Stiles/OC

First ever Teen Wolf FanFic !

I heard my father screaming from downstairs, as I picked up the purple off the shoulder top off of the bed, and pulled it over my white camisole. "Coming, Dad!" I yelled. I looked in the mirror, at my face. My face, which looked more like my dead mother, Carolyn's was pretty. I had thin lips and bright blue eyes. I had acquired almost no features from my father, except for my nose, which was small and short. It wasn't as long as my mother's.

"Seriously, Ella, hurry up!"

I grabbed my messenger bag, and my purse. I picked my phone off the charger and stuffed it in the back pocket of my light washed jeans. I jogged downstairs.

"Okay, dad! I'm ready!"

My father, Jason was sitting on the table, drinking his morning coffee. "Ella, what on earth are you wearing?"

I rolled my eyes and flipped my blonde hair over my shoulder. "You know clothes."

Dad sighed, "You don't have time to change. Tomorrow you're wearing something appropriate."

"Whatever."

This was the first day of school for me. Since dad had gotten transferred from his job in New Jersey, we'd moved to Beacon Hills. I don't even know what dad's job is. I just knew it barely paid for our apartment, and we were barely getting by.

Ever since my mom died three years ago, my father kept to himself. We grew apart, and I became more rebellious. I broke curfew, I threw my used condoms in the trash can where he could see. I got a twenty year old boyfriend, and brought him over all the time, even allowing him to spend the night.

So here we are. Me in my tight clothes; my dad uptight about everything in my life.

I'm seventeen, and my name's technically Eleanor Marie Constance, after my great grandmother. Eleanor used to be me whenever I was into Clifford, and Timmy Rockwell, a "cute" boy in third grade. Now, I'm Ellie.

But my dad can't even handle that, hence why he calls me Ella. It's better than Eleanor, but it sill sound uptight.

I guess it suits my father's personality.

My dad insists on dropping me off, on his way to work.

"Have a good day!" my father calls after me. I don't offer anything as I step out onto the sidewalk, my heels clicking. I feel hungry eyes on me, and I'm loving it.

I walk to the front desk, and get my schedule. It's mid September, and all the girls are wearing high heels, low cut shirts, and short shorts.

I head to homeroom, after finding my locker and dropping off the messenger bag. All I take for homeroom is my textbook for first period.

I may be rebellious, but I'm still trying to get into Yale. I have an 'A' average, and I'm not letting it drop, even though I'm starting late.

I stand by the teacher's desk, as everyone takes their seats. The teacher's not here yet, so everyone's on their phones, kissing their boyfriends, or listening to their iPods. Not many people take attention to me, and I'm grateful. I feel out of place no matter where I am.

I decide to pull out my phone. I have three new text messages, all from Amber, my best friend from Jersey. I don't check any of them, no doubt their about her first time with her boyfriend, Zach. I'm mad at her anyways. She missed my leaving the state, to have sex with her ugly boyfriend.

The only people that came to that were Chase, my ex-boyfriend, and my first time, and Hilly, the girl that made my life a living hell until last year, where she needed help. That's whenever she apologized.

Finally, the teacher emerges. He has curly brown hair that falls to his shoulders. He's carrying a white mug, and as he walks, a computer bag on his shoulder, the black liquid sloshes out of the mug. He looks at me, "You must be Eleano-"

I stop him there. "It's Ellie."

"Alright…Ellie." He sets the mug down on the table, causing more to slosh out. He holds out his hand, and I take it, looking at them together, "I'm Mr. Harris, I'll be your homeroom teacher for the year. Welcome to Beacon High. We're glad to have you here." He looks around. I see that everyone hasn't stopped playing on their phones or iPods. The couples have stopped kissing though. Mr. Harris doesn't even seem to notice the big, chunky phones that are still out. "Can you put your things down for a moment?" His voice is strong, and it does not falter.

Everyone takes out their earbuds, or puts down their phones, and they all look at Mr. Harris.

Mr. Harris smiles, "Everyone please welcome Miss Ellie Constance! She's new here. I'm sure someone in here has her schedule."

He takes the schedule from my fingers, and looks at all of the classes. "Oh, my." He sighs. "This can't be right."

I look at him, "What?"

He ignores me, "Stiles."

"Style what?"

"Where's Mr. Stillinski?" He asks.

Suddenly, a figure bursts through the door. "I'm here, Mr. Harris!" I look over, and see this boy. He's about seventeen. He has black hair that's cut shortish, and these gorgeous hazel eyes. "I'm here…" he breathes. In his hands, he has a big chunky phone, and a silver laptop.

Mr. Harris sighs. "Lovely. Mr. Stillinski, I'd like you to meet Miss Ellie Constance. You'll be showing her to her classes for a few days."

The boy looks at me and back at Mr. Harris. "But if I show her around, I'll be late to all my classes."

"You shouldn't be, Mr. Stillinski. You two have the exact same schedules," Mr. Harris shoots me a small smile, "Ellie, this is Stiles."

Stiles looks at Mr. Harris, "Alright. I'll show her around."

My teacher smiles, "Awesome! Ellie, why don't you go sit next to Stiles. Get acquainted with him?"

I shrug, and look at Stiles.

Stiles rolls his eyes, and begins walking to his seat. "Ellie!" Mr. Harris calls to me. "If you have any trouble with Mr. Stillinski, don't be afraid to tell me," he says, and looks at Stiles. "Mr. Stiles happens to be our troublemaker. If I found out he's doing anything wrong, he'll have detention with me afterschool for a month. Understood, Stiles?"

Stiles sighs, "Yes, sir."

He sits at the back, in front of a long black table, large enough for two. I sit next to him, and watch him lay his laptop on the table.

"So you're aloud to have your phones out?"

Stiles looks over at me, and his hazel eyes are glittering. "Yep. Well, just in Mr. Harris' homeroom and study hall. Which we are so lucky to have both. All of the other teachers are sourpusses."

He boots up the laptop, and types in the password, his fingers flying over the table. I find myself just staring at him as he logs onto his e-mail. He types quickly, and hits the send button quickly as well, as if he's hiding something. I don't mind, because all I'm watching is his face.

He's attractive.

Not just one-night stand material attractive, but I would go out with him. That's a lot coming from me. But for some reason, I'm drawn to this boy with the unusual name. I'm not just drawn to him sexually, with sexual feelings – I would be willing to have a relationship with him.

I have no idea why. It's absolutely ridiculous. I've just met the guy, and I barely know him. But for some reason, every time he blinks, or clenches his jaw, my heart just melts a little more.

This feeling is warm, and it most certainly does not belong in someone like Ellie Constance. It belongs in some sweet girl. That isn't me.

I'm brought out of my daze by Stiles staring at me. "Ellie!" he smirks. "It's time to go to first period."

I see he's already shut down his laptop, and he's now texting someone. He shoves his phone back in his pocket quickly, and lays the laptop on his hip.

"I need to go to my locker. What's you locker number? We have five minutes before we need to be there. I'm usually just a minute or two late."

"Um…six o' five."

Stiles genuinely smiles for the first time since I've met him, "Awesome. That's right next to my best friend…and me. I'm six sixteen. Scott's six o' two."

He walks out of the classroom, with me, not far behind. Now is whenever I realize that Stiles is way taller than me, by far. He has to be at least five nine. I'm barely five two, and I've been done growing since ninth grade. It's senior year now.

"So, Ellie. What brings you to Beacon Hills?"

I stutter my answer, "Uh- my d-dad, he got transferred."

Stiles raises an eyebrow, "Not many places to get transferred from here, but it's possible I guess. Where's he work?"

"I have no idea." I'm blushing. I never blush. Especially not in front of guys. I'm the kind of girl that can walk up to a guy and ask him if he has a condom and free night.

"You don't know where your own father works?" he asks, chuckling.

I find more confidence, luckily. "Nope." I pop the 'p'.

"Alright then." Stiles says. We're downstairs now, and in front of our lockers.

I open my locker and pull out my textbooks for periods one and two. I grab a pen and a binder that has my papers in it.

We make it to class, about a minute before the bell rings. I meet the teacher. This is how it's going to be the entire day. "Welcome, Ellie!" Her names Miss Call. She's younger than I expected, and way nicer than I expected. She looks around at the class. Everyone is texting under tables or chewing and popping gum loudly. She points to a girl with curly red hair. "Sit next to Lydia." She says.

Lydia's a rich girl I soon find out. Her pens are designed by Christina Aguilera, and Demi Lovato. She wears the nicest clothes, but somehow, an orange string with a key hanging from her neck has worked its way into her wardrobe. She's beautiful, and polite. She's smart too. She offers me the answers to the homework from last night.

"So, Ellie, right?"

I nod and smile at her, "Yep."

"You're super pretty," she says as she ruffles her red hair. "What's your next class?"

I look down at my schedule. "I have…computer tech with Mrs. Velour."

Lydia scrunches up her nose and picks at her perfectly manicured nails, "She can barely hear anyone. So she talks loud. I had her last year, and I have her again this year. Easy A." She sings the last part, and I realiz this girl is perfect. Her voice is beautiful as well as her face. And she's nice. That's hard to find.

We sit in silence for a few minutes, doing math problems, before she breaks the silence. "So who's the lucky gal or guy that gets to show you around?"

I look over, to find Stiles sticking a pencil up his nose, and somehow, my face burns with enchantment. "Um… Stiles."

Lydia giggles. "Stiles?"

"Yeah…" I sigh.

"He's sweet, isn't he? He used to have this adorable crush on me!" She smiles, "Now I have a boyfriend, and Stiles is just having fun with Scott and Allison. I swear, he follows them on their dates. It's cute though."

I smile and look over at him, biting my lower lip.

Lydia suddenly squeals, throwing her pen in the air. "Oh. My. God!"

"What?' I ask jumping as she squeals and jumps.

"You like Stiles!"

a/n: wow this was long ! I am very proud of myself ! :D Well … I shall go … uhm , write part two ?