Thank you everyone who read and/or reviewed the first chapter! Here we go with the next part. :)
"No, that's not right," Stiles mumbled to himself, erasing his homework answer before rereading the question, not noticing his dad coming into the room.
"Hey, there, sport," the man said, causing the teen to jump before laughing with relief when he realized it was just his dad. "Sorry. Whatcha doing here? Isn't there some kind of party tonight?"
Of course, the town sheriff would know all about the totally illegal party being held. Stiles rolled his shoulder in a shrug and gestured to his homework. "I'd rather do this than go to that stupid party." The truth of the matter was that nobody even pretended to offer Stiles an invitation, not even Scott. Scott was there with Allison, but that was to be expected. Everybody loved Scott, even if he was a bit of an idiot. Maybe that was why they loved him. Stiles had no idea. He just knew that his best friend was more popular than he was. Scott rarely went out without Stiles unless it was a date, so he did not mind at all that Scott had not tried to invite him. He had homework, anyway.
After Stiles finished his homework, he and his dad sat in the living room, watching some mindless comedy movie on one of the hundreds of channels their satellite television gave them, just enjoying each others' company. It was definitely better than going to some stupid party, watching people he did not care about getting drunk to the point of reckless behavior. Stiles felt happy as he sat there, nursing his bottle of soda while his father had water. It was quiet, but nice.
The next day, at school before the bell rang announcing the start of classes, Jackson leaned against his locker as he talked to Danny, his arm draped around Lydia's shoulders, like usual. He was not really paying attention to the endless chatter of the cheerleaders and Lydia around him. It was not uncommon for him to tune out the conversations, and everyone basically expected it of him. That day, he was busy watching a few of the football players (ha! football), trying to be all intimidating toward some younger student he really did not know. The student just rolled his eyes and kept walking.
Jackson frowned faintly as the two jocks turned their attention to the next student passing them, who just happened to be Stiles, and they shoved him into a locker, making him run face first into them. Quite a few of the people in his little group were laughing, but Lydia seemed vaguely concerned, and Jackson did nothing but watch as Isaac Lahey seemingly came out of nowhere, telling them to back off before that new girl, Erica something-or-other checked on Stiles. The three of them talked inaudibly, Stiles grinning goofily and making a joke as he and Isaac started toward the bathroom so he could get some tissues for his nose. Jackson noticed that Issac, and Erica, were a bit more touchy with Stiles than most people would be. Their hands lingered on his back, and Erica seemed reluctant to let him go when the two boys went into the guys' restroom.
Erica told Scott what had happened, and Scott's face showed his obvious anger before he stalked into the bathroom, soon followed by that weird kid, Boyd. Erica looked dejected, leaning against the wall across from the bathroom; but, it only lasted a few minutes when Stiles and the others returned. Scott, Isaac, and Boyd all had a hand on Stiles in some way. They were an oddly touchy group. Jackson shrugged it off and walked Lydia to her class as the bell rang before going to his own, where Stiles was already writing in his notebook once he had taken his own seat. There were a few drops of blood on the front of Stiles' shirt, and Scott kept sending him worried glances; but, other than that, the rest of the day was really normal. Jackson was not overly fond of the blood on Stiles' shirt, and he found his eyes drifting to it from time to time; but, he told himself it was because the red stood out terribly against that tacky yellow t-shirt he wore.
After school that day, Jackson and Stiles met up for another tutoring session. That time, they were working on algebra, because Jackson had been struggling over the previous few tests. He had not been studying as much as he should have, putting more time in practicing for lacrosse. Once again, Jackson found his gaze on the blood stains on the front of Stiles' shirt. He grimaced a little, focusing on his book once again as he said, "Don't you own any other shirts, Stilinski?"
"Well, considering the vast number of t-shirts it has been said that I have, I would assume the correct answer to this random question would be 'yes'," replied Stiles, lifting an eyebrow slightly as he grabbed his bottle of water. "Why?"
"You've got blood on your shirt and you look ridiculous."
Stiles glanced down at his shirt and made a soft noise of irritation. "That's why they kept looking at me funny! Those damn..." Stiles continued to mutter to himself, glaring over toward his backpack, which held his phone, as he mentally promised to hit Boyd or one of the others when he saw them next. If they weren't all tense and angry, that was. The last thing he wanted was to be the reason they wolfed out at school. That would not be good. It took a long few moments, but Stiles finally realized that Jackson was looking at him funny, and he pushed his glasses back up his nose as he said, "What?"
"Nothing," mumbled the popular teen in response, shaking his head a little, focusing on his homework once again.
They spent the rest of the time in relative silence, except for when Stiles criticized Jackson's English paper, telling him everything was wrong. It was how they ended the tutoring session, and Jackson ended up going home mad. It was not until he got home and he reread the purple ink of Stiles' suggestions and corrections that he realized the truth in Stiles' statement. The other teen had only been trying to help, and Jackson, like always, had been an asshole in response. "Ma?" he called to the empty house, hoping it was not as empty as it seemed.
The only sound he heard in reply was of the dogs in one of the rooms. Jackson sighed and went up to his room so he could shower and settle in to watch some action flick on the television, ignoring Lydia's texts and wishing for the year to be over so he could leave that ridiculous little town. His mind, for some reason beyond him, kept flicking back to Stiles, and how pale he had been all day after having a bloody nose. He, himself, had been known to pick on the teen and make his life difficult; but, Jackson had never hit the guy. That was just... Well, he had never done anything to deserve that one.
Jackson groaned and paused the movie, pushing himself up off his bed to go downstairs, where he reheated himself some pizza and grabbed one of his dad's beers out of the fridge. He then returned to his room. He did not want to think about anything anymore. Explosions, car chases, and hot girls. That was what he wanted to focus on.
Stiles was not at school again the next day. Nobody seemed to notice, except Jackson. For that matter, Scott was not at school. Neither was Allison. Jackson's brow furrowed a little as he took his seat in mythology, glancing around a little. It was weird to not see Stiles in his ridiculous, red hoodie while goofing off with Scott. That was normal. That was routine. This... this was not. This had Jackson on edge.
It was after lunch when Jackson finally saw Stiles filter in with the rest of the crowd. His lip was busted, face bruised, and he seemed to limp a little. The teen was quiet for the first time in forever, and he was flanked by Isaac and Boyd. The later two seemed to be tense, as if waiting for someone to jump out and try to hurt Stiles. From the way that Stiles jumped when someone slammed a locker near-by, maybe that was exactly what they were waiting for.
Jackson wanted to ask, wanted to know what was going on. He did not like not knowing. He did not like being on the outside. That was the best thing about Beacon Hills. Everybody knew everything about everyone. Stiles seemed to escape that radar, however, and that had Jackson's nerves on end. He needed to figure out what it was that he was missing. That would be difficult with Lahey following Stiles around the school like a lost puppy.
Surprisingly, Stiles was alone at their tutoring session that evening. Jackson wanted to ask; but, he didn't. Instead, he focused on his work, ignoring the smug look on Stiles' bruised face when the other teen realized that Jackson had made his corrections on the English paper. "What happened to your face, Stilinski?" Jackson finally grunted out near the end of their session.
"Looks more hideous than normal, I know," replied Stiles with a shrug, avoiding answering the question with a joke.
"You're not hideous."
Jackson's simple expression of... something that Stiles could not name had the younger teen sitting there with a confused expression. Had the hottest guy in school really just complimented him offhandedly? Jackson looked unimpressed at the confused look on the other teen's face, and he rolled his eyes before saying, "C'mon, Stilinski. You of all people should know you're not hideous. You're not tolerable for more than small doses, but you're not terrible to look at."
"Thanks... I think. Not exactly sure whether I should be flattered or insulted," replied Stiles with a furrowed brow. Jackson shot Stiles an unamused expression, lifting an eyebrow before looking back down at his homework. "Jeeze, you're nearly as good as... other people at the whole silent, brooding thing."
"Other people?" questioned Jackson as Stiles started to gather his things. He received nothing but a nod in answer as Jackson simply watched the younger boy.
Stiles seemed to be completely undeterred by Jackson's gaze on him, and he double checked that he had everything. "I'm going to be late for work. I shou- Derek!" Jackson's brow furrowed and he turned in his seat to watch as Stiles started to lead Derek Hale out of the library. "Later, Jackson!" Stiles called over his shoulder.
Jackson sat there silently, trying to piece that one together. Sure, Derek had been exonerated of all charges, but still. The guy was kind of creepy. Why was Stiles, the sheriff's son hanging out with Hale? For that matter, why didn't Stiles look scared of the guy that had half the town scared? It took Jackson only a moment before he rolled his eyes and gathered his things. He was going to go to Danny's. Danny always knew how to distract him from anything. Surely the guy would be able to distract him from the pesky thoughts of an even peskier teen that he did not care about.
"Derek, you can't just show up at the school," Stiles said with a laugh as the alpha drove him to work at the coffee shop. "You're going to give the librarian a heart attack."
Derek simply smirked a little, not taking his eyes off the road. "Her or the principal," came Derek's gruff reply. "Besides, you were late."
"I know," groaned Stiles, resting his head back on the seat. "I've never been late so far, so let's hope that I'm not in too much trouble. Is Scott with Allison?"
"Mmhmm. That's why I'm here to get your sorry ass since the Jeep..."
"How is my baby?
Derek rolled his eyes at the look of absolute concern that crossed the teen's face, though he smiled faintly in amusement. "It'll be fine with repairs. How're you feeling?"
Stiles rolled his shoulder in a shrug, fiddling with the hem of his shirt. "I'm healing. It'll be fine. I'm fine. Promise."
The younger male flashed a brilliant grin in Derek's direction as they stopped outside the coffee shop that Stiles worked at. "Hey, Stiles. What's with that Jackson kid?" The alpha rolled his eyes when Stiles fixed a blank, confused stare in his direction. "He's been watching you a lot lately."
"Who knows? Probably trying to think of a new and clever way to be a rich bastard who picks on people for sport."
"Has he hurt you?"
"Wha-? No. Not physically," he answered with a shrug. Sure, some of the insults had gotten to him in the past; but, it was all water on a swan's back, or however that silly saying went. "He's harmless, Derek. Kinda like an overgrown, Sourwolf who is late for his date." Stiles smirked and then held up his hands in defeat as Derek glared at him before grabbing his bag and getting out of the Camaro to head into the little coffee shop that he spent much too much time in, learning about magic while working.
