Chapter Two – Teeth And Claws Might Make Me Sore, But Words Will Hurt Forever

She sees them walking in a straight line,

That's not really her style,

They all got the same heart-beat,

But hers is falling behind.

Cool Kids/Echosmith

Disclaimer: I do not own Teen Wolf or Buffy The Vampire Slayer, nor do I earn any form of profit from this work of fiction.

"Kevin!" I shouted as I banged through the front door half-an-hour later after making sure Scott was safe at home. "We've got a major problem, with a capital Pain In My Ass!"

Kevin ran out of the living room to meet me in the entry-way, as predicted he was in his navy suit with his black hair tousled from running his hands through it while reading and his dark brows standing out as he paled at the sight of me dripping wet on the carpet. "What happened, love? Are you hurt?" He asked looking at me with large dark-brown eyes behind his reading glasses.

"I'm fine," I confirmed as I peeled off my jacket and hung it on the coat-rack by the door and then toed off my boots. "But Scott certainly isn't."

"Scott?" Kevin's brow furrowed in confusion as he trailed behind me on my way to the kitchen.

"Yup," I popped the 'p', pouring a bowl of cereal and propping myself up on the counter to eat it. "And it's all my fault. Or your fault, I suppose," I shot him a look from beneath my lashes as I shoveled another spoonful of Lucky Charms into my mouth.

"My fault?" He asked incredulously.

"Yup," I brandished my spoon at him. "Since he got bitten by a freaking werewolf while I was taking a photo of your dead girl." I threw my phone at him, glaring when he fumbled in catching it and almost dropped it on the floor. "There's your research, Q. Now, what we need to figure out is why there's a werewolf running around Beacon Hills with the ability to shift on days that aren't the full moon."

"What?" Kevin boggled at me, eyes round as he looked up from the picture on my phone. "What do you mean?"

"I mean that I just went up against an honest to Gods werewolf a week before the full moon. You know, with the teeth, and the claws, and the glowing red eyes of hate?" I waved my spoon around flippantly.

"But-but that's impossible," Kevin said, looking down at the picture again. "What did it look like?"

"Like a big black wolf. With glowing red eyes," I stared at him. "Seriously, it was the size of an SUV. I tackled it full-force and only moved it, like, eight feet. Plus – it was lucid."

"Lucid?" He squawked at me, eyebrows jumping up towards his hairline. "How'd you know it was lucid?"

"We had a good old fashioned conversation, I reminded him that animal fur was so last season," I narrowed my eyes at Kevin before bursting out, "Because I'm not injured, that's why! It let us go! What kind of blood-lust frenzied wolf-man lets the pretty blonde girl go?" I shuddered, "And the way it looked at me...it was intelligent."

"And this...Scott?" Kevin inquired after a long moment.

"I think he got bit," I blinked across the kitchen at my Watcher. "He was really nice, even though I was the strange girl who ran into his friend in the woods in the middle of the night. He made sure I was okay and helped me hide from the cops so I wouldn't get in trouble. And then I went and got him attacked by a werewolf!"

My sudden wailing made Kevin appear very uncomfortable – I guess Watcher training didn't cover how to comfort upset teenage girls. And I was! Upset that is. I knew that Scott had told me that he was okay, but I had noticed the way he favored his side and kept tugging his hoodie down unnecessarily. The kid had gotten bitten. And it was all. My. Fault.

"I'm a terrible slayer," I informed Kevin matter-of-factly, waving my spoon around to emphasise my words. "I"m not even here a week and some kid gets bit by a werewolf. All because I only had Mr Pointy on me instead of Lord Stabbington! Or even Chewy! Up against a werewolf all Mr Pointy would've been good for is picking his teeth after he was finished eating me and my friend!"

"Scott's your friend?" Kevin asked confusedly. "Didn't you only meet him tonight?"

"Well, he's a prospective friend!" I corrected. "A possible friend. A friendly acquaintance with the ability to become more. Except he's not anymore because I got him turned into a freaking werewolf!"

The room went quiet as Kevin and I both stared at the spoon quivering next to his head where I'd accidentally embedded it into the kitchen wall.

"Um...I'll-uh-fix that," I said with a wince.

Kevin approached me with a sympathetic look on his face, "Love, this isn't your fault alright? So stop blaming yourself. All we can do now is keep an eye on the boy and see if he turns. So he may still be a prospective friend, eh?"

"They either turn or the die," My voice was soft as I watched the tentative grin on his face soften. I was completely conflicted. I was a slayer, he was a werewolf. If he hurt anyone I'd be forced to deal with him, regardless of the fact that he was a nice guy. Wasn't slaying something that was caused by an infection like Lycanthropy a little bit different than something caused by a demonic curse such as Vampirism? Was it even still slaying? Or was it erring on the side of murder?

Gods-damned shades of gray, I missed my childhood days where the world was more black and white.

"Then I best start researching this new type of werewolf so we can help him then, eh?" He told me, letting me know that we wouldn't be abandoning Scott to whatever plans the wolf in the preserve had for him. "You go clean yourself up and go to bed, first day of school tomorrow remember? I'll bring you up a cuppa if you like?"

I found myself smiling despite myself – of course his Britishness would try and solve the problem with tea. "That'd be nice," I told him as I slipped down off of the counter. "Thanks Kevin. I'm sorry I yelled at you."

He shrugged, skinny shoulders moving beneath his white Oxford, his suit jacket having been abandoned a while ago, "That's what Watchers are for, innit? Now stop dripping all over the floor, I've got enough to mop up as it is. Upstairs with you."

"Aye aye, Cap'n," I mock saluted before turning around and heading toward a hot shower and hopefully a dreamless sleep.

I'd been worried when I moved here that nobody would like me. That I'd have no friends and have to eat lunch in the library with Kevin. That I'd be completely behind in all my classes. Not that I'd accidentally get one of my classmates potentially turned into a werewolf.

I couldn't help but feel like the worst slayer ever.

I was at what appeared to be a high-school dance.

There were different coloured balloons littering the floor of the gymnasium and streamers were strung up everywhere. A disco ball scattered colours across the darkened room like sunlight bouncing off of a crystal in a window. A soft lilting tune wrapped itself around me and I found myself swaying along to it, my hair brushing back and forward across my bare shoulders with the movement.

The dance-floor was only occupied by two couples:
Scott was slow-dancing with a pale brunette, both of them completely lost to the world as they stood as close as was socially acceptable with their noses brushing as they smiled softly at each other. The other couple was Stiles with his hands on the tiny waist of a gorgeous red-head that kept at least a foot of space between them at all times as he stared down at her blissfully.

I looked down at myself to find I was dressed in poofy white dress that had a million layers of tulle and was completely impractical for fighting. But I could certainly appreciate how pretty it was.

I became aware of someone sitting next to me from my vantage spot half-way up the bleachers. I turned to see high wide cheekbones and large green eyes beneath straight dark brows. His short black hair was tousled and his broad shoulders filled out the leather jacket he was wearing.

"You can't save everyone," His voice was a low rumble and his face was sympathetic as he gazed down at me.

"Of courseI can," I stubbornly told him, not appreciating that he was implying that I wasn't strong enough. Even if he was beautiful – he was wrong. I had to be strong enough. I couldn't lose anyone else. I couldn't fail again.

"No, you can't."

Looking to my other side I found another boy sitting next to me, his expression soft even though his features were sharp and chiseled by Michelangelo himself, sad blue eyes meeting mine.

I stood, spinning around to pin the two of them with a glare that I thought spoke for itself. "I'm the hero. That's what heroes do – we save everyone," Even as I said the words, I realized how naive they were. What was it? The heroes are always stalwart and true, the villains are easily distinguished by their pointy horns or black hats, and we always defeat them and save the day. No one ever dies, and everybody lives happily ever after.

It was a pretty lie.

I turned back to the dance-floor where a large black shadow was circling around the four oblivious teenagers, glowing red eyes staring right at me. A shudder ran through me and I felt something cold and heavy settle in the pit of my stomach.

"You have a choice ahead of you," The dark haired man told me.

"But will you be able to make the right decision when the time comes?" The blue eyed boy asked.

"Chose correctly and everyone lives."

"But if she tries to save all of them, everyone will die."

While I was distracted, the wolf had stopped circling the teenagers on the dance-floor and had instead started to silently pad up the bleachers towards me. I looked down at myself, dark red was blooming across my dress like a flower, as I felt a blinding flash of white-hot heat engulf my midsection.

With a snarl the wolf leapt at my throat.

I awoke with a new-found hatred for prophetic dreams.

Rolling over I grabbed the journal out of my bedside-table and a pen, a glance at the clock letting me know that at least I'd only woken up 20 minutes before my alarm was set to go off anyway. Scooting back I propped myself up against my pillows and leaned the leather-bound book against my knees. Finding a clear page I started writing down everything I remembered from my dream. And then copied it all out again for Kevin.

Once finished, I dropped the journal back on the bedside-table before slowly dragging myself out of bed. First day at a new school, may as well take my time getting ready.

When I made my way downstairs 45 minutes later I found Kevin sitting at the kitchen counter with an ancient-looking book spread out in front of him and a cup of tea in his hand. Next to him he had already placed a bowl of cereal and a glass of orange juice for me. Dropping my messenger-bag onto the floor I hopped up onto the stool and took a sip of juice.

"Thanks," I told him.

"Don't worry about it, love," He shrugged nonchalantly as though it were no big deal. "Did you sleep well?"

Groaning I placed the piece of paper I'd pulled from my journal on top of his open book. "About as well as anyone plagued by confusing snippets of the future."

"Oh, you had a prophetic dream?" He perked up, snatching the piece of paper and rapidly reading what I'd written. Once done he looked at me over his glasses, "So it seems that eventually you're going to have to make a difficult choice. One that involves a few select people, eh?"

"Looks like it," I grumpily replied around a mouthful of cereal.

"Well, I wouldn't worry about it too much just yet," He said cheerily in an attempt to lure me out of my bad mood. "On the plus side I think I managed to find some information about the werewolf you encountered last night."

"You did?"

"Yep," He said with the manic excitement that seemed to take over him whenever he learned anything new. "It seems to be part of a sub-species of the classic werewolf we've encountered before, more of a shape-shifter where they are still some-what coherent during the full-moon and have the ability to shift at will. The one that you encountered is what I'm fairly certain is known as an Alpha, due to the colour of it's eyes. Alpha's have red eyes, while their Betas have gold."

"Well, that's just beautiful," I quipped. "So I need to go around and stare deeply into the eyes of every person in this town until someone flashes a bit of crimson goodness my way?"

Kevin coughed, "Uh, not quite. To be perfectly honest, the best way to find out if someone is a werewolf is to use wolfsbane. I'll have an amulet made up for you as soon as possible."

"Wolfsbane?"

"Yes. It triggers quite a sever allergic reaction in these shifters, as well as being quite lethal in concentrated doses. Think of it as werewolf holy water and crucifixes."

"Ah yes, the old slayer bread and butter," I nodded sagely as my fingers automatically went to the ornate silver cross resting against my chest. A goodbye gift from Dawn, she said every slayer needed one in case someone with a case of the bumpies got particularly amorous. She said it had belonged to Buffy, once upon a time.

"I'm assuming that the Alpha bit Scott because it's wanting to build up a pack," Kevin said as he finished his tea and started making moves towards heading to the school. "Apparently they're at their strongest when in a pack. And Betas are very loyal towards their Alpha."

Stacking my breakfast dishes in the dishwasher I hitched my messenger-bag onto my shoulder and followed Kevin outside to his car. He had gotten a job at the high-school as a librarian – the exact same thing Giles had done with Buffy apparently. It was so he'd be more accessible if anything happened according to him, I think it was just because his inherent Britishness needed him to be around as many books as possible at all times. On the plus side at least, it meant I didn't have to carry all my weapons around with me constantly as well as school books since he could keep a stash with him in his office.

"Alright, remember someone from administration will fetch you and escort you to your first class," He told me. "Do you have your class schedule?"

"Right here!" I chirped, waving it towards his face. "Oh look! English first period – your favourite subject!"

"Actually," Kevin informed me with a grin, "My favourite subject at school was physics."

"Of course it was," I fake-groaned, smirking at him. "You are such a nerd."

"I'll remember that when you're asking for help with your homework."

Pulling up out front of the school, Kevin let me out at the front entrance before continuing around to the faculty car-park.

Standing on the sidewalk the campus looked like almost any high school in California. Large and made of red brick with white trim, a tidy quad scattered with dead leaves courtesy of the trees dotting the lawn and wooden benches, and groups of teenagers catching up after the summer. Throwing my shoulders back and tossing my hair I made my way up the front walk, ignoring the curious glances and whispers that followed me, dropping myself down onto the small stone wall next to the front steps. I stared down at my black stocking-clad knees in deep thought about what Kevin had told me about the werewolf I'd encountered last night when a familiar voice cut through the chatter surrounding me and I looked up.

"That is freaking awesome!" Stiles spluttered excitedly, gesticulating enthusiastically. "I mean this has seriously got to be the best thing to happen to this town since..." He trailed off distractedly and my eyes widened as the red-headed girl from my dream strutted past me, her short plaid skirt swaying teasingly with every step. Make that the first big shock of the day. "...since the birth of Lydia Martin. Hey Lydia!" He said enthusiastically to the girl who continued past him, a small smirk on her face being the only acknowledgment that she knew someone was talking to her. "You look like...you're gonna ignore me." The mixture of frustration and yearning in his voice stirred something dangerously close to pity in me as I watched him staring after Lydia.

Well, until he stomped his foot and turned to Scott and accusingly stated, "You're the cause of this, you know?"

"Uh huh?" Scott's response appeared to be indulgently well practiced.

"Dragging me down to your nerd-depths. I'm a nerd by association," I raised my eyebrows at his words, the ringing bell covering the laugh of disbelief that escaped between my lips. "I've been Scarlet-Nerded by you."

Okay, that one was actually pretty funny and this time both of them heard my laugh.

Both heads of dark hair swung in my direction from their position at the foot of the stairs, Scott smiling nervously at me and Stiles staring with his mouth gaping open. I grinned at the two from behind my dark wayfarers and wiggled my fingers in greeting, before tilting my head to the side and tapping my finger against my wrist in the universal gesture for running late. Scott raised his hand in greeting and then grabbed Stiles by the jacket and dragged him inside since the pale boy just continued to stare dumbly at me.

What a weirdo.

I understood Scott's nervousness though, he'd had the night to process what had occurred in the woods and was probably struggling to believe that I had tackled a giant wolf off of him. Stiles' reaction though was definitely strange. I decided to put it down to just general lack of interaction with the female gender.

My musings were interrupted when someone sat down next to me and I turned to see a pretty face dominated by large brown eyes and a shy smile, a delicate hand pushing her heavy fall of dark hair back behind one ear. "Um, hi?" She said in a soft voice, her nervousness making the statement a question.

And now we have Big Shock Number Two as I came face to face with the girl Scott had been dancing with in my dream.

"Hi," I replied with a smile, quickly hiding my surprise at recognizing her since we'd never actually met. "Take a seat, we can be new girls together. Maybe, with the two of us we could make one not-new girl."

Letting out a soft laugh she relaxed slightly, "Is it that obvious?"

I raised my eyebrows, "Well, the biggest give-away is that you're out here with me as opposed to being in there," I gestured towards the building beside us. "That, and you're projecting the nervousness I'm desperately trying to cover up with big sunglasses and not-so-funny quips."

This time her laugh was a little louder, a little stronger, "I didn't want to comment on the glasses, but the quips seem to be working just fine."

"Trust me," I leaned towards her conspiratorially. "Beneath this well made-up veneer of blonde hair and witty come-backs there is a trembling girl who's freaking out over the possibility of tripping over on the way to her desk or that she remembered everything but a pen."

The girls face suddenly went even paler and her pretty pink mouth formed an almost comical 'O', she began desperately rifling through the large purse on her lap. "Oh my God, I forgot a pen!" Her voice was thin with anxiety and I felt almost guilty as though I were the cause of it.

Pulling my messenger-bag into my lap I began rummaging through it's contents: Journal. Chewing-gum. School books. Hair brush. Stake. Back-Up – my butterfly knife. Phone. And... the sparkly pink pen with the pom-pom end that Dawn had given me as a joke with my dream journal. Of course that was the only pen that I had decided to pack this morning. Again, I found myself hating prophetic dreams and how one of the side-effects of them appeared to be absent-mindedness.

Gingerly holding the pen between my fingers I looked at her sympathetically. "You can borrow this if you like?" I offered. "I can grab one off of someone else, I'm sure."

Shaking her head so that her hair swayed around her shoulders she smiled gratefully at me, "No that's alright. I'll source my own – thanks though."

"I'm Fred, by the way," I told her, not blaming her one bit for turning down the pen. Gods, I was trying to do the same thing by pawning it off on her. "First day buddies?"

"Allison," She replied with a smile. "And definitely first day buddies."

"Hi there, I'm Mr Pointon," A jovial male voice said from behind me and I smirked as Allison jumped in shock at the unexpected sound. "I'm so sorry to have kept the two of you waiting. You must be Allison Argent," He addressed Allison first who had gracefully risen to her feet. Turning to me he continued, "And you are Wi-"

"Fred," I cut him off with a firm voice and a bright smile as I bounced to my feet. "Nice to meet you sir."

He seemed a bit perplexed about my interruption but powered on regardless, "Well, welcome to Beacon Hills – both of you. I'm sure you're both a bit nervous, but luckily you're both in the same first period class – if you'll just follow me?"

"Absolutely," Allison chirped and the both of us followed him into the school.

"So Allison," Mr Pointon began conversationally. "You were saying earlier that San Francisco wasn't where you grew up?"

"No, but we lived there for more than a year – which is unusual in my family," Allison admitted, casting a glance at me and I grinned up at the taller girl, hiding the wince that had gone through me at the mention of San Francisco.

"And you, Fred?" The older man addressed me now. "You spent the last semester on exchange in Scotland, didn't you? That must've been quite exciting for a Sophomore."

"That's right, sir," I told him with a nod. "It was very..." Educational on the slayage of supernatural creatures and stopping impending apocalypses – apocalypsi? "...Scottish." I settled on with a firm nod of my head and a flash of my teeth.

"Well, hopefully the two of you will settle into Beacon Hills smoothly," He said in a reassuring voice, a raised eyebrow his only indication that he'd found my answer about my exchange trip odd at all. That being said, I wasn't wrong. Scotland was very Scottish. "Here we are," He announced, throwing open a door to our right.

I felt my tummy get a little twisty and after sharing a glance with Allison I saw that I wasn't alone in my nervousness. Sure, give me a vampire and I'd beat him down all while insulting his fashion sense – but a class full of teenagers? That was a whole other kettle of fish, as Kevin would say. Teeth and claws might make me sore, but words can hurt forever.

I was ashamed to say that when I finally entered the room to find twenty students eyeballing me that I froze momentarily until Allison gave me a soft nudge with her shoulder and an anxious attempt at a reassuring smile. I was a Gods-damned slayer, and I would not be intimidated by a bunch judgmental adolescents – regardless of the fact that I was also a judgmental adolescent. Squaring my shoulders and tossing my hair I slipped off my sunglasses and placed them in my bag, my hand lingering on my hip as I jutted it casually to the side.

"Class, please welcome our new students – Allison Argent and..." He eyed me and thought better of saying my full name. "...Fred Ackerman. Please do your best to make them both feel welcome. Mr Neske, I leave them to you." Mr Pointon nodded amiably to the squat red-faced man by the board with glasses perched precariously on the tip of his nose before taking his leave and closing the door behind him. Allison and I stared expectantly at the man in the maroon Oxford and beige sweater-vest and he indicated the back right corner of the room with a jerk of his head, "Girls, go take your seats." He said not-unkindly.

Sharing a glance, I allowed Allison to go first thinking that she needed the feeling of being able to control where she sat more than I did. Or at least, that was until I saw who the last two free seats were behind. One was behind Scott, and that seemed to be the one that Allison was making a beeline for, leaving me the seat that was diagonally behind hers and next to the window right at the back of the class and behind...Stiles.

The lanky boy with the dark-brown buzz-cut and mole-speckled face stared at me dumbly again, though this time his throat bobbed with a nervous gulp when his eyes ran down my length and lingered at the hem of my brown suede mini-skirt. Narrowing my eyes – I'd heard him pining over Lydia Martin not even 20 minutes ago and now he was checking me out. Were all teenage boys this fickle? - I purposely bumped his desk with my hip as I passed by, jolting the arm he was currently leaning against the desk as his hand cupped his jaw and causing him to slip and smack his chin into the desk. Smirking, I smothered my soft sniggering as I dropped into the chair behind him, grabbing out my pen and pretending not to notice as he turned around to glare at me, rubbing the red mark on his chin.

Out of the corner of my eye I saw Scott swivel around in his chair and offer a pen towards a blushing Allison with a shy smile and big puppy-dog eyes. She accepted it, ducking her head as he slowly spun back around to face the front of the class. I winked at her when she glanced my way and she scrunched her nose up with an embarrassed smile, shaking her hair forward to hide the delicate pink blush blooming against her cheeks.

My third big shock of the day was when the guy with the sad blue eyes from my dream had walked into my math class just before lunch. I'd been chatting with the cute boy on my left who had introduced himself as 'Danny' and I'd almost instantly identified as gay, a skill I'd mastered living in San Francisco. He had been in the middle of telling me that I should feel free to sit with him and his friends at lunch and that he'd walk me to my locker first to drop off some of my books since it was two down from his.

"Hey, Jackson," Danny had greeted the boy as he dropped into the seat in front of him.

"Danny," Jackson had returned, eyes on me as his lips quirked into an arrogant smirk. He was the sort of boy who was well aware of how attractive he was and wasn't afraid to hide it. The rolled up sleeves of his light plaid button-up strained against biceps he obviously worked very hard on and his dark blonde hair was styled straight out of a magazine. His blue eyes scanned me from top to bottom and I must have passed whatever test he was giving me because he asked Danny, "Who's your friend?"

"This is Fred," Danny introduced with a warm smile. "She's one of the new girls as well as this years locker-buddy. Fred, this is Jackson – my best friend."

"Hi," I waved my stupid pink pen in his direction, not missing the amused look in his eyes as the pom-pom wobbled back and forwards. "Ready for a fun-filled lesson of games and frivolity?"

"Fred really doesn't like math," Danny explained to Jackson. "It was actually the first thing she said to me."

"No," I corrected him. "The first thing I said to you was 'is anyone sitting here'. Then I proceeded to wax poetic on my hatred of anything involving counting past the number ten because that's the amount of fingers I have. And that I hoped you were good with numbers because I have very keen eye-sight and a blurry moral compass."

Jackson let out a bark of laughter at me words. "I like her," He informed Danny while pointing a finger in my direction.

"Thank the Gods for that – now I can sleep easy tonight knowing that you approve of me." I drawled with a flick of my eyebrows.

"You just received the Jackson Whittemore seal of approval. Second only to the Lydia Martin seal of approval." Danny informed me with a grin tugging at the corners of his lips at the scowl Jacksons face had settled into at my flippant reply. But really, what did I care if this boy liked me or not? Why did his opinion matter? Short answer: it didn't.

I sighed dramatically, "And here I thought I'd flunked the written."

Both boys laughed – though Jackson seemed a bit forced about it – and Jackson said, "Wait til you meet Lydia."

I couldn't tell if that was a good thing, or a bad thing to be honest with everything I'd heard about Lydia Martin.

Entering the cafeteria with Danny and Jackson on either side of me ensured that I had 80% of the rooms populations attention. I saw Scott and Stiles sitting together at a table of the other side of the room, Scott's eyebrows scrunched in confusion at seeing me with the two boys while Stiles was once again staring at me dumb-founded with his mouth wide open. I raised a hand and waved at the two of them – well, Scott – my nose scrunching up for a split-second the only thing betraying how uncomfortable I was feeling with all the attention I was receiving. It was as we were approaching the table where Lydia was sitting with the rest of what I assumed were the 'Cool Kids' with our trays of food that I looked out the window and spotted Allison sitting at one of the benches outside alone.

"Uh, actually guys I'm gonna have to take a rain-check on lunch," I told the two boys who stared down at me incredulously. As though it were unheard of to pass up an opportunity to sit with them. All I could think of was Mean Girls references and I had to bite down to urge to laugh out loud at the image of Jackson dressed head to toe in pink. "Thanks for the invite – seriously, it was all kinds of the good. But it's just that I forgot I'd already made plans with someone else."

With a smile and wave goodbye I left the two boys staring behind me bemusedly as I headed outside towards Allison. And I didn't feel a hint of regret about choosing her over the cool kids, I'd said that we were first-day buddies and I was going to act like it.

I enjoyed my lunch with Allison, we talked about how our days were going so far with her teasing me when I said she'd better appreciate me sacrificing the possibility of becoming popular to keep her company. I learned that it was because of her dads job that they moved around so much, she was pretty vague about what exactly he did – just mentioning that it was 'security'. She told me about her last school in San Francisco and how her mom was a buyer for a boutique. In return I told her how I was living with my Uncle and that he was the school librarian and also obsessed with tea. I told her about Scotland – saying that I had been at an all-girls boarding school and replacing all of the slayer subjects with normal school subjects. I told her about Dawn and how I missed her, and she told me about her aunt Kate who was more like a sister and how much she missed her too.

I shared two other classes with Allison, Scott, and Stiles, those being Chemistry and Economics. The Econ teacher was like something out of a show on MTV. Very intense. Very high-strung. And more than a little inappropriate in the comments he made towards students. That being said, I found him absolutely hilarious. And the Chemistry teacher, Mr Harris, seemed to have it in for Stiles for some reason and I wondered if the older mans snide comments towards a student were even allowed I mean, sure the twitchy boy hadn't made the best first impression on me, but a nice guy like Scott wouldn't be best friends with him if the kid had zero redeeming qualities. He didn't seem like the kind of person that would follow just anyone out into the woods in the middle of the night to search for dead bodies.

At the end of the day I found myself next to Allison while she finished grabbing the things she needed for homework out of her locker. And then I found myself pointedly ignoring the puppy-dog eyes Scott was shooting her from across the hall, letting her have her moment as she shyly smiled over at him.

That's when Lydia Martin decided to give me a heart-attack.

"Your skirt – not bad."

I stared at the gorgeous red-head as she tilted her head to the side and pointed one perfectly manicured finger at me, her large green eyes calculating and her glossy full lips arranged into the perfect pout. I glanced down at the skirt in question before meeting her eyes again. "Gee, thanks?" I replied, my confusion turning the statement into a question as I tried not to quaver beneath her scrutinizing appraisal.

Get yourself together girl, you could crush her like a grape.

With a nod she turned to Allison, giving her the same once over I had just endured before seemingly being content with what she saw. "That jacket is absolutely killer," She informed Allison as she played with one of the perfect curls falling across her chest. "Where'd you get it?"

Allison stared at her, obviously lost for words, until her mouth caught up with her brain and she answered, "My mom was a buyer for a boutique back in San Francisco." She gripped the strap of her bag just a little bit tighter and I was glad to see I wasn't the only one intimidated by the intense girl in front of us.

"And you are my new best friend," Lydia informed her, pointing at her as her lips slowly spread into a smile.

Allison threw me a nervous look and I shrugged my shoulders helplessly – what was I supposed to do about it? Before I could even attempt to say anything, Jackson moved up behind Lydia and curled one arm around her tiny waist pulling her against him as they shared a deep kiss that made both Allison and I slightly uncomfortable to witness.

When they broke apart Jackson grinned down at me, "I see Lydia found you anyway. And this must be who you bailed on us for at lunch." He gave Allison a pointed look.

"Jackson, these are our new friends – Allison and Fred," Lydia informed him as she blinked up at him with ridiculously long lashes. I was a bit unnerved that she knew our names. "Allison's from San Francisco, and Fred just got back from Scotland." She added when Jackson just grinned down at us. Now I was really unnerved – the girl had done her research.

"I already know, Lyd," He told her with an indulgent smile. "Fred's in my math class with Danny."

"So!" Lydia stated, ignoring her boyfriend. "This weekend, there's a party!"

"A party?" Allison's voice had taken on that thin anxious tone it had had this morning when she realised she'd forgotten a pen.

"It's Friday night," Jackson added. "You both should come."

"Uh... I-uh-I can't," Allison shook her head and avoided eye-contact with everyone as she shuffled in her boots. "It's Family Night this Friday. Thanks for asking."

I shot a look at her, knowing that Family Night was complete and utter bullshit. This girl was one of the worst liars I'd ever seen – and that was including myself. And she'd also left me with no choice but to at least make an appearance at this party, since I could tell from the determined look in Lydia's eyes that both of us weren't allowed to decline. One exception could be made, but not two.

"Well, you need to at least," Jackson addressed me, proving my assumption correct. "Everyone's going after the scrimmage."

"You mean like football?" Allison asked with an interested look on her face.

"I love football," I said at the same time, perking up. I used to sit on my dads lap while he'd watch the games on TV when I was younger, both of us taking bets on who would win the Superbowl.

Jackson scowled at the two of us, "Football's a joke in Beacon," He scoffed. "The sport here's lacrosse. We've won the championship for the last three years."

Really? Lacrosse? Lacrosse wasn't the joke? I felt as though lacrosse should be the joke and kept waiting for a punchline that never came.

"Because of a certain team captain," Lydia simpered as she ran her fingers through his short hair.

"Well, we have practice in a few minutes," Jackson offered. "That is, if you don't have anywhere else to be...?"

"Well I was going to –" Lydia didn't allow Allison to finish her excuse this time as she linked her arms through either of ours.

"Perfect! You're both free and you can both keep me company on the stands," Lydia stated with a sweet smile and a voice that brooked no arguments.

Ten minutes later the three of us were huddled on the cold metal bleachers watching the boys of the Beacon Hills lacrosse team run around the field in their padding and maroon shirts. Turns out the Econ teacher was also the lacrosse coach, something that made his intensity a little more understandable.

I was surprised to find both Scott and Stiles down there, neither of them really striking me as the athletic types. While definitely having the energy, Stiles was a little too uncoordinated for a game where the aim was trying to get a small ball into a certain area. And Scott had proven himself last night to be severely asthmatic. That being said, kudos to both of them. It was always good to have goals – even blatantly unrealistic ones.

Watching Scott closely as he headed towards the goal with a defeated slump to his shoulders while the other boys lined up in front of him, I reminded myself that if he was turning his asthma would no longer be a problem. He'd be in the same boat as me – trying to hide just how different he was from everyone else. Having to constantly make a conscious effort to monitor how much strength or speed he was expending so nothing appeared out of the ordinary. Trying to be normal.

I shuddered.

"Are you cold?" Allison asked beside me, concerned. "I have some mittens in my bag if you want them?"

"I'm okay," I pulled my leather jacket around me a little tighter as I stared down at Scott. "Just a funny shiver down my spine."

"Someone must have walked over your grave," Lydia sang on my other side with a teasing smile.

"Who's he?" Allison leaned across me to ask Lydia with a tilt of her head towards the goal.

Scott was staring at the ball cradled in the pocket of his lacrosse stick positively dumbstruck. Not that I blamed him after the first ball had hit him clean in the face, his brain was probably a little rattled after the blow that had sent him sprawling onto the grass.

Over the sounds of Stiles' jubilant cheering as Scott continued to block every shot that came his way, I answered Allison in a tight voice, "That's Scott."

I was torn. I was positively ecstatic that Scott wasn't dead or dying. On the other hand though, I couldn't stop the wiggling fingers of guilt from digging around in my tummy knowing that I'd condemned the kid because I hadn't been good enough. With the full moon in four days I'd have to keep a very close eye on Scott – the kid and this town were now my responsibility. Especially with the way he had been looking at Allison today.

Scott managed to block an incredible shot made by Jackson – in a show of aggressive machismo so often demonstrated by males – and everyone cheered loudly as they got caught up in the excitement. Including Lydia who had sprung to her feet and was smirking down at her boyfriend who was looking personally insulted that an apparent nobody like Scott had bested him.

It was as though Scott had brought dishonor upon Jackson, his family, and his cow just by catching a ball. It was a complete and utter over-reaction in my opinion – wasn't the point of a strong team having strong players? As in, multiple? At the same time though, it kinda reminded me of Buffy and how she was used to being best but now had to adjust to other girls being just as strong, fast, and smart as she was. It can be a bit unnerving to discover that something you thought was special for you is also special for someone else.

Unless of course, it wasn't an extreme reaction to a bit of competition on the field and more towards Lydia's actions on the stands. I wouldn't appreciate my boyfriend cheering quite so enthusiastically for someone other than me either. If I ever got a boyfriend, that was. Gods, how would I explain the bruises and the late nights and the running off at the drop of a hat? It worried me that the only excuse I could even think of currently was 'Fight Club'.

Allison had remained seated next to me, smiling widely as Scott gazed up at her from the throng of teenage boys with a dazed look on his face.

Movement across the field caught my eye and I frowned at the black-clad male standing in the shadows of the trees bordering the lacrosse field. It looked as though I wasn't the only one keeping an eye on Scott.

Alright, Tall, Dark, and Mysterious – let's get a look at your eyes.

A/N:

Thanks to the guest who was first to review (make an account so I can reply to you directly! lol) to answer the question of who I picture Fred as, I actually based her on Kristen Bell in Veronica Mars. Some of their personality is even pretty similar - both of them like to hide the fact that they're soft-hearted insecure marshmallows beneath a layer of snark and false bravado. Plus the internal monologue thing too.

If anyone's interested in my posting schedule, I'm gonna try to go for weekly. I want to make sure I'm always a few chapters ahead in my writing, but if life starts to get in the way there may be the odd week where I don't have anything available yet.

Feel free to let me know if you're actually enjoying what I'm writing - even if it's just what your favourite line is. Or your favourite thing about Fred. Or even what annoys you the most haha every bit helps towards improving my writing. Plus I just adore hearing little things like that - they make me smile. Or alternatively you can tell me what you didn't like, or what you thought could've been done better.

Also thank you jessicafae for reviewing as well - I'm just as excited as you are! - and everyone who's followed and favourited so far. It honestly makes my day to recieve those notifications - you have no idea haha

Happy reading!

-Susie Samurai