Change (Jackson)
Everything was different now.
Jackson flashed himself a dazzling smile in the mirror.
Everything was different and everything was awesome.
He felt like the lyrics to that Kanye song:harder, better, faster, stronger.
He knew McCall was just being a bitch about this werewolf thing.
He did admit that it wasn't easy, but Scott had made it out to be the worst thing to happen to him.
Jackson couldn't disagree more.
Sure, he didn't know how to control it yet, and he shifted in awkward places still, but that would be fixed.
He'd already made a plan to threaten Scott after school to tell him his secrets. He had talked to Derek, but that guy was stupid. He had said something about finding an 'anchor' or whatever and then preceded to ramble on about how he was gonna need his help during the next full moon because he would be 'too weak' to overcome it.
Psh. Bullshit.
Fuck Derek and his pussy pack.
As far as Jackson was concerned, he had all the power now. He bowed to no one.
He looked in the mirror again, this time flexing his biceps a bit.
He'd surpassed his previous bench press record the other day and it showed in his arms.
Jackson smirked to himself. If Lydia loved his arms before (which she definitely did) then she would be dying to have them around her now.
Then Jackson remembered: He'd broken up with her.
He suddenly felt hot.
Pictures of Lydia in his arms, of nights they spent together, raced through his mind, searing his blood. He was panting and he could feel his teeth sharpening.
Shit.
It had never happened this early in the morning before.
He tried to breathe at a normal pace, but his lungs wouldn't listen.
He looked down at his fingers as they morphed into claws.
In a last ditch effort he tried to find an anchor like Hale had suggested.
What had he said his was...anger?
Jackson thought of McCall showing him up at lacrosse, of that brat Stilinski talking behind his back.
It wasn't working. He could feel the sideburns itching out of his skin.
Lastly he thought of his parents.
Their lies.
He wasn't theirs like they'd said.
He wasn't some miracle child they thought they would never have, he was an orphan of some dead people who were probably too drunk to see which side of the road they were on. He remembered the day his parents had told him. They hadn't even wanted to, but Jackson had found the form in their dresser when looking for money to buy something from the ice-cream truck .
He had been holding the paper in his hand.
He hadn't even read it yet.
His mom walked in on him going through her sock drawer when she gasped.
He thought he was in deep shit for trying to steal money, but all she said was, "Oh Jackson, I'm so sorry."
That's when he looked at the paper: a news article titled,
"Pregnant couple dies in car crash, but brings new life to infertile family!"
As he crumpled the paper in his memory, he punched his wall in real time, going straight through the drywall.
All he could feel now was heat. He wanted to rip things. He wanted to quiet the thousands of sounds screaming in his head.
And suddenly all he could smell was his parents and he wanted to rip them instead.
In his last conscious thoughts he remembered something Derek mentioned about pain being able to turn you back so he turned to his mirror again and smashed his face into it, glass showering him.
Jackson wasn't sure how long he was gone, but when he came to, he found himself huddled in the corner of his shower, his wounds healing, and his mother knocking on the bathroom door.
"Jackson, sweetie? Are you alright?"
His father was there too, "What did you do to your mirror, son?"
Jackson scrambled for an excuse as his mother began to open the door.
"DON'T COME IN!"
Jackson leaped with speed he still wasn't used to and slammed the door, catching his mother's hand.
He could hear her heartbeat increase: she was scared.
"Jackson," his father was upset now, " we don't slam doors in this house. Get out here and apologies to your mother. Now."
Jackson was annoyed.
His mother's feelings were the least of his worries right now.
But he apologized and it sounded surprisingly sincere he thought.
"I'm sorry, mom, I'm sorry"
He threw in the 'mom' as a bonus. He rarely called her that anymore, but he knew it made her happy so he hoped this would swing her to his side when he asked this next favor.
"Can I uh, stay home from school? I'm not feeling good."
He didn't even have to try to sound shakey or out of breath because he was so disheveled from his wolf-out.
He wasn't scared though, just kind of...disoriented.
"You stayed home Monday." His father was always a hard-ass, freakin lawyers.
"Oh come on David. He's clearly not feeling well."
He knew the 'mom' card would work.
"Fine. Take out the trash though while we're gone. And do the dishes. And-"
"David!" He heard his mother hit his father's arm.
"Okay. We'll be back around 5, but we have to leave right after that to go to the Macey's for dinner. Behave."
His parents left, his mom offering a "feel better" over her shoulder before shutting the door.
Jackson held onto the sink and hesitantly looked in the mirror.
He relaxed his shoulders, relieved that he looked like him again: green eyes, no fangs.
He sat on the edge of the tub and ran a hand through his now sweaty hair.
Threatening Scott was gonna have to wait, he concluded and stripped down to take a cold shower.
