Wolf Moon,

Ellie decided that taking a drive through Beacon Hills would probably be a good idea. She and Allison didn't get to finish their tour the night before because of almost hitting that person, so venturing outside on her own seemed like a plan. Her cousin was already doing homework ("You're so lame, Al," Ellie scoffed, "Who does homework?") and refused to come out with her, so she just changed into something comfier (a loose, grey t-shirt, the same jeans but minus the bra), grabbed the keys to the Mazda and went for a drive.

The first thing she saw was the animal clinic, but she didn't think that would be very important. She was allergic to cat fur and she was terrified of dogs, so, unless she decided she wanted a chinchilla, the location of a vet was about as important to her as who was winning America's Next Top Model.

Next it was the school, but she breezed past that like it wasn't even there. Then there was the local supermarket, and the Macy's (she had to convince herself not to go inside and take a look).

It was when she was on her way home that she hit the dog. She was just driving, humming along to Rockstar by Nickelback. So, it wasn't the most ladylike music choice, but she always found herself enjoying it, so she left it on her iPod. The volume was too low, so she let her eyes flee from the road in front of her and to find the dial on the radio. It was in that second she heard a loud whine and her car bumped.

She braked immediately, horrified, and ran out of the car. She didn't like dogs, sure, but that didn't mean she wanted to kill one! Without thinking, or caring about the rain (seriously, was rain like an omen for hitting/almost hitting someone with your car, or something?) she gathered the canine up in arms, deposited him in the trunk of her car, and ran back round to the driver's seat.

It wasn't a smart move, considering, but all she could register was that she needed to get the animal to the clinic as soon as possible; contacting the owner was the least of her worries.

When she got to the red brick building, she realised she was crying. Her hair had started to curl again, and it stuck uncomfortably to her face. Ellie banged her fist on the glass in the door, wrenching herself to the side to look back at the car; like she was afraid the dog would get up and crawl away.

The door opened to reveal the last person she expected. It was the boy from English, Puppy Boy, He Who Has Not Been Named, McCall. He was looking at her in worry and slight discomfort, which was probably due to the fact she was blubbering like a new-born. Jesus, she was making a fool of herself in front of a good looking boy.

"I- I didn't see it," she said shakily, "I looked away from the road to turn the volume up on my radio, and this dog, it just came out of nowhere."

"It's alright," he soothed, "Do you remember where it happened? So I can send animal control to find it?"

"No!" she shook her head franticly, "No, I mean, I know where it happened. Somewhere between the high school and Macy's, but that doesn't matter! It's in my car."

"Okay, it's okay," he placed a hand on her shoulder, "Give me your keys and I'll go and get it."

Looking back on it, maybe giving a total stranger her car keys wasn't entirely clever, but at the time she was so distraught that the idea of someone stealing her cousin's car didn't matter.

She handed him the keys, praying he didn't notice how much her hand was trembling, and stumbled her way inside the clinic. She wasn't sure where to go, but she ended up in a little room with a metal table in the middle. It looked like it was the place the doctor would examine the animals.

He joined her not long after, the whining dog in his arms. He placed her down on the table before inspecting her for any damage.

"I think her leg is broken," he told her finally, "I've seen the doctor do plenty of splints. I can do it myself and give her a pain killer for now."

"Thank you for doing this," she said, wiping her face in embarrassment, "If you hadn't been here I don't know what I would've done,"

"Well, anything for a damsel in distress," he grinned boyishly, making her smile slightly in return.

"You're lucky you helped me," she said playfully, "If it was any other time I'd hit you with a speech about feminism and how I'm no more of a damsel than you are,"

He chuckled, before noticing that Ellie had subconsciously wrapped her arms around herself to conserve heat. "I have an extra shirt in my bag,"

"Oh," she moved her arms to dangle by her sides, "You don't have to..."

"I'm Scott," he said, holding a hand out, not to shake, but to give her the previously mentioned shirt, "Scott McCall."

"I'm Ellie," she took the shirt, staring at it hesitantly. If she changed, she would be warmer, but it would be really awkward to change into another shirt in a room with a boy, especially seeing as she wasn't wearing a bra.

"You can..." he rubbed the back of his neck as his cheeks went red, "You can change through there,"

"Thanks," she said gratefully.

Ellie walked to the back room, and Scott couldn't help but follow her with his eyes. The fact that she was even talking to him was crazy, and that she'd smiled at him more than once, but she was in the next room, changing. It was the closest he'd ever been to a semi-nude girl, and that was as flustering as it was humiliating.

He saw her through the glass in the door, and he felt like a total creeper, but that didn't stop him from watching as she yanked her tank top over her head. She knotted her hair at the nape of her neck, still topless, and, he could see, braless too. The dog made a noise, making him look over at the thing, and it seemed to give him accusing eyes.

"What?" he muttered to it, "I didn't see anything,"

Ellie herself was feeling very embarrassed. Scott was literally on the other side of the door, and she was completely bare-chested. As quickly as she could, she yanked his top over her head and went back into the room.

Scott was busying himself with wrapping the dog's leg. For someone with next to no medical training, he was actually pretty good.

"Thank you," she said, coming up beside him, "Again. I feel really stupid."

"How come?" He asked, smiling at her. He found it difficult not to smile when she was with him.

"I freaked out," Ellie hung her head, "I act tough, and I think I'm tough, but... tonight, it just showed me how not tough I really am."

"Hey," he ran a hand through the dog's fur, "I'd be freaked out, too. In fact, I'd probably cry, and not like a man either, like the biggest girly girl ever. And be pathetic."

Ellie giggled (When did I start giggling? she thought), "Hey, don't try to emasculate yourself. I see straight through you!"

"Oh, yeah?"

"Yeah. I saw you on the lacrosse field after school," she informed him, "And you definitely weren't acting like a girly girl then,"

It was silent for a few moments, before he peered down at the animal, "It looks like she's going to live," Scott told her. She nodded. "And I'm pretty sure she'll even let you pet her now, if you want."

"Uh, no, um," she floundered, "I'm good."

"Oh, come on," he put on his best serious face, "You don't want her to sue. I hear this breed is very litigious."

"No," Ellie shook her head, "Dogs and I... No, just," she sighed, "I'm kind of... scared of them."

"You're scared of dogs?"

She groaned, "For good reason! My childhood was filled with horror stories about rabid dogs and mauled children!"

"Wow," he blinked, "Well, I can assure you that she," he pointed to the dog, "Will not bite you."

"And if she does?"

"She will not bite you," he repeated. Making a face, she hesitantly reached her hand out, stopping before she touched the fur. Sensing her uneasiness, he gently circled her wrist with his hand and pushed it down, so she was stroking the canine. "You see," he said after a moment, "She likes you,"

She could feel him watching her, so she looked up to meet his eyes. He was giving her this puppy-eyed stare, his eyes big and doe brown and an almost smile touching his lips. "What?" she asked softly.

Scott shook himself out of it, latching onto the first excuse he could think of, "Sorry, you have an eyelash on your cheek."

"Oh," she bit her lip, swiping her hand over the side of her face, "From the crying,"

Nervousness clouded inside him as, with as much confidence as he could muster, he raised his hand and stroked his thumb over her cheekbone.

"Thanks," she breathed, throat closing. She'd never been in this sort of situation. What the hell was wrong with her? Just two days ago she was glaring, pouting, moodily watching TV and sassing her uncle, now she was melting over boy she'd been formally introduced to less than an hour before. It was pathetic, and yet she couldn't bring herself to move away from him. "I should get home," she blurted.

"Oh, yeah, um, of course," Scott stuttered.

"No, my uncle, he'll, uh, he'll be worried," she said quickly, not wanting to make it sound like she was trying to find an excuse to leave, "He's really protective, and with everything that happened with my parents he's barely let me leave the house."

"No, I-I understand," he nodded, beaming, "I'll walk you to your car,"

Outside, she opened the driver's side door of the Mazda, mentally coaxing herself to leave. It wasn't working awfully well; self-motivation was never one of her strong points.

"I was wondering," Scott broke the silence, "I mean, is it really family night on Friday? Or do you think, maybe you'd like to go to that party with me?"

How did he know about that?

"Family night was a total lie," Ellie looked down to hide the grin threatening to tear her face in half, "And since you asked so nicely, it would be rude to refuse."

"So is that a yes?" he asked hopefully.

"It's a definite yes,"

The week after that sort of flew by. Ellie spoke to Scott in English a few times, and was introduced to his best friend, Stiles, who, if the way he stared at her was any indication, had a huge thing for Lydia. The interaction went sort of like this.

"So, uh, um, Ellie, this is my best friend, um..." Scott trailed off, like he forgot his best friend's name. He looked a little concussed, honestly, and it was incredibly cute. The whole 'no connections' thing was down the drain now she was being forced into social interaction that didn't make her want to tear out her own hair.

"Stiles," the kid next to him supplied. She recognized him from the lacrosse practise; he'd been cheering wildly for Scott. There must have been something in the water in this town, because he was good looking too, if you like boys that looked like they were always getting into trouble. He had a large smile, curved eyebrows and hair cut short, but, with the pale skin and smattering of moles over his face, he was definitely Allison's type.

"Right," Scott nodded, flushing in embarrassment. How could he have forgotten his best friend's name? It was humiliating. "Ellie, this is my best friend, Stiles."

"Hi, Stiles," she shook his hand, grinning, "I think the appropriate thing to say in this situation would be 'it's nice to meet you', but I'm not really good with social interactions, and, honestly, you guys are kind of ruining my plan about not making friends, so I'm going to have to stay quiet."

"Making friends?" Scott echoed. Stiles gave him an oddly sympathetic look, but Ellie took no notice, telling them that she had to go and high tailing it out of their like the devil was at her heels.

What the hell was that?! She wasn't Lindsay Lohan, she didn't get word vomit! She'd totally embarrassed herself!

On Friday, she could barely contain her excitement. Allison had heard about the date a few days before, and she was gushing, bouncing, yelping in joy. She noticed the change in her cousin, and how she wasn't being as cynical and unbearably sarcastic. Ellie had known the boy for less than a week and he'd already turned her into a blushing mess. It was great!

After lessons, everyone gathered at the lacrosse fields. Lydia wasn't there, earlier she'd said something about getting a manicure ("Jackson's going to do great." She shrugged, "The last thing he needs is my support.")

The team gathered around Coach Finstock, and Ellie saw Scott amongst them, looking nervous. Allison sped ahead of her cousin, seeking a free spot on the bleachers. The first elimination, for some odd reson, was less popular than the practise earlier in the week, so finding space for two petite girsl wasn't difficult.

Elle took a second, deliberating whether or not to wave, but she found herself doing so anyway. He smiled and waved back, but snapped his hand immediately to his side after the coach said something to him.

Finstock yelled and the team dispersed, jogging to different places in the field to begin playing. They passed the ball amongst themselves, nothing particularly interesting going on. Jackson was obviously threatened by Scott, that much was seen as he purposely tackled him to the ground when he was running with the ball.

Frowning, Ellie stood up, not missing the smirk on her cousin's face as she peered n to the field, trying to see if he was okay.

It was like another epic showdown, except now Scott had something to prove. He met Jack in the middle of the field, standing facing different directions like they would in soccer, and held his stick ready. Anger was washing through him, and he felt the need to crush the lacrosse captain. He was just as good; he just had to prove it. He had to make first line.

He took the ball, sprinting away with it before Jackson even had time to blink. He dodged other players, weaving around them like he was born to. Adrenaline flooded his veins, sweat beaded on the back of his neck. He could do this.

I can do this.

Three of his teammates blocked his way to the goal, and, without even thinking, he jumped and flipped over them, landing expertly on his feet with a grace he had no idea he possessed. From the stands, Ellie cheered.

He made the shot, launching the ball at the net so it passed straight through the goalie's (his name was Danny, and he was Jackson's best friend) legs.

Ellie jumped to her feet, screeching in support and celebration. Allison joined her, and then they were hugging, and it was the most the girls had ever screamed.

"McCall!" Finstock shouted aggressively, "Get over here!" Scott tore his eyes away from his cheering teammates and jogged to the Economics teacher. "What in God's name was that? This is a lacrosse field! What are you trying out for? The gymnastics team?!

"No, coach," Scott shuffled his feet.

"What the hell was that?"

"I-I don't know," He stuttered, "I was just trying to make the shot."

"Yeah, well you made the shot," Coach grinned madly, "And guess what? You're starting, buddy. You made first line."

Scott's mouth dropped in shock, and everyone on the bleachers applauded. He turned to stare at them, meeting Ellie's eyes. She gave him the largest smile he's ever seen.

A feeling of pride overtook him, and, for the first time in a while, he was completely happy.