2- Unreasonable Explanations
The rest of the week went by in a blur for Claire. The only things she could remember were random things from her classes and Scott's continuous talk about his date to the party on Friday. Nothing really interesting happened to her until Friday itself, when Lydia Martin decided to have a conversation with Claire in the morning.
Claire was at her locker, putting away the books that she didn't need in the morning. When she shut the door, she jumped, startled to see the queen bee standing there in front of her.
"Cute necklace," Lydia commented, twirling her own in her fingers.
"Uh, thanks," Claire responded, not knowing why she was talking to her, let alone complimenting her fashion choices.
"So," she started, linking arms with Claire, which only confused her more. Why was she suddenly acting like her best friend? They had never talked in the ten years they had known each other before this. Like, ever. In fact, she was pretty positive that Lydia didn't even know that she existed. "You're friends with Scott and the other one, right?"
Was that what the conversation was for? To talk about Scott because he's going to a party with Allison? Is she just there to interrogate Claire to make sure he would make a good boyfriend?
"Yeah," she nodded. "Best friends."
"And you're not dating either of them, are you?" she asked, which made her even more confused. Why did Lydia Martin care about her dating life? "I mean, I know you're not dating Scott, since he's going to the party with Allison, but are you dating the other one?"
"Who, Stiles?" Claire made a face. "Uh, no, we're not dating. We're just friends. I don't have a boyfriend."
Lydia smiled widely at her, like that was the right thing to say. "Are you going to the party?"
Okay, this conversation was starting to feel more like an interrogation to Claire, and not for the things she would've expected. Like a conversation with Lydia was something to be expected, she thought to herself.
"Oh, uh, I didn't think that I had an invite," she told her with a shrug.
"Well, now you do," Lydia told her. "So you'll be there, right?" The way she said it made Claire feel like not going wasn't an option.
"Yeah, I guess," she nodded.
Lydia smiled wider. "That's great." The warning bell rang, signalling for students to get to class. "I'll see you around Claire," she said as she walked away.
Claire just stood there, watching as she walked to class, a bit stunned. Lydia knew her name, too?
What just happened?
Stiles came up to Claire after school that day, looking very concerned.
"What's wrong?" she asked him. She raised an eyebrow. "Did Lydia get a new boyfriend?"
"What? No," he responded, shaking his head. "I was listening to one of my dad's calls-"
Claire cut him off with a groan. "Please don't tell me we're gonna go out to do something stupid that will get us in trouble again. The first time was enough."
Stiles sighed heavily. "No, just let me finish. Jeez. Anyways, the fiber analysis came back from the lab in L.A. The body they found? It had hairs on it." He paused for dramatic emphasis. "Wolf hairs."
"Wolf hairs?" she questioned, eyebrows raised.
He nodded. "Wolf hairs."
"How is that possible?" she asked, shaking her head. "There are no wolves in California."
"I know," Stiles nodded enthusiastically, like she had said the right thing. "I was thinking about that too. And then I thought, what if those werewolf jokes from the other day weren't actually jokes?"
Claire raised an eyebrow at him. "What? You think that Scott, our best friend, is a werewolf?"
"I know it sounds kinda crazy, but I did a bunch of research on it and it doesn't seem too far fetched. At least, with the research it doesn't. Just come to my house after school and I'll explain everything, okay?"
"Sure," she shrugged. "I've got nothing better to do with my life than to listen to you ramble about nothing."
"Okay, I don't know if you insulted me or yourself just then," Stiles told her with a frown.
Claire shrugged again. "I think it was a bit of both." The two started walking to the lacrosse field for first elimination when she suddenly remembered something, snapping her fingers. "Hey, I need a favor from you. Well, actually, I'd kinda be the one doing you a favor, but I still need you."
"For what?"
"Okay, so the weirdest thing happened to me this morning," she started to explain. "Lydia started to talk for me, I don't know why, and then she invited me to her party tonight. I need you to come with me so I don't look like a total loner, since Scott will probably be too focused on Allison to talk to me."
"Hold on," Stiles stopped, stunned. "Lydia talked to you? As in Lydia Martin? As in the Lydia Martin that I've been in love with since third grade? That Lydia?"
Claire nodded. "Yup, that Lydia."
"And she invited you to her party tonight?"
"Uh-huh."
"And you want me to come with you?" Stiles still looked completely stunned.
"Yeah. And while you're there, you could work your Stilinski magic or whatever you call it to make her suddenly fall in love with you," Claire told him, clapping a hand on his shoulder. "So, you in?"
"Hell yeah I am!"
After school, Claire was sitting on Stiles's bed, waiting for Scott to show up. She watched Stiles twitched around at his desk, shuffling through papers that meant absolutely nothing to her. He looked like either he had a few energy drinks or he had too much Adderall. Knowing Stiles, it was probably the latter.
"Are you going to explain your research to me yet?" Claire asked, her tone not totally lacking bitterness. She couldn't help it. She was bored out of her mind, and Stiles was being a pretty shitty host.
"I told you, not until Scott gets here. I don't want to explain myself twice."
"You see, that's just laziness on your part."
"You could read these papers yourself, you know," Stiles told her, an eyebrow raised.
"That's laziness on my part," Claire told him, a stupid smile on her face.
He frowned. "Was that your attempt at a joke? Because it kinda sucked. Like, a lot."
She rolled her eyes. "Said the guy who's humor is ninety percent old movie references, and fifty percent of those references are Star Wars related."
"You can't blame me for enjoying good movies," he shook his head at her. "Now shut up and be bored until Scott gets here."
Claire groaned loudly, throwing herself into a laying position on Stiles's bed. Luckily, she didn't have to wait to the sound of shuffling papers for too long, because soon enough Scott walked through the bedroom door.
"Get in," Stiles told him, even though he already was. Jeez, Scott had been there for about five seconds and Stiles already sounded like he was hyped on Adderall. "You guys' gotta see this. I've been up all night reading- websites books. All this information." Wow, he was sounding pretty crazy, and he hadn't even got to the "werewolf" part yet.
"How much Adderall have you had today?" Scott asked, a bit of a playful smirk tugging at his lips.
"My thoughts exactly," Claire nodded, agreeing.
"A lot," Stiles frowned. "But that doesn't matter," he said with large hand gestures. "Okay, just listen."
"Oh, is this about the body?" Scott questioned. "Did they find out who did it?"
"No, not yet. They're still questioning people. Even Derek."
"Derek?" Claire asked, confused. Why would they question him? He just got back after being away for years. Why would he come back to town just to kill someone?
"Oh, that guy from the woods the other day," Scott nodded, remembering.
"Yeah!" he agreed, a bit too enthusiastically. "Yes. But that's not it, okay?"
"Then what?"
"Remember the joke from the other day?" Stiles asked. Scott nodded. "Not a joke anymore, dude. The wolf, the bite in the woods. I started doing all this reading." He shuffled through his large stack of papers. "Do you even know why a wolf howls?"
"Should I?" Scott shrugged.
"It's a signal, okay?" Stiles started explaining. "When a wolf is alone, it howls to signal its location to the rest of the pack. So if you heard a wolf howling, that means others could have been nearby. Maybe even a whole pack of them."
"A whole pack of wolves?" he asked, eyes widening a bit.
"No, werewolves."
And here we go, Claire thought bitterly. This is not going to end well. She knew better than to open her mouth and possibly make it worse, so she just decided to let Stiles fight this loosing battle.
"Wha- Are you seriously wasting my time with this?" Scott questioned, infuriated. "You know I'm picking Allison up in an hour," he said, starting to get up to leave.
"I saw you on the field today, Scott." Yeah, so did Claire. He did a freaking flip over some players to make a shot. She knew for a fact that he did not have that kind of agility, or aim. In fact, in the nearly twelve years that she had known him, he could just barely do a somersault, let alone a flip. "What you did wasn't just amazing, all right? It was impossible."
"Yeah, so I made a good shot," he shrugged, like flipping over players was an average thing for him. Wow, he really was ignorant.
"No," Stiles shook his head, "you made an incredible shot, I mean- The way you moved, your speed, your reflexes. People can't just suddenly do that overnight, you know. And there's the vision and the senses, and don't even think I don't notice that you don't need your inhaler anymore." Claire noticed all of those things, too. How could she not? One day, Scott's the asthmatic, nonathletic goofball she'd known since she was four, and suddenly he's super fast, agile, and amazing at lacrosse. That sort of stuff doesn't happen without lots of practicing.
He turned to Claire. "Do you believe any of this?"
She shrugged. "I mean, it's better than assuming that your on some sort of drugs." Scott slightly glared at her. "Which you really shouldn't be, by the way. Steroids shrivel up your man parts."
"Okay, I really can't think about this right now," Scott said, looking very annoyed. Perhaps Claire's comment wasn't the most appropriate thing to say at the moment. "We can talk tomorrow."
"What?" Stiles exclaimed, looking way too worried. "No! The full moon's tonight! Don't you get it?"
"What are you trying to do?" Scott exploded, looking pissed. Claire was pretty sure it was the first time she had seen him that mad in her whole life. "I just made first line. I got a date with a girl who I can't believe wants to go out with me, and everything in my life is somehow perfect. Why are you trying to ruin it?"
"I'm trying to help," he told him. "You're cursed, Scott. And it's not just the moon will cause you to physically change. It also happens to be when your bloodlust will be at its peak."
"Bloodlust?" he asked, eyebrows furrowed.
"Yeah," Stiles nodded, "your urge to kill."
"I'm already feeling an urge to kill, Stiles," Scott told him, a slight glare on his face.
"Whoa whoa whoa," Claire interjected, her hands raised as she walked in between the two boys. "Let's, uh, let's just take a step back, okay?" She turned to Scott. "Because you're getting this look-" she gestured vaguely to her face- "that is kinda scary."
Stiles just barreled on, ignoring her. "It says here that the change can be caused by anything that angers you or raises your pulse. All right? I haven't seen anyone raise your pulse like Allison does." Okay, that was a lie, There was one other person. But considering she was there in the room with them, he opted to not say that to make things less awkward and so that Scott wouldn't be as mad. "You gotta cancel this date." Without another word, he got up and walked to Scott's backpack, going zipping open a pocket.
"What are you doing?" Scott asked, his voice not completely lacking anger, but lacking more than there was a few moments ago.
"I'm cancelling your date," Stiles responded simply.
Okay, this will definitely not go well, Claire thought. She could already see Stiles's tombstone.
"What!" Scott yelled out in pure anger, making Claire's prediction one step closer towards coming true. "No! Give it to me!"
Suddenly, blinded with rage, Scott grabbed Stiles and held him up against the wall, his fist closed as if he was going to punch him. Claire watched, feeling sick to her stomach. She had absolutely no idea what to do. She wanted to stop him, to say something that could prevent Stiles from getting the crap beaten out of him, but she didn't know what to say. And she also didn't really want to die as a sixteen year old virgin.
As if he could hear the mental pleas Claire was sending his way, Scott dropped Stiles on the ground. Obviously his anger had not left him, because once his hands were free, he turned and threw the desk chair. He stood there, huffing, before he either calmed down or saw what he had done. Scott looked up and Stiles and Claire, both looking at him with fairly scared expressions. "I'm sorry," he breathed out before heading to the door. "I-I gotta go get ready for the party." He stopped at the door, turning towards his friends once again. "I'm sorry," he repeated before leaving the door and the house.
Stiles sighed, going over to pick up his chair. When it was standing upright again, he froze, his face filled with worry.
Claire watched him out of curiosity and concern. "Stiles?" she called.
Wordlessly, he turned the chair around so that she could see it. She gaped, eyes wide and mouth open, at the sight in front of her.
In the chair were three animal-like scratches that definitely were not there a moment ago.
Scott McCall was a werewolf. A freaking werewolf.
Claire sighed, looking up at Stiles. "Well, I think it's time to get ready for that party."