( the tell )

Isabelle, Lydia and Jackson were all cramped into Jackson's Porsche. Isabelle had drawn the unlucky straw with Lydia and was forced into the back. Parked outside some DVD rental place, the girls were arguing with Jackson (When didn't they?) over which movie he should pick up.

"Hoosiers is not only the best basketball movie ever. It is the best sports movie ever made," bartered Jackson.

"No," came the answer from Lydia and Elle.

"It's got Gene Hackman and Dennis Hopper," Jackson unsuccessfully promoted.

"No," said Lydia.

"They're old and ugly," said Elle.

"Lydia, Ell-Bell, I swear to God you're gonna like it,"

"No," they repeated in union.

"I am not watching The Notebook again," Jackson said putting his foot down and exited his Porsche. Both girls looked at each other, knowing his resolve would break and he would cave in to the girls choice.

"Mm. Did they forget my curly fries?" Sheriff asked when he and his son were both in his squad car outside the drive-through and Stiles was passing him his choice of food. The smell of burgers and fries was overwhelming and mouth watering so the two males wanted to sort out there food as quickly as they could just to shove it into their mouths.

"You're not supposed to eat fries, especially the curly ones." Stiles reminded his father as he began to shove said curly fries into his mouth very impolitely.

"Well, I'm carrying a lethal weapon. If I want the curly fries, I will have the curly fries." the Sheriff demanded.

"If you think getting rid of contractions in all your sentences makes your argument any more legitimate, you are wrong," sassed Stiles.

When Jackson had gone inside the movie rental, Lydia turned to see Isabelle frowning at her phone screen. "Still no word?"

Isabelle shook her head. "Nothing."

"Maybe he's busy?"

Elle scoffed. "Too busy to send his little sister a text to say he's still alive?"

Lydia winced. "Okay, you have a point. But this is Dan, you know what he's like. He's probably out partying and his phone had died or something."

Elle rolled her eyes. Why were brothers so infuriating? By that point, Elle's legs were cramped being in the back of Jackson's totally impractical Porsche and she had clambered through to the drivers seat, whacking her head several times on the way.

Lydia sat up and pulled her own phone out of her bag to update a few of her pictures so she pulled Elle over by her jacket and into the frame of her phones camera. They took a few selfies (Peace sign anyone?) before a smashing was heard from outside.

Suddenly a huge beast appeared through the window of the rental store and landed just a few meters away from the car the girls were in. It had fur coming out from its body everywhere and vibrant red eyes that Elle knew she wouldn't be able to shake for a while. It's face was grotesque and appalling with razor sharp fangs and deadly claws. It roared an earthshaking howl before turning into a human and running off into the dark.

Elle and Lydia let out a scream of terror and in the moment of it all, they had managed to take a video of it accidentally that would come in great use.

"Unit one, do you copy?" a voice came in from over the radio to the two Stilinskis. Stiles reached for the radio before his hand got slapped away by his father.

"Sorry."

"Unit one, copy," Sheriff admitted into the radio.

"Got a report of a possible 187,"

"A murder?" asked a shocked Stiles swivelling his head round to face his dad, the large amount of fries that were half in his mouth fell out when he turned so quickly and he was left looking with a handful still in there ready to fall out.

"Stay here," ordered Sheriff Stilinski as he clambered out of the car and shut the door. He walked over to the deputy closest to him that was next to one of the three ambulances at the scene, "Paul, let's get this area locked up."

"Oh, no way," gasped Stiles from inside the car when he caught sight of Lydia and Elle sitting on the edge of an ambulance wrapped in blankets, terrified, with Jackson next to them trying to get them out of there so they can go home.

"Why the hell can't I just go home? I'm fine," and agitated Jackson complained to the Sheriff when he went over to him to take his statement.

"I hear you, but the EMT says you hit your head pretty hard. They just wanna make sure you don't have a concussion,"

"What part of 'I'm fine' are you having a problem grasping? Okay, I wanna go home."

"And I understand that-" Sheriff tried.

"No, you don't understand, which kind of blows my mind, since it should be a pretty basic concept to grasp for a minimum-wage rent-a-cop like you! Okay, now, I wanna go home!" Jackson shouted.

Stiles was transfixed by the sight of a shaking Elle and was absolutely heartbroken that she had to go through that and was just staring at her until a metal on metal sound of a gurney broke him out of his fix, "Oh, whoa, is that a dead body?" Stiles exclaimed as he got out of the car, the arm hanging out from the sheet that was put on top of it. Sheriff just gave his son a look and Stiles slowly backed away with his mouth wide open.

"Everybody-" Sheriff started and that was when Scott McCall tuned out of his hearing at the top of the roof as he and Derek Hale observed from the top.

Scott was crouched down at the edge of the building with Derek next to him.

"Wait, Nightly?" Derek heard from down below. "Is that Isabelle?"

Scott frowned but nodded, "Yeah?"

Derek recognised her from the other week, trying to help him when he had been shot. "I knew her brother."

He more than knew her brother, they were best friends. He helped look after young Isabelle when Daniel's parents were away but she would have been too young to remember that.

Scott looked shocked. Either that Derek Hale knew the popular girls brother or that he was actually sharing some information.

"But anyway, starting to get it?" Derek asked not looking at him.

"Uh, I get that he's killing people, but I don't get why. I mean, this isn't standard practice, right? We don't go out in the middle of the night murdering everyone, do we?" asked Scott shaking his head and looking at Derek for his answer.

"No. We're predators. We don't have to be killers," he said still not looking at Scott.

"Then why is he a killer?"

"That's what we're gonna find out." And with that, he walked away. Scott followed him a moment later and the two walked dramatically across the roof the older werewolf in front by several meters.

When they were finally allowed to go (after very thorough inspections) Jackson walked up to Isabelle. "Do you need a ride?"

Isabelle frowned. "Are you okay to drive?"

Jackson scoffed. "As if I'm letting any other sucker drive my car."

Elle smirked, nudging him with her elbow. "Sure. It's not like my parents are picking up anyway."

Jackson threw his arm over her shoulders and steered her in the direction of his car. The weight of his arm had her slumped as she climbed in the passenger seat.

"Did Natalie come to pick up Lyds?"

Jackson nodded from the drivers seat as he pulled out of the parking spot. "Yeah, while you were getting checked over. Lydia wanted to share goodbye but..."

Elle sighed as fatigue washed over her. "No, I understand. She needs to go home. We all do."

When Jackson had pulled up outside her house she tiredly opened the door before Jackson stopped her. "If they get too much you can stay at mine. You know that right?"

Elle smiled tearily as she pressed a kiss to Jackson's cheek. "Of course I do, J." Just before she shut the door she paused. "I might have to take you up on that."

Allison got to school the next morning having no idea the traumatic experience that her best friends went through hours before. She arrived at her locker feeling oddly joyful about her birthday since her aunt Kate's present to her. The mechanical lock was quickly undone and taken away so Allison could get her books out when a wash of panic came over her.

When she opened the creaking blue metal door of her locker, several brightly coloured balloons fell out of it and made their way up to the ceiling as Allison scrambled to hide them and shove them back inside her locker. A 'Happy Birthday!' card was put into a folder she has on the inside of the door from Lydia and Elle. She looked round either side of the corridor to see if anyone had spotted the balloons before reading the card. She nodded her head and sighed, "Yeah" under her breath. Of course they would know it's her birthday!

Scott walked up to her locker and asked, "Is it your birthday?"

"No, no. Uh, no. I mean, yes. Please don't tell anybody. I don't even know how Lydia and Elle found out," Allison panicked as she struggled to get the balloons back in without Scott noticing too much. It failed.

"Why wouldn't you tell me?" Scott asked confused.

"Because I don't want people to know. Because-I'm 17," she confessed, waiting the horrible questions she had always got on her birthday about why she was one grade below everyone else her age.

"You're 17?"

"That's the reaction I'm trying to avoid." she said, slightly nastily.

"Why? I mean, I-I totally get it. Uh, you had to repeat a year because of all the moving around, right?" his girlfriend looked at him completely shocked at the guess for once and leaned forward and kissed him, "What was that for?"

"For-literally being the first person to ever make the correct assumption. Everybody's always like, 'What-Did you get held back?' 'Did you ride the short bus?' Uh, 'Did you have a baby?'"

"That's what you hear on your birthday?" asked Scott, shocked but completely understood why Allison hid her age.

"Oh, yeah. All day long," she nodded.

"Then-What if we got out of here?"

"Skip class?"

"Yeah, the whole day,"

"Well, you're asking someone who's never skipped one class to bail out the entire day, and I don't-"

"No, see, that's perfect. If you get caught, then they'll go easy on you."

"Well, what if you get caught?"

"Let's try not to think about that," so he dragged her away.

"Hey Mr. Stilinski, try putting the highlighter down in between paragraphs. It's chemistry not a colouring book," said Mr. Harris, the devil teacher, as he stopped at the front of the class, his back to Stiles.

Stiles just glowered at him before spitting out the pen lid so high it hit the ceiling then caught it in his hand as it fell back down and reattached it to the top of his yellow highlighter.

He leaned forward in his seat to ask a few questions to Danny with his eyes keep flickering back to Jackson who arrived late. "Hey, Danny. Can I ask you a question?"

He just sighed and answered, "No."

"Well, I'm going to anyway. Um, did Lydia or Elle show up in your homeroom today?"

"No."

"Can I ask you another question?" Stiles asked, leaning forward on his seat a bit more.

"Answer's still no."

"Does anyone know what happened to her and Jackson last night?"

"He wouldn't tell me."

"But he's your best friend. One more question."

"What?"

"Do you find me attractive?" at the question, Stiles was so far off of his seat, it was a repeat of English at the start of the year. Stiles fell off his seat as it clattered to the ground tipping side ways. In a way, he was glad Elle wasn't in to see that happen to him twice. God, that would've been embarrassing.