She knows she shouldn't be out in the woods, not only was it the middle of the night, but Beacon Hills was vastly becoming known for the numerous attacks and murders. She wasn't naïve about them, but she needed to get away from her Dad. One hard slap to her cheek and a shove down the stairs was all Emily can handle that night. Cradling her right wrist, she carefully climbs over a fallen trunk, walking farther into the woods. She doesn't think her wrist is broken but it could possibly be sprained, either way, she just has to bare it – her Dad won't be happy if she babies it.

Hearing rustling from behind, Emily stops dead in her tracks, holding still as she tries to hear what is going on. The rustling gets louder and faster as it gets closer, but just as she is getting ready to scream, it stops and the woods fall silent again.

She tries to open her open ears but all she can hear is the thumping of her heart as it tries to come down from an adrenaline rush. She pulls her wrist closer to her chest, thinking of her chances of actually fighting off something bigger than a bunny. Emily chews on her bottom lip. The tumble she took last week after not bringing in the groceries fast enough still has an effect on her ankle and, although her wrist wasn't broken now, if she has to fight, she surely would break it.

"Are you lost?"

Emily turns her attention slightly to the left to see a pale skinned, teenage boy as he steps out of the darkness of the woods and into the light of the half moon. His hair is a light brown and cut short but curls were still forming in the hair. He has on a ¾ length sleeved, blue and grey baseball shirt with jeans on. And he was tall, so tall. Emily could have sworn his eyes were a sparkling yellow, but when she blinks, they were a bright blue.

"No." she shakes her head.

"It's past midnight, what are you doing out in the woods?"

"I could ask you the same question." Emily raises an eyebrow.

"Guess you're right." The boy chuckles, "I'm Isaac." He holds his hand out.

Emily teeths her lower lip again and holds her wrist up. "Emily."

"Are you okay?"

"I uh, tripped over some weeds a while back, just landed on it weird."

Isaac seems to be looking over her intensely and Emily becomes thankful for the shadows she was hidden under. She hadn't gotten the chance to look at her cheek on her run out the door but she knew if it was the middle of the day and not night, the curious boy in front of her would be able to see the swollen knot that was now her left cheek. Emily shifts under his gaze, swallowing the lump that forms in the back of her throat.

Isaac tilts his head, a smile forming. "You go to Beacon Hills right?"

It suddenly clicks in Emily's head. Isaac. "Isaac Lahey?"

"You – you know me?"

Emily can't believe she missed it before. The curls, how tall he was, the jawline – the girls behind her in English class don't shut up about him. Most of the girls at their school usually talk about the entire group Isaac hangs out with. Scott, Jackson, Boyd, even Stiles gets a few whispers. And Danny, everybody loves Danny. The girls, Lydia and Allison, are always the talk of fashion as well as how every guy wants Lydia… and Erica, especially after her transformation from medical induced sickly teenager to a hot, blonde bombshell, the boys can't seem to get enough.

"You're really good at lacrosse." Emily comments.

"You've been to the games?" Isaac glances up from the ground, his smile making his eyes sparkle in the moonlight.

"No exactly…" Emily shakes her head. "I've walked by some of the practices on my way home."

She would go to the games if she knew people – well, she knew most of the students at the school but she wasn't a friend with any of them. Her Dad and her moved to Beacon Hills a little over a year ago and being the weird girl who always had bruises and strange excuses put a damper on making friends.

"You should come! I mean… I could use a teenager that I'm not sharing with Scott or Jackson." He shoves his hands in his front pocket and lifts his shoulders up to his ears.

"I'm sure you have plenty, you just haven't noticed." Emily teases.

Before Isaac can give a snarky comment back, a howl can be heard in the distance. His ears seem to perk up towards the howl and he takes a deep breath in. "I've got to go." He kept his focus on hearing something else. "You can make it home?"

"Yea, it's just over there." Emily points over her shoulder.

"You should go home. Stay in for the rest of the night." Isaac shrugs but keeps a firm, stern look in his eyes. Emily looks down at her wrist. "Also, I would put some ice on your wrist, helps with the swelling." He turns his back to her but throws his head over his shoulders. "The ice will help with your cheek too."

The boy is gone before Emily can look up.

She doesn't want to go back to her Dad just yet but she finds her feet shuffling back to the direction she came. The way Isaac looked at her when he suggested she stayed in for the rest of the night chills her to the bone. It didn't seem like a request, more like a plea mixed with a demand. He was worried about something – maybe the howl. Either way, Emily felt she had more of a chance dealing with slaps, punching, and shoving over sharp teeth and claws.

She turns her body back around and quickens her pace, cautious of the wood's floor.

"Is that you Emillette?" Her Dad's voice calls out from deep in the house as soon as Emily steps through the back door.

Emily curses under her breath as she clicks the door shut softly behind her. She was hoping he was passed out by now, it's been a few hours since she left, but tonight must not have been a good enough night for him.

"Yea – yea Dad. It's me." She croaks out. Her Dad was silent. Emily takes a deep breath and begins making her way to the front entrance of the kitchen.

"Where did you go?"

The softness of the voice causes Emily to freeze in her steps. Her Dad was past drinking himself to sleep; instead, he was in the stage where he acts like a lost child. Biting her lip and going against her better judgment, Emily steps away from the safety of the hallway and stairs and crosses the tiled floor into the living room.

Her Dad lies slumped in his armchair, multiple can of empty beer scatters the carpet around his feet. The flicker from the TV bounces around his five o'clock shadow, intensifying the dullness in his eyes as he rolls his neck in her direction.

"You were gone." He sadly slurs.

"Just had to get some fresh air… sorry." Her Dad's head rolls forward and bobs there. "Let's get you up to bed, okay?" Emily walks over to him, pushing a path in the beer cans as she gets closer.

Her Dad doesn't argue or lash out at her when she steps closer but it doesn't stop her hesitation as she grabs his arm with her left hand and pulls him up. Emily counts her blessings as she holds her breath and puts his arms over her shoulder, hoping the stench of alcohol and sweat doesn't cause her to gag.

"What did you do to your wrist?" Her Dad asks, reaching for it as Emily guides him to the foot of the stairs.

"It's okay." She twists away from his touch. "I fell and landed on it wrong."

"You should let me kook at it."

"It's fine Dad. I'm going to put some ice on it once we get you upstairs."

The answer seems to please him as he grabs onto the railing with his left hand and looks over to the living room. "S'room a mess." He mumbles.

"I'll clean it up, okay?"

Her Dad doesn't say anything else as they continue their way up the stairs and around the corner to his bedroom. Emily doesn't bother with anything more then pulling the bed sheets back and dropping him onto the mattress. He was asleep by the time they reached the bed, so tossing him down was simple.

She catches a glimpse of the aging photograph on his nightstand and quickly shakes her head. Her Mom left years ago and yet her Dad hadn't seemed to let her go, still wearing his wedding ring, talking about her like she was still gone on the business trip she had left them for. She knew her husband was getting worse in his drinking and anger issues but instead of taking her young daughter with her, she left Emily to fend for herself.

Emily shakes her head again and flips the photo frame with the two smiling people face down and leaves the room.

After cleaning up the beer cans and shutting the TV off, Emily steps back outside to drop the bag of cans in the garbage. Seeing the reflection of the moon off the window, she brings her hand up to her cheek, a flash of Isaac's face telling her to stay inside flies through her memory. Almost as if another reminder, a loud branch snaps in the distance, causing Emily to squeak and hustle inside, locking the door tightly behind her.

She was halfway out of the kitchen when she turns around, pulls open a drawer, and grabs two sandwich bags. Looking out of the door's window into the night, Emily shutters at what could possibly be out there. Turning her attention to the sandwich bags, she finally gets them open, pulls on the freezer door, and grabs handfuls of ice, dropping them into the bags. As soon as she was done, she shuts the freezer door and speeds out of the kitchen, wanting to get away from the creepy shadows of the night outside of the door.