( lunatic )
It had been around a week since the group of six had been stuck at the school. None had really contacted each other much. Allison needed time after breaking things off with Scott. Lydia and Isabelle spoke but briefly. Isabelle had tried to contact Jackson as well but he wasn't exactly welcoming. Scott and Stiles were still in contact with each other. In fact, Stiles had dragged Scott out with him.
"Where are we going?"
"You'll see,"
"'Cause we really shouldn't be out here. My mom is in a constant state of freak-out from what happened at the school."
"Well, your mom isn't the sheriff, okay? There's no comparison, trust me," sighed an excited teenage boy with the name, Stiles Stilinski.
"Can you at least just tell me what we're doing out here?" his best friend asked as they climbed to the top of a hill.
"Yes. When your best friend gets dumped-"
"I didn't get dumped. We're taking a break," the best friend corrected.
"All right, well, when your best friend gets told by his girlfriend that they're taking a break-You get your best friend drunk," the Stilinski boy informed his companion, lifting up a full bottle of Jack.
"Dude, you know, she's just one-one girl. You know, there are so many-there are so many other girls in the sea," Stiles said, placing the now half-full bottle of Jack Daniels down next to him. He was laying down on the rocks while his friend, Scott McCall was sat on top of a boulder next to him.
"Fish in the sea," his werewolf friend corrected, with an annoyed expression on his lips at the human's drunken mistake.
"Fish? Why you talking about fish? I'm talking about girls. I love girls. I love 'em. I love especially ones with blonde hair, blue eyes, 5'5-"
"Like Isabelle?"
"Yeah, exactly. Hey, how did you know I was talking about-about-What was I talking about?" he asked with a goofy grin on his face, "Hey, you're not happy. Take a drink."
"I don't want any more."
"You're not drunk?"
"I'm not anything," the werewolf sighed.
"Hey, maybe it's like-maybe it's like not needing your inhaler anymore, you know. Maybe you can't get drunk as a wolf. Am I drunk?" he suddenly asked.
"You're wasted," his friend sighed, not at all happy.
"Yeah! Come on, dude, I know it feels bad. I know it hurts. I know. Well, I don't know. But I know this. I know that as much as being broken up hurts, being alone is way worse," Stiles sighed for a second. "That didn't make any sense. I need a drink," the Stilinski boy said reaching for another bottle but it getting snatched out of his hand by a guy they had never met before.
"Well, look at the two little bitches getting their drink on," one of them said.
"Give it back," demanded the werewolf.
"What's that, little man?" the same guy spoke.
"I think he wants a drink," the other said to his friend.
"I want the bottle," growled the beta.
"Scott, maybe we should just go," the Stilinski said to his friend.
"You brought me here to get me drunk, Stiles. I'm not drunk yet." Scott said as he watched in anger the first guy drinking some of their alcohol, "Give me the bottle. Give me the bottle of Jack," the non-human said forcefully and his eyes changed from the normal dark brown swirls to a brilliant glowing yellow showing his innocence in life and claws appearing.
"Scott?" Stiles called. The guys handed it over, terrified, and Scott swung it away so it hit a tree and smashed.
"Okay, please tell me that was because of the breakup. Or 'cause tomorrow's the full moon. Going home now, yeah?" Stiles asked as they made it back to the jeep.
Elle woke up with a start and gasped, a headache forming quickly. She sighed, sitting up a grabbing the glass of water next to her bed. She always had one next to her for the past week since the incident at the school. Gulping it all down, she leant back on her bed, catching her breath. The Nightly girl picked up her phone form the side where it was on charge and pulled out the cord. It was full of different notifications and reminders that happened while she was restlessly sleeping.
Swallowing the last of her water, she unlocked the phone ready to sort out her notifications, most were from Lydia, a few from random guys Lydia had fooled into believing they had a chance with Elle.
She groaned and just refreshed all her apps, deciding to sort it out when she's bored in class which happens to be very likely from her timetable. It's not like she needs to listen anyway, she knew it all already. She read through all the messages she was sent, asking if she was going into school that day because the school was reopening for the first time since the incident. She just ignored them all apart from the one from Lydia asking her if she could get a ride to school. She responded with a simple 'that's fine' before locking the phone. Elle ran a tired hand down her face as she groaned out loud and dragged herself out of bed. She threw her duvet up to lay it properly, it falling into position nicely.
Her mother, Marie Nightly, made her way into her daughter's room with a cup of coffee ready, knowing that it will be an exceedingly stressful and traumatic day for her. She pushed open the door to find her daughter moving around her room collecting stuff to go into her bag ready for school. She opened her mouth to speak but was cut off by Isabelle.
"Mum-don't worry. I'll be fine. I'm gonna be with Lydia all day and nothing will happen that's out of the ordinary." Elle told her. She just nodded mutely and placed the steaming beverage on her desk shifting the door behind her when she left.
Elle just sighed again and got changed into her comfy clothes: skinny jeans, grey knitted jumper, black boots, and a beanie to cover her bed-head that she was too tired to sort out. She slung her bag on her shoulder and grabbed her coffee before exiting her room. She sipped at her coffee in between washing her face and applying her make up. Once she had finished the drink, she brushed her teeth and rushed downstairs.
When she made it she grabbed her keys and ran out the door. She let out a breath of relief when she unlocked the car and walked towards it taking her bag off of her shoulder and chucking it in the back before getting in the drivers seat ready to go to Lydia's place.
Stiles Stilinski was just leaving his house at the same time as Isabelle. The crunching of gravel caught his attention and turned to see Elle walking briskly towards her car, head ducked and hair whipping around her face from under her beanie. He looked on at her a pitiful expression on his face at how she's had to cope with the past few events not knowing the truth. He didn't know how he would be able to handle it if he wasn't in on the supernatural world living with the normal one. And as much as it may hurt her, he wished she never knew. He knows that if she does find out, she will be in so much more danger than she has been so far. He doesn't think he could survive is she was hurt, or worse, dead.
He watched her, still standing infront of his locked front door, as she scrambled about driving off to-where he assumed was-Lydia's house judging from the amount of time she had left before school.
He sighed to himself ducking his head, trudging to his bust-up Jeep. He caught his reflection in the wing mirror and thought hard on how difficult the night was going to be with the full moon and Scott judging on the night before's fiasco. He was still nursing a killer hangover from the rock but remembers Scott wolfing out clearly. This is going to be fun, he thought sarcastically as he made his way to school.
"It's just weird. Everybody's talking about what happened the other night, and nobody knows it was us," Allison confided in the two teens as they were walking down a hallway at school.
"Thank you, for the protection of minors," Elle breathed.
"Lydia, Elle, do you think I made the wrong decision?" questioned Alli.
"About that jacket with that dress? Absolutely," Lydia said.
"You know what I mean," Allison rolled her eyes.
"Hello? Scott locked us in a classroom and left us for dead-" Lydia started.
"-He's lucky we're not pressing charges or making him pay our therapy bills," Elle finished.
All three girls, and the rest of the class were sat waiting in a silent classroom with Mr. Harris in front of them. They had a paper on the desks ready to do when everyone had shown up. Scott walked in and immediately caught sight of Allison. She looked up and caught his eye before looking back at her paper.
"Mr. McCall, please take a seat," instructed Mr. Harris when he finally walked into the room. He gave a longing look to his ex-girlfriend but did what he was told and took a seat in front of Stiles.
"You have 45 minutes to complete the test. 25% of your grade can be earned right now simply by writing your name on the cover of the blue book. However, as happens every year, one of you will inexplicably fail to put your name on the cover, and I'll be left yet again questioning my decision to ever become a teacher. So let's get the disappointment over with. Begin," Mr. Harris informed them.
Everyone scribbled their names down onto the paper before turning it over. Thoughts whizzed around the students minds as they ticked the boxes they thought were right. All of them except Scott. His hearing was tuned into every distraction happening to prevent him from concentrating on the test. Rubbing of pencils, pen clicking, coughs, and the words changing, like he was hallucinating, questioning on why Allison would go out with a guy like him or which of his friends he would kill on the full moon. It was all getting too overwhelming.
So he ran.
"Mr. McCall?" Mr. Harris shouted after him when he fled the classroom. Stiles jumped up after him and left as well, "Mr. Stilinski!"
Elle, as well as the rest of the class, looked up in curiosity before settling back down to get absorbed by the test. Her, Lydia and Allison shared a look with Elle and Lydia shaking their heads at the Argent girl who had a will to also go after McCall.
"All right, geniuses, listen up. Due to the recent pink eye epidemic-Thank you, Greenberg-the following people have made first line on a probationary basis, emphasis on the word 'probationary'." Coach Finstock explained as he and the whole lacrosse team were huddled in the changing room, either sat on a bench or leaning on the lockers.
"Rodriguez. Welcome to first line. Taylor, and, uh-Oh, for the love of crap. I can't even read my own writing. What is that, an 's'?" Stiles peeked up, the excitement of possibly being first line was running through his veins, "No, no, that's not an 's'. That's a-that's a-that's a 'b'. It's definitely a 'b'," his excitement faded out and he sunk from his place on the bench into himself, hunching over in annoyance. "Uh, Rodriguez, Taylor, and, uh-Bilinski."
Stiles looked up shocked. His eyes scanned the changing room for any sign of a joke and when he was satisfied he jumped up in ecstasy and swung his arms about, yelling.
"Bilinski!" Coach shouted.
"Yes?"
"Shut up!"
"Yes, sir." And he sat back down.
"Stiles," whispered Scott.
"It's Biles. Call me Biles, or I swear to God I'll kill you," Stiles replied utterly serious.
"Another thing. From here on out, immediately, we're switching to co - captains. Congratulations, McCall!" Coach announced.
"What?" Jackson asked, shocked.
"What do you mean, what? Jackson, this takes nothing away from you. This is about combining separate strengths into one unit. This is about taking your unit, McCall's unit, we're making one big unit. McCall, it's you and Jackson now. Everybody else-asses on the field! Asses on the field!" He informed them.