. "Scoring some shots will give the team a confidence boost. It's a first day back thing."

"But Coach-!" Shay yells.

"Jansen, you know if I put you in goalie, you're just going to catch most of the shots. The team needs to get energized, fired up!"

"Well, what about me?" Scott pleads weakly.

"Try not to take any in the face," the coach says dismissively. He gives Shay a quick head pat and then is off screaming encouragements to the rest of the team. Shay turns to Scott, placing both hands on his shoulders. The boy looks down at her and takes deep breaths, glancing up at the stands every few seconds.

"Listen, it's really not that hard. Just watch the ball and move two seconds before they throw it. Simple! You can do this, Scottie."

Scott nods and jogs over to the goal net, looking uncertain and uncomfortable. Stiles jitters and mumbles from where he has taken a seat on the bench. But… Shay could still hear his voice like he is right next to her.

The assistant coach blows the whistle from across the field. Just like that morning, Shay covers her hands over her ears, pain exploding from her ears to her forehead. It feels like she'd been kicked in the face. From where she is crouched in pain, she looks over to Scott, who isn't looking too good either. He is thrashing around, hands on his helmet. It is like he is in the same kind of pain she is. A ball came flying at him, hitting him in the head with a hard smack. Multiple players laugh, even the coach. Shay groans along with Stiles.

Somehow, Shay manages to shake off the pain, tug on her helmet, and get in line to throw. Scott has gotten back up from where he'd fallen to the ground. He looks ready this time, bouncing his weight from one leg to the other. One of the first liners runs at him, throwing the ball to the side. Scott catches it like it is nothing.

"Holy-" Stiles gasps from his seat on the bench.

"-shit!" Shay finishes, just as amazed.

It is like a domino effect after that. One by one, the team gives their best throws, each one being blocked by Scott. Stiles' cheers get louder and louder with every catch, the crowd behind him cheering with him. Shay calls out her own encouragements, ready to try her hand at tossing. Right when it is her turn, Jackson stands in front of her, his lacrosse stick blocking her way. His eyes are hot with anger and his muscles are tense. She doesn't even need to try and zone in to hear his heart beat, thudding with the challenge.

"Jackson?" she asks, tilting her head up slightly to look at him.

"Let me try," he growls. It isn't a request, but a demand. Shay doesn't try to fight him on it.

Everyone tenses as Jackson takes off, running with precision skill. Shay hears Scott's soft "oh god" and whispers out her own," You got this, Superman." Then Jackson launches the ball straight to the net, the object flying faster than anyone else's. Shay holds her breath as Scott moves, only to let it all out in a hysterical scream when Scott catches it. The stands go wild.

"That's my friend!" Stiles hollers.

"Alright, my turn," Shay declares. Two players behind her pat her back and shoulders encouragingly. The wound on her shoulder doesn't even so much as ache.

Shay scoops a ball into the net of her stick, sends a thumbs up Scott's way, and then is off. In a blur of seconds and sound, Shay runs left but swerves right, twisting her stick and throwing the ball to the goal. In her change of directions, Shay slips, falling and rolling to the ground. The sound of tearing and snapped knots makes her look up. She meets Scott's surprised eyes.

He holds up his goalie stick for her to see. There is a hole in the middle of it, strings torn and snapped. She looks behind Scott to see the ball resting in the net of the goal. What the-

The team is on her in seconds, the coach right behind them. They cheered and pick her up to her feet in their excitement. The coach grabs her helmet in his hands as he smiles. "Where the hell did that come from?!"

Shay looks to Scott, who is pulling off his helmet and smiling at her like she'd just done something amazing. She smiles back but freezes when she hears a curse from somewhere far off. Her eyes searches for the source, only to find Jackson glaring at her and Scott with an intensity that leaves an uneasy feeling in her stomach.

"I don't know," she finally answers the coach. "I don't know."

||/\\||

Scott insists that they go back to the preserve to find his missing inhaler. Stiles agrees with minimal complaints, still hyped from practice. Shay doesn't say much, head stuck in a fog of worry. What is happening to her? And if something is happening to her, is it happening to Scott also? She knows he'd been practicing all summer, had been there to help him practice herself, but – a week before today, he hadn't been that good. Neither had she. The speed she'd gone at is scary, too fast to be normal for her. It had been like the world had slowed down for her.

"Right, Shay?"

Shay snaps up from her thoughts, looking to the voice that calls her name. Scott watches her with expectant eyes.

"Sorry, what did you say?"

"I said don't you think it's weird that I can smell the gum in Stiles' pocket. Like, the smell isn't even that strong when you put it to your nose!"

Shay sniffs the air. A sweet, minty smell fills her nose in a way that should have calmed her nerves, but instead has her blood running cold. "Is it mint mojito?"

"So it's happening to you, too?" Scott says hopefully.

"Today the bell and whistles were killing me. It was like a drill in my ear every time they went off."

"See?" Scott says to Stiles.

"So all this started with the bite," Stiles asks doubtfully.

Shay rubs her shoulder. "Scratch in my case."

"What if it's like an infection? Our bodies are flooding with adrenaline before we go into shock or something?"

The thought of getting an infection from a random animal makes Shay shiver in disgust. Stiles hums and rubs his chin thoughtfully. "You know, I think I have heard something like that."

"You have?" Shay asks, stopping them.

"It's a specific kind of infection," he says seriously. "I think it's calls lycanthropy."

"Stiles!"

"What's that?" Scott asks in horror. He looks from Stiles to Shay. "Is that bad?"

Stiles nods with hands on his hips. Shay rolls her eyes at him and crosses her arms, wondering how long he is going to torment their friend. Knowing Stiles, he would probably let Scott go years without telling him the truth. Lycanthropy – is he serious?

"Oh yeah. It's the literal worst. But only once a month."

Scott scrunches up his nose. "Once a month?"

"Yeah," Stiles says," on the night of the full moon." He gives a weak howl for emphasis. Scott shoves him Shay's way and she shoves him back. Stiles only laughs at their annoyed expressions.

"Hey, you're the ones that says they heard a wolf howling."

"There could be something seriously wrong with us!" Scott cried.

"I know !" Stiles laughs. "You guys are werewolves!" When neither Scott nor Shay laughs along with him, Stiles raises up his hands in surrender. "Obviously I'm kidding… But, if you see me in shop class trying to melt all the silver I can find, it's because Friday's a full moon."

Scott just shakes his head, leading them a few more feet forward before stopping to look down at the ground. "I could have sworn this is it. The deer came at us, we saw the body..." He looks to Shay with a confused and worried expression.

"Yeah, Scottie. It was right here."

Her confirmation doesn't ease his worry.

"Maybe the killer moved the body," Stiles sighs, hands on his hips.

"If he did, I hope he left my inhaler. Those things are like eighty bucks."

Shay ruffles his hair. "If you can't find it, we'll round up some money for a new-" A sudden shivering sensation ran up and down her back, starting at the base of her neck to the bottom of her spine. Her hairs feels like they are standing on end. Shay whirls around, fingers curled into fists, and almost jumps out of her skin at the sight of a man. He is tall, dark hair and eyes, with a leather jacket that makes his entire aura far more threatening that it should have. She backs up into Scott and Stiles. Scott is up on his feet and Stiles holds her slightly behind them, hand tight around hers.

"What are you doing here?" the stranger demands, walking toward them. "This is private property."

"Uh, sorry, man. We doesn't know," Stiles quickly says.

"We are just looking for something," Shay puts in, instantly regretting it when the man's eyes lock on to her.

The man's frown only get deeper. He reaches into the pocket of his jacket and tosses Scott's inhaler to them. The three of them stare as he walks off. Something about the lingering look he sends them makes Shay hold on just a little tighter to Stiles' hand. It's like he knows something – like maybe he knows that they were there in the woods last night. For a brief second, Shay could only think of the monster that had attacked them. She quickly lets the thought go. He is more likely to be the killer than the monster. She isn't sure which thought is more terrifying.

"Who is that?" she breathes out.

"Derek Hale," Stiles says. "He's only a few years older than us. His family burned in a fire, like, ten years ago."

"Six-ish," Shay mumbles. "I remember."

Scott licks his lips nervously. "I wonder what he's doing back."

Stiles says nothing. He stares in the direction Derek had stormed off in, eyes narrowed but bright with curiosity. Shay wants to know what he is thinking – wants to know what sort of scenarios are being cooked up in that overactive brain of his. They must have be not so great, judging by the way his mouth turns down. Shay tugs at his hand until he looks away from the woods and back down at her.

"Scott and I need to go to work," she reminds him.

Scott smacks his palm to his forehead. "Oh my god, I almost forgot."

"Hey, don't get your panties in a twist. I'll give you guys a ride," Stiles says.

The three of them walk just a little faster back to Stiles' Jeep. The woods feel colder now, with the looming presence of a missing body, a mysterious beast, and now a moody stranger. One who makes everything in Shay's body tense up in fear.

||/\\||

Work at the video store is as slow as ever. Shay revels in the quiet and slow pace of her shift, for once not caring about the ugly carpet and wall colors or about her weird co-worker that she caught staring at her sometimes. Today, he stays in the backroom, leaving her to mind the front cash register alone. With no one coming in and no co-worker creeping her out, Shay figures that work would end up on a good note.

Then her shift ends and she goes to the restroom to change out of the thick, ugly shirt she had to call her uniform. The tape of the bandages catches on to the fabric as she pulls the shirt up, coming off with it. Shay immediately winces, her skin pulling with the bandages. She carefully manages to get the shirt off without tugging at her bandages anymore, twisting toward the mirror to see if she had agitated the wound.

She sees nothing but smooth skin.

It is like ice water being poured over her head. Ignoring the stinging pain as she rips the rest of the bandages off, Shay leans in close to the mirror, eyes frantically blinking – like maybe her vision is going and she is seeing things. Nothing. There are no scratch marks, no blood, no torn flesh. It is as if she hadn't been scratched at all, as if last night hadn't happened. Breathing suddenly becomes impossible. Her eyes flit around the restroom, the world blurring together from her unshed tears. Shay sinks to her knees with a hand on her shoulder, the other clasped around her throat as she gasps for air.

The scratch – the heartbeat in her ears – the way her body moves in practice – the strange alertness in the woods – the missing scratch wound. Nothing fits together. None of it makes sense.

What's happening? What's happening to me?

[A/N: Thanks so much for getting all the way down here! I've been dying to write an OC story for teen wolf for ages, and now I have the time. I hope you don't mind two OCs, I couldn't decide who I wanted to write about so I figured por que no los dos. A reminder: this is not a Jackson/OC or even a Jackson/OC/Stiles fic. Read and review!]