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My paintbrush flew across the wall, a layer of blue leaving it's trail. Stiles was carefully painting the black details. This piece was going to be bomb for my wall.
"Are we not going to talk about it?" I asked.
"Talk about what? The fact Scott is losing his mind or how he suddenly became good at sports?" Stiles said.
"The fact that your dad is under the impression that we are dating," I told him. "Because we aren't in case you didn't know."
"I tried to tell him, but he didn't believe me," Stiles said. "He said he saw it coming a mile away."
I scoffed. The Sheriff couldn't be serious. Me and Stiles? As friends, we were peanut butter and jelly, the perfect combination of sweet and nutty. As a couple, just not a good pairing.
"He's caught us in a lot of compromising positions," Stiles reminded me. "Like the time we had a paint fight."
"And the time we had the baby project," I said.
"And that time I got sprayed by a skunk and my shirt wouldn't come off."
"I told you that you needed to keep the front door closed," I told him.
"How was I supposed to know wildlife would think my house was a sanctuary?" Stiles said flailing his arm. That arm just happened to be holding the paintbrush.
I gasped when the cold paint splattered on my face. Stiles stared at the black paint before snickering. I growled and flung my paintbrush as Stiles, leaving a trail of blue on his shirt.
"Are we doing this?" Stiles asked.
"Hell yeah," I said before they devolved into an all out paint war. By the time we were finished, we were covered in paint and so was the wall as well as the plastic covering everything.
X
"You can't actually be serious about the werewolf thing Stiles," I said. We were rushing to the lacrosse field. "Werewolves are a made up story meant to scare children from messing with wild animals and going into the woods."
"They found wolf hairs," Stiles said exasperated. "What other way can it be explained? Scott didn't suddenly become an amazing athlete overnight and I know you noticed that he didn't need his inhaler at all."
I sighed. This didn't make any sense at all. Wolves hadn't been in California in over 60 years. Werewolves weren't real...were they?
X
I took my spot on the bleachers close to the bench and rubbed my hands together. It was the very first game of the season (well scrimmage) and it decided who was first line for the season. Last year it didn't end too well.
"You're Rocky right?"
I looked up to see the new girl, Allison. "Yeah."
"Mind if I sit with you?"
"Sure," I smiled. She smiled back and sat down beside me. "Lydia probably mentioned me as the strange girl who is at every lacrosse game, but I'll introduce myself. I'm Raquel Holloway, I prefer Rocky, and the reason I am at every game is because I'm best friends with two idiots on the team. Welcome to Beacon Hills."
She laughed. "Thanks. I'm Allison and Lydia said you were borderline psychotic."
"I promise I am completely sane," I told her.
The whistle blew signaling the start of the scrimmage which was fast and brutal. The ball was passed to Scott who took off running only to get brutally knocked down by Jackson. I winced when he hit the ground. Coach blew the whistle to stop the play and Scott got back up. Coach blew the whistle again to start the next play.
Scott and Jackson stood across from each other for the draw. The assistant coach dropped the ball and Scott took off. Oh my god he had the ball. He moved across the field with amazing speed and grace and he just flipped over a wall of three guys.
"What the hell?" I said under my breath. He shot the ball into the net perfectly. Allison stood up and clapped. I stood next to her, clapping and in complete shock. My eyes met Stiles and he had the same shocked look on his face.
"McCall! Get over here!" Coach yelled. Scott was in trouble. Coach probably thought he was on steroids or something. Scott jogged over to Coach. "What in the name of God was that? This is a lacrosse field. Are you trying out for the gymnastics team?" Well that went a little left.
"No Coach," Scott shook his head.
"What the hell was that?" Coach demanded.
"I-I don't know," Scott stuttered. "I was just trying to make the shot."
"Well you made the shot. And guess what buddy? You made first line."
The crowd cheered wildly. What in the hell was happening?
X
I sat on Stiles's bed looking through an old book on monsters. Consider myself suspicious of the strange going ons in Beacon Hill. Stiles sat at his computer, typing quickly and opening multiple windows, each one having to do with werewolf related things.
He printed out something and I looked over his shoulder. It was an old illustration of a werewolf. We were so caught up in our work that when someone knocked on the door, we both jumped.
Stiles closed his laptop and went to check who it was. He sighed. "Get in here." Scott came in and I plopped back on the bed. "You have to see this. We've been up all night reading. Websites, books, all this information."
"How much adderall have you had today?" Scott asked him.
"A lot," I told him. Stiles had been popping them like they were candy and I was buzzed on my fifth cup of coffee.
"Doesn't matter," Stiles said. "Listen." Scott threw his backpack on the bed and sat next to me.
"Is this about the body?" Scott asked. "Did they find who did it?"
"No they're still questioning people," I told him.
"Even Derek Hale," Stiles continued.
"That guy we saw in the woods?"
I nodded. "And Nathan. But that's not what we're talking about."
"What then?" Scott asked.
"Remember the joke from the other day," Stiles said. "Not a joke anymore." Scott was completely lost. "The wolf. The bite in the woods. I started doing all this reading. Do you even know why a wolf howls?"
"Should I?"
"It's a signal," I explained. "When a wolf is alone it howls to signal its location to the rest of the pack. So if you heard it howling that mean there are others. Maybe a whole pack of them."
"A whole pack of wolves?" Scott exclaimed.
"No. Werewolves," Stiles said.
Scott went from worry to confusion to irritation. "Are you seriously wasting my time with this? You know I'm picking Allison up in an hour." He stood up and grabbed his bag. Stiles stopped him.
"We saw you on the field yesterday Scott," he said. "Okay what you did wasn't just amazing. It was impossible."
"Okay so I made a good shot," Scott downplayed and went to leave only for Stiles to stop him again.
"No you made an incredible shot," he said taking Scott's bag and putting it back on the bed. I nodded in agreement. "The way you moved, the speed, your reflexes. People can't suddenly do that overnight. And then there's the hearing, the senses, and don't think I haven't noticed you don't need your inhaler anymore. You haven't used it since that night."
"It makes sense Scott," I agreed. "How else can you explain the sudden change?"
"Okay! I can't think about this right now," Scott said. "We'll talk about this tomorrow."
"Tomorrow!?" Stiles exclaimed. "What? No! The full moon is tonight! Don't you get it!" Well this isn't going how I expected. There was way too much testosterone in the room.
"Guys calm down," I tried.
"What are you trying to do? I just made starting lineup. I have a date with a girl I can't believe actually wants to go out with me," Scott ranted, totally ignoring me. "Everything in my life is somehow perfect. Why are you trying to ruin it?"
"We're not trying to ruin it Scott," I told him. "We're worried."
"You're cursed, Scott. And it's not just the moon that will cause you to physically change, it's also when your bloodlust will be at its peak," Stiles told him.
"Bloodlust?" Scott repeated, clearly he didn't believe us.
"Your urge to kill."
"I'm already starting to feel an urge to kill Stiles," Scott said, glaring at Stiles.
"You need to hear this," Stiles said grabbing a book, reading out of it. "The change can be caused by anger or anything that raises your pulse. And I've never seen anyone raise your pulse like Allison does. You have to cancel your date." Stiles got up and searched through Scott's backpack. "You gotta call her right now."
"What are you doing?" Scott asked.
"I'm getting her number," Stiles said.
"No give it to me!" Scott shouted, grabbing Stiles and slamming him against the wall. He raised his fist as if he was going to punch him.
"Scott no!" I yelled trying to pull him off of Stiles. "Put him down!" Scott pushed me back, hard and sent me to the floor. He threw Stiles's computer chair, breathing extremely hard.
He looked at the chair then to Stiles who was backed up against the wall then to me from my spot on the floor. "I'm sorry," he stuttered. "I-I got to go get ready for that party." Scott grabbed his bag and moved to leave. He looked at us, we still hadn't moved. "I'm sorry." He left.
Stiles helped me up. "Are you okay?" he asked.
"Just a scratch," I said referring to my arm. "Are you okay?"
"Just bruised and recovering from a slight heart attack," he told me. He picked up the chair and turned it around. Three long clawmarks were in the back of the chair.
"We have to go to that party, don't we?" I said.
"Yeah."
X
I grabbed a bottle of water. Alcohol wasn't really my thing. I preferred to stay alert at a party full of guys ready to take advantage of any girl.
"Hey."
I turned around to see Nathan. "Hey."
"I'm not sure if you remember me," he said over the music.
"Nathan Hale," I said. "You pushed me down the stairs and broke my leg in 7th grade."
"You slammed my hand in a locker and broke it in 6th grade," he retorted.
"Because you hit me with your bike in 5th grade and gave me a concussion," I reminded him. "You were the one who tried to make my life a living hell when we were younger."
"I was a kid," he said. "I didn't know how to appreciate beauty."
I snorted. Was this dude serious? That sounded like something out of a Nicholas Sparks's novel. He thinks it's gonna be that easy. "And now you do?"
"I'd like to think I do," he said looking me up and down.
"Oh please," I rolled my eyes.
Stiles came barreling in. "Rocky! We need to go, it's Scott," he told me. I nodded and followed behind him, not even saying goodbye to Nathan. He knew where to find me.
X
We ran into Scott's house and up to his room. Stiles knocked on his door.
"Go away," Scott said. He sounded like he was in pain. Stiles knocked on the door.
"Scott! It's me and Rocky."
"Scott! Are you okay?" I asked.
Scott opened the door slightly and Stiles tried to push his way through. "Let us in, we can help."
"No," he said. "You got to find Allison."
"Allison is fine," I told him.
"I saw her get a ride from the party," Stiles continued. "She's fine."
"No I think I know who it is."
"Just let us in and we can talk," Stiles argued.
"It's Derek!" Scott yelled, cutting him off. "Derek Hale's the werewolf. He's the one who bit me. He's the one who killed the girl in the woods."
Oh my god. I looked at Stiles who was completely silent. This could not be happening. "Scott. Derek's the one who drove Allison from the party." It was silent for a moment and then the door slammed shut. "Scott!" Stiles kicked the door to try to open it.
"Stiles, it isn't opening!" I said pulling him away from the door. He ran his hand over his buzzed hair.
"We need to go to Allison's house."
X
"Stiles slow down before you crash!" I yelled as he sped down Allison's driveway. He slammed on the break, making my seat belt lock as I flew forward. Stiles jumped out of the jeep and ran to the door. I got out and pulled him from the doorbell he was repeatedly ringing. When no one answered, he started banging on the door. "Stiles!"
The door opened to reveal an unhappy Mrs. Argent. I pulled Stiles back before he could make it any worse.
"Hi Mrs. Argent, we're friends of Allison's and we just wanted to know if she got back home safely," I said, putting on my 'I'm a good kid' voice. "We were going to offer her a ride, but she was gone before we could."
"Allison!" she called. "It's for you!" Allison came out to see who it was and I relaxed.
X
"We've been looking all night," I said. "Maybe he's at home."
"He's out here somewhere Rocky," Stiles sighed as we drove down the road. After we talked to Allison, who was at the most pissed for being ditched, we tried to call Scott who wasn't answering. So we spent all night searching for him. "I think that's him." A shirtless boy was walking down the road.
I lowered the window. "Hey!" It was Scott. "Need a ride?" I hopped in the back and Scott took my seat up front. I handed him a shirt. We drove in silence for a few minutes. I was exhausted. It was the second night in a row that I pulled an all-nighter with Stiles.
"You know what bothers me the most?" Scott spoke up.
"I swear if you say Allison, I'm going to punch you in the head," Stiles told him. I probably would too.
"She probably hates me now," he whined.
"I doubt that," Stiles said. "But you might want to come up with an amazing apology."
"Or you could just tell her truth," I suggested. "If there's one thing girls hate more than jackasses who ditch them, it's liars."
"And revel in the awesomeness that you're a freaking werewolf," Stiles said excitedly. Scott obviously didn't like that suggestion. "Okay bad idea. Hey, we'll get through this. And if I have to, I'll chain you up myself on full moon nights and feed you live mice. I had a boa once I can do it."
"You lost that boa," I reminded him. "Don't worry Scott, you still have me and I have a good track record with animals." Scott shook his head and chuckled. "Now let's can the werewolf talk until after we all sleep."