Authors Note: HEYO! XD Please tell me what you think; I would love to know XD I own nothing and no one, apart from the following: Sam Campbell, Zane and Chase.
JUST SO YOU KNOW: like everyone else, I have no idea what Stiles' real name is, so I'm going along with what everyone else puts :) and I've made his middle name up XD
Please, please review XD
P.S. I've been really busy with college, so I won't update as regularly as I used to. It's going to be work-work-work, so bear with me, please :)
You guys are all so amazing and I love you all! In a non-creepy non-psycho kind of way XD
Remember – you are all beautiful in your each individual ways ^_^
Chapter 38
Stiles
Standing under the spray of the shower, I felt all my muscles start to relax. The water was hot – not enough to burn me, but enough for it to start to make my skin tingle slightly... I always loved that feeling.
The water pressure in the house was amazing! I mean, it was better than Deaton's! And, you know, it didn't hurt having my own bathroom.
As I ran a hand through my wet hair, I rolled my head back slightly, getting lost in the sensation of the water hitting my skin. Back in Dallas, I rarely got the chance to shower, and when I did it was cold, for five minutes and the water pressure was shit. I would have taken a motel shower over what I had in Dallas.
The sound of the water against the tiles was a soothing sound, the rhythm and repetitiveness helping to calm my mind and nerves in a way that had never happened before. It was...an indescribable feeling.
As I started to rub the water into my arms, another hand joined mine, another body inches away from mine from behind. It amazed me that I didn't turn and attack.
Or have a panic attack.
Or do...anything.
I just stood there – as if I knew they were already there, which I suppose I did, in a way.
It was obvious that the hands belonged to Derek – was that sad, how I could identify him by his hands? I don't know how I could tell; I just could with the Alpha Wolf. I slight scars on the back of them, the unique wrinkles that everyone seemed to have on the knuckles, the smooth skin...
I watched as those hands worked their ways from my upper arms, down my forearms and wrists, sliding down over my hips, easily able to pull my back what with the slippery tiles under our feet. Chest to back with Derek, I felt his breath over the back of my shoulder as he started to lean his head forward towards the area where my shoulder connected with my neck.
I didn't register leaning my head to the right as Derek continued to move his head towards that space, all I know is that I did. I also know that it seemed to be the right thing to do, if the pressure on my hips meant anything. As Derek placed his lips on my neck, I only just noticed my arms moving up and around his neck as I leaned back into the hot, wet body behind me.
As the sharp slide of fangs passed over the thin skin of the side of neck, I could tell that a bruise – or some sort of mark – was going to be there later on, somewhere I wouldn't be able to hide it. But why would I want to? My hands clenched slightly, tightening in the hair at the base of his neck, seeming to drag him further towards me.
While Derek continued to drag his fangs and brush his lips – and tongue – up and down my neck, his right hand started to slowly slide further down. I didn't jump. I didn't try to get away. I didn't try to fight it... Instead, I moved into the touch, whilst still trying to keep as close to Derek as possible.
As his hand started to slide to the left slightly, I felt the pinch of his fangs digging into the skin of my neck, my head craning even further back, the breath from my lungs leaving all at once. Before I could even start breathing again, his hand curled around my...
That was when I woke up.
My eyes snapped open, chest heaving, panting. I was covered in sweat – my hair sticking to my forehead, shirt practically see-through... Looking around, I found myself alone in my room, lying in the middle of my bed with the covers kicked almost off of the side. It was only then that it really hit me:
I dreamt about – almost – having sex with Derek...
Now, yes, I had told myself numerous times that my emotions were obviously trying to confuse me again, just like they did with Zane...but I never thought my mind would betray me like that too.
Sighing, I shook my head slightly and pushed myself up. Of course, it was as I started to move that I came across something that was very...unwanted.
What even was my life?!
I think I spent about three minutes contemplating whether or not to just hide out in my room all day, or if I should just take care of it...
I hadn't actually had a hard on since I was, about, fourteen – right before I told my dad I was gay. Since then...well, I haven't had much incentive to get them, you know? So, yeah, any hopes of making this go away flew out of the window when I realised it had been, about, five years since I actually jacked off, so not even a cold shower would help...
Nodding to myself, I slid to the edge of my bed, swinging my legs over the side as I peeled off my t-shirt. As I threw it to the edge of my bed, I stood up, walking towards the door of the en suite bathroom, kicking off my sweatpants as I went.
Closing and locking the door behind me, I noted how cool the air inside the bathroom was. It felt nice on my overheated skin, cooling me down a little faster... But it barely made a difference on the situation I had going on further south.
With that in mind, I turned the shower on as I brushed my teeth – just because I needed to take care of my problem didn't mean I skipped past personal hygiene! Besides, the water need time to get to the right temperature.
By the time I actually stepped into the shower, I couldn't help but think how I started to feel exactly how I did at the beginning of my dream – only I had a boner this time and there was no way that anyone could get in.
That thought only made it worse.
Ten minutes later, I was still in the shower – the water never seemed to go cold in this house. I was still trying to actually get past the awkward stage of reaching for my dick, which most guys had gotten over in their early teens.
This was just not my day.
I knew it was stupid; I should just be able to finish myself off, go get dressed and carry on with my day. But no. Life wasn't that kind to me.
It had to be, about, twenty five minutes after I had actually stepped under the spray of the water that I manned up and dealt with the problem between my legs. Leaning back against the glass behind me and leaning my head back, I closed my eyes as I curled my hand around my cock, images of my dream and how my dream could have continued running through my head.
I barely registered that my hand started to slowly move up and down as my mind got carried – nothing new there.
It seemed that the more I thought about the dream, about Derek, the worse it got. I had a feeling it was going to be a while before I could leave my room.
By the time I left my room, it was already half eleven in the morning, way later than I was usually up and downstairs. But, hey, got down there in the end.
As soon as I got downstairs, I bypassed the living room where everyone was sitting and headed straight for the kitchen instead. Hopping up onto the counter, I grabbed my mug and filled it with coffee from the half full pot on the side, adding cream and sugar to it as needed.
After that first gulp of sweet liquid, I could feel my nerves starting to calm down, my mind starting to settle properly and not run at a hundred miles and second. It felt good.
Of course, while appreciating the creation that was coffee, I didn't notice anyone walk in. Not until they spoke, anyway.
"Holy shit." Erica's voce came from the doorway of the kitchen. "Ally, Lyds! Come here."
Looking at her, all I saw was Erica staring at me with wide eyes and a small smile. Before I could actually ask her what she was looking at, Allison and Lydia appeared on either side or her, both with matching approving looks on their faces.
"If you were straight and I wasn't with Scott, I would jump your bones right now." Allison told me.
And, yes, there was some chocking and, possibly, a spit take as she said that... But, come on! It was Allison! Who would have expected it?!
"What the fuck?!" I spluttered, coughing manically as the rest of the Pack gathered behind them.
The rest of the Pack had the exact same expression – surprise.
"What?" I asked, wanting to go back upstairs to get away from the stares. "Why are you staring?"
"You look insanely hot." Lydia explained, smugly. "See, you should listen to me when I say these things look good on you."
I should have guessed. I mean, the girls had the exact same expressions as they did the day they all took my shopping – when they first found out about my comic book collection.
I was wearing black skinny – as in fucking skin tight – black jeans, a light grey Henley with purple sleeves, a red beanie, combat boots, a black leather jacket and my glasses. Yes, I didn't really need them on, but they sometimes helped when I had headaches – and I did have one that morning – so I put them on.
So, I wasn't wearing anything special...but, apparently, it looked good.
Of course, it had to be as that thought came to mind that my eye line came across Derek. Understandably, I became embarrassed and, luckily, they all thought it was due to their reactions to my clothes.
There was no way I was going to tell them otherwise.
Throughout the day, I couldn't look at Derek without getting embarrassed – and slightly aroused. God, I felt like I was thirteen again.
But then it made the Pack wonder what was going on with me, none of them knowing what was going on to make me feel this way.
I just needed to get out of the house...
So, at three in the afternoon, I went to see Deaton. I had been meaning to visit him anyway; this just gave me the motivation to go.
That's why I appeared at Deaton's house – he was taking a much need break – that Sunday afternoon. Deaton was surprised to see me, yes, but he didn't turn me away – he never would. He just invited me into his house, took me into the living room, grabbed us some drinks and sat and talked with me.
It was amazing how I never used to be close to him after my mom died until I started living with the Pack. I didn't know what it was about the ten of them, but they just...helped. A lot.
I didn't mention anything about why I had to leave the house and Deaton didn't ask, though I could tell he knew something was up. But he knew not to push me to answer something I didn't want to talk about.
He was an awesome guy that put up with a lot of my shit when I first moved to Beacon Hills.
"Stiles," he sighed after a while of me being there. "Whatever's the matter; just remember that you can talk to someone about it. You don't have it hide it. It's not wrong, either."
I knew Deaton was smart.
I knew Deaton knew a lot of things that sometimes you didn't want him to know...
I just never knew he could tell what was bugging me already...
But that was Deaton for you.
After that, I remembered nothing until I opened my eyes Monday – April 7th – morning.
Now, I had a couple of days off now – so did Isaac and Scott – because our teachers were unavailable and no one could cover our classes, which seemed real helpful right now. I could smell the alcohol on me it was that strong.
It took me a moment to realise that I wasn't in my bed. In fact, I wasn't in any bed at all. Actually I seemed to be on a person and, considering my luck, I knew exactly who that person was...
And wasn't that just embarrassing.
I noticed that I was actually sitting on someone, the arm of the armchair visible to me from how my head was angled. I saw the edge of the blanket that is usually on the back of the couch hanging off of the edge of part of the armchair. I felt someone's arms around me, their hands resting on my back and side. I felt the slow steady breath of someone sleeping...
Slowly, I moved my head, careful not to wake them up and not to move my head too fast, just in case I threw up... And, just as I predicted, there was Derek. Sleeping in his armchair, whilst keeping hold of me.
Fuck.
The last time I was on him like this, I had been in my fox form and was told the next day what had happened... Considering I reeked of alcohol, I dreaded to think what happened this time.
I mean, I gathered that the reason I got so shitfaced was to forget about the whole Derek-dream-thing...but I seemed to have gone a bit overboard. And it must have been after I saw Deaton; because there was no way in hell he would let me drink underage.
Sometimes I wondered why I did this – get so drunk that I forgot what had happened. Although, this was only the first time since moving to Beacon Hills.
It was in the midst of all my staring that Derek had woken up, though I only realised when he touched my arm, my whole body jerking back violently, causing Derek wrap the arm he still had around me even tighter to stop me from falling off.
"Before you say anything," I said, my voice raspy from alcohol and lack of use. "I'm sorry for whatever happened last night and could you please tell me before I have to hear it from Peter – after I have a shower and get this horrible taste out of my mouth."
So, twenty five minutes later, cleaner and a little calmer, Derek and I were sat in the kitchen with coffee – I also had a massive glass of water – as Derek explained to me what had happened the night before.
It had turned out that, apparently, around midnight I came stumbling into the house, half a bottle of Jack Daniels – my fourth bottle – swinging in my hand. I had walked in, enthusiastically greeting everyone, before starting to play a few songs – songs such as: Wannabe by Spice Girls, Single Ladies by Beyoncé and Start Without You by Alexandra Burke – full blast, deciding that, just because I could, to sing and dance along to them in all my drunkenness. Somehow, I even managed to get Lydia and Erica to join me – no such luck with a sober Allison – the three of us 'putting on a show' for everyone else.
"It was after the eighth song that you decided that I seemed like a good place to sit and later sleep." Derek finished. "I would have taken you upstairs but, every time I tried to move, you protested. A lot. To the point where it was decided it was safe just to stay down here."
Words couldn't describe my embarrassment.
And it was later increased by the pictures and videos everyone else seemed to have on their phones.
Tuesday was spent the same as Monday – Scott and Isaac, mainly Scott, poking fun at what had happened Sunday night. It was annoying, yes, but mostly embarrassing. I was just glad that Isaac kept it minimal, considering he already knew about how I felt about a certain Alpha wolf. I spent most of the day avoiding said Alpha wolf, which mainly consisted of hiding in my room and going for a run.
Wednesday, however, I was back at the university.
It was nice being away from Sourwolf, since I wouldn't have to try and avoid him, but the rest of the Pack still managed to bring it up any time they had a chance.
It was as I was walking through the halls with Jackson and Boyd, on our way to find everyone else, when those two brought it up, Jackson deciding to attempt to impersonate my singing. I just rolled my eyes, ignoring the two of them. It was the easiest thing to do. It was made even easier when I spotted the girl.
The girl being the same girl that Derek threatened to call the Sheriff on if she didn't get off the Hale property. The same girl that painted Chase's car. The blonde girl that I kept seeing everywhere at the university.
She was walking the opposite direction to Jackson, Boyd and me...and I noticed how everyone else seemed to move out of her way in the halls, just like they used to and still did to me... But this chick seemed to actually like it. I mean, sure, I liked it at first when I was, you know, trying to avoid everyone. But now I have the Pack? No, I couldn't go back to everyone doing that.
By the time I actually stopped thinking about it, the three of us were already standing outside of the Chemistry Labs. The rest of the Pack had some work they had to catch up with – Lydia was helping them – and they somehow convinced Jackson, Boyd and I to meet them there before walking back the way we came to the bleachers where we usually sat when we all had a break.
Jackson and Boyd were persuaded because of Lydia and Erica, while I was persuaded by those damned puppy eyes.
The three of us needed backbones...
Walking outside, the Pack and I made our way to the bleachers. Whenever it was sunny and warm that was where we liked to go. Besides, it was one of the only places big enough for the nine of us to sit together.
Lydia had linked her arm through mine, clinging on to it as if I was one of the girls when they were out shopping.
I was still a little iffy about being touched by people in the Pack, though I was getting better and was far better with them than other people... It was just difficult trying to battle something that had been going on for just over five years.
As we walked, everyone was talking about tonight. We had all decided – much to Derek's horror – to do a few round of Twister. But this kind of Twister had a twist – Scott came up with that joke! With this Twister, we had paint on each of the coloured spots to make it harder to stand, but we also had this 'special' rule that we decided to make: if you land on a red, you had to pick a dare; if you land on a blue, you had to take off one item of clothing – only until you were comfortable, once that point was reached you do nothing; if you land on a yellow, you had to do a sexual dance in the position you are in; if you land on a green, you had to do a truth. Peter – since he was old and boring – was going to be manning the spinner and taking out the dares and truths from the pots we put them in.
Yeah, it was going to be an interesting night.
"We have to stop by the store on the way home." Allison mentioned as we started to get closer to the bleachers.
It was a random thing to say. I mean, surely we didn't have anything else to get. We had the game, we had the paint, we had pots, we had paper, we had a white sheet to keep the floor clean...
"Why? We have everything we need." I told her over my shoulder.
"Yeah, paint and the game... We need some party food, we need something to drink." Lydia sighed.
"Allison and I are the only ones that can get drunk."
"I didn't say it had to be alcohol, did I?"
Of course that would be her answer. Why wouldn't that be her answer? All I could do was roll my eyes and try to suppress a smile – I failed that, obviously.
It took two minutes after that to actually reach the bleachers, but what we found surprised us. The blonde girl was laid out on the bleachers where we normally sat, headphones on and dancing along to the music that only she could hear.
Before anyone could stop her, Erica had already walked up to her, standing a foot away from here, arms folded and the ultimate bitch face showing. But, before she could even say anything:
"I am not moving, go somewhere else." the blonde girl said.
This wasn't going to go well.
"What were you thinking?!" Derek fumed as he stormed into the living room, looking around at all of us. "Are you stupid?!"
The thing with the blonde girl had ended in a fight – Allison, Erica and Lydia against this blonde girl... Since Erica and Lydia were wolves, they had healed...Allison had not. That's how Derek found out about the fight. He had been so angry that someone had hurt one of him Pack that Isaac had let slip what had happened.
That had been outside... Many trees had now been destroyed because of his anger and it had caused Peter to herd us all inside, before he went to try calm his nephew down. And, now, here we were, with Derek inside the house and slightly less angry than before, pacing back and forth.
"How could you let it get that far?!" Derek yelled at us guys. "Why didn't you stop them?!"
Everyone seemed to shrink back, bearing their necks to the Alpha. Derek's eyes started to flicker, the red staying for longer with each turn. He was losing his cool and fast.
Words couldn't describe how terrifying it was.
"And how could you be so petty?!" Derek continued, turning to the girls now. "What the hell have I taught you?!"
I didn't hear much after that, everything sounding like I was under water, the odd words like 'laps' and 'many' breaking through the haze.
I could feel my body tensing bit by bit, hearing the blood rushing in my ears. My vision starting to blur, with the edges starting fade out.
My breathing was heavier, my throat starting to contract. I was shaking, sweaty... I always hated these feelings...
It was uncanny how the blurred noise sounded like my dad and Zane. How the low pitched yells sounded so much like the drunken ramblings of an abusive father beating his only child. It was strange how just that sound could make me feel like I was back in that basement, bleeding and scared and...
But the noise stopped. The noise stopped and I wasn't standing anymore. I was sitting down on something soft, someone's hands on my shoulders – my head was swimming too much for me to pull away.
It was as I started feeling more attached to my body that I saw Isaac was the one that had moved me, whilst Peter had hold of a panicked and guilty looking Derek's shoulder, telling him to 'calm the hell down'.
"Sorry." I mumbled as soon as I could get my mouth to work again.
Nobody said anything, but I knew they wanted to tell me not to say that. That it wasn't my fault. Derek definitely looked as if he wanted to say that. But they didn't get a chance, since I chose that moment to just go and grab a soda from the fridge.
I found it was better to remove myself from the situation when this happened.
It took a few hours and a lot of Lydia nagging for us to actually go through with the plans we had for the night. Allison decided to forfeit the game and help Peter, considering the pain she was in when she had to bend over.
The rest of us, however, were all in white – white t-shirts, white shorts. Obviously no socks or shoes were going to be worn for this game of Twister. We had two of the game sheets laid out so there was enough of each dot for the nine of us, plus some extra, which we placed on top of a large white cloth to protect the floor. All the furniture had been moved to the side, the paint had been placed on each dot; all the dares and truths had been written out.
We decided that alphabetical order would be the easiest way to do things, so it was going: Boyd, Danny, Derek, Erica, Isaac, Jackson, Lydia, Scott and then me. It was going to be interesting to see how it would end...
So far, we had had ten turns each and we were all still standing.
Boyd had to do six dares, two truths and two sexual dances in the position he was in; Danny had removed his shirt, had to do four dares, had to do three truths and two sexual dances in the position he was in; Derek had done one truth, one dare, taken off both his shirt and shorts – now just in his boxers –, and had to do six sexual dances in the position he was in; Erica had taken off her shirt, had done five dares and four truths; Isaac had done two truths, six sexual – awkward – dances in the position he was in and two dares; Jackson had taken off his shirt, done eight dares and one sexual dance in the position he was in; Lydia had done eight dares and two truths; Scott had taken off his shirt, done five truths, had done one dare and three sexual dances in the position he was in; I had taken off my shirt, had to do seven sexual dances in the position I was in and had to answer two truths.
It was a very strange game, but everyone was laughing and joking... It was nice after all the tension earlier that afternoon.
It was on our eleventh go that things got weird.
Everything was going fine, nothing too bad, and then it got to me.
"Ok, Stiles, right hand red." Peter called from his position in his arm chair.
"And you're dare is..." Allison giggled. "Slap the ass of the person closest to your right."
That person just so happened to be Derek. To say we were both rather red in the face after that was an understatement. I even more so, considering all I could remember after that was the dream I had Saturday evening/Sunday morning.
Everyone else laughed, as you would expect them to, Isaac being the only one having some idea as to what was happening inside my head – apart from the dream bit.
It all started going downhill from there.
On Derek's next turn he had to do yet another sexual dance, but somehow he had managed to have his foot in-between mine and an arm over my back – awkward!
Then I had to take of my white shorts so, like Derek, I was left in my boxers. But I had Derek practically on top of me... The dream had come back full force in my mind and, well, at least I could pass most things off as embarrassment.
It was on Derek's turn that things crashed.
Now, I know that Lydia and Erica had written the majority of the dares and truths, and they were basically in charge of the game. This meant that when they found Derek cheating slightly, he had to do both a dare and a truth – he had to do the truth anyway, the dare was just to make him pay for cheating.
"I feel thirteen all over again." Allison grinned. "Truth or dare first, Derek?"
The look on his face was enough to melt ice, but still he mumbled 'truth', just to appease the two she-wolves. Even Derek recognised that it was easier just to go along with it, sometimes.
"Really, Erica?!" Allison shrieked, reading the question to herself.
"Oh, just read it." Erica sighed.
Rolling her eyes, Allison leaned back into the couch cushions, refusing to read it out unless Derek promised to stay calm and, you know, not go and destroy any more trees. It took far longer to make him promise that than it should have but, once he did:
"Have you ever had a gay experience?" Allison asked, avoiding looking at Derek with picking out the dare.
"Yes. You ask me any questions on it; I will make you do laps. Move on." Derek answered, calmly.
It made me wonder if it was a yes because of something from years ago, or if it was the couple of kisses that happened between us. I don't know why it gave me such a weird feeling, thinking it was something from years ago... I decided not to put too much thought into it.
Of course, now, it was the dare.
Sighing, Allison glared at Erica, the she-wolf grinning back mischievously and giggling slightly with Lydia.
"Here you go, Erica, you read it." Allison said, holding the piece of paper out.
Even where I was, at the other end of the game, I could tell what it said and my stomach dropped.
"Fine." Erica laughed. "Derek, make out with Stiles."
The actual thing was 'make out with the person nearest to you', but since I was the one nearest one to him it made sense that she changed it. Of course, before Derek's could say or do anything:
"I'm going to step in here and say no." I said, glancing up from my position. "I refuse to partake in a dare not for me."
"Come on, Stiles. Don't be a spoilsport." Scott called over.
"No."
"For crying out loud." Derek sighed.
Next thing I knew something was attached to my mouth. Now, understandably it surprised me. I shrieked – not my manliness of moments – jumped and slipped in the paint. This, of course, ended in my barrelling into Derek, sending us both crashing into the paint covered Twister mat, still lip locked.
Now, Derek's hands had landed on my sides, which I was hoping was so neither of us would experience any more hurt than that which came with hitting the floor, which mine landed on his chest to break my fall... Yes, this had happened before, but this was the first time it had happened in front of everyone.
So, I think it can be forgiven that I bolted with the excuse of having a shower now that I had lost. If I just so happened to stay in my room longer than usual then that was just a coincidence... There was no proof otherwise.
The next day, I was just happy to get out of the house. Isaac had come to talk to me after the game had finished, he being the only one to understand everything that was going on with me.
I thought that the day was going to go better than the night before – until I got to Art.
It turned out that our teacher was ill, meaning we had a sub. The sub just happened to be Harris. Don't know why; don't know how...it just was. Obviously, you can imagine my reaction to that.
Now, as usually, Harris was being an ass to me, so there was no surprise there.
That was when the blonde girl walked in.
I had noticed she was in my art class only a few days after I had first seen her – when she hid in the middle of the Pack, hiding from Chase. Like me, she kept to herself, sitting as far away from everyone as she could... Today she walked in late, dressed in fluffy pyjamas and some house slippers.
She had some balls, dressing like this for a class that Harris was running... I mean, yeah, we didn't know it was going to be Harris, but still! I couldn't help but smirk slightly as she walked past him to get to her seat at the back on the other side of the room.
Harris had to actually shut his mouth and explain how 'pyjamas are not suitable wear for an establishment such as this, Miss Campbell!'
Wouldn't it be awesome if they were though?
Anyway, so Harris was being the sub from hell, giving me grief whenever he could find something to moan about. It happened all through the lesson and I just sat there and took it – as usual...
About half way through the lesson though, I got the shock of my life.
Now, Harris was, as usual, moaning about me to me, basically saying how useless I was in a way that wouldn't get him fired. I was so close to snapping that I dug my claws into the pals of my hands, when:
"Will you, please, be quiet? Some of us are trying to work here." the blonde girl – whose name I had found out was Samantha (a.k.a Sam) Campbell – sighed, glaring slightly at Harris.
Even though the resulting argument ended with Sam and I having to leave the class, it was worth it!
Now, as it was pretty much the end of the day, Sam and I both sat in the parking lot outside the university, waiting for our rides – Sam not wanting to drive her car and my Jeep deciding she didn't want to work that morning – in an awkward silence.
Silences, especially the awkward ones, had never gone down well with me. I either scratched my arm until it bled, sometimes even after that, or I would spout random facts that nobody else seemed to know...sometimes even both.
Trying to keep both of them out of this situation, I started tapping my foot on the concrete step, attempting to look everywhere but at her. Of course, when the sound my shoe made against the concrete was then being echoed, I glanced over at Sam to find her doing exactly the same...
This was when it started getting weird.
"The line between the two numbers in a fraction is called the vinculum." I rushed, staring down at the ground, foot tapping like crazy.
I heard the sound of air moving as Sam turned her heard, heard the sound of her opening her mouth to say something.
"If you type in fifty-two point three seven six five five two, five point one nine eight three zero three on Google Maps, you can see what is allegedly two guys dragging a dead body into a lake." I said, before she could get a word out.
I didn't need to look over at her to know she was staring at me like a freak – it's what they all did when things like this happened... But I couldn't stop it, it just kept coming.
"The groove located in the middle of the place above your lips is called a 'philtrum'." I ground out through my teeth.
This was when the itch started tingling under my skin, my left hand coming to my right forearm without me registering it my nails – thankfully not claws – starting to pull at the skin there.
"'Sphenopalatine ganglioneuralgia" is the scientific term for brain freeze."I breathed.
I didn't really know how I knew these facts; I couldn't really remember that well how I actually found out about any of them; they were just...there. The same as the itch, I could explain why it happened or why I felt it, I just did. No one could ever seem to understand that.
"The only state that doesn't contain any of the letters in the word "mackerel" is Ohio." I mumbled.
I started pulling harder at the skin on my arm, glancing every few seconds towards the entrance of the university, for the first time hoping that Derek would turn up. Of course, nothing ever happened exactly when you wanted it to.
"A cat's urine glows under a black light." I panicked.
It was then that a hand grabbed my left wrist, stopping me from breaking the skin on my forearm.
Derek's hand.
Again, I had no idea how I knew that, I just did. But, you know, thank God Derek turned up. And, you know, Derek had perfect timing since this was exactly when the rest of the Pack came out.
It was as if Sam had be electrocuted that she jumped up, walking away, muttering something under her breath that was not going to be repeated – though I would admit it made me laugh slightly...
"Stay away from her." Lydia hissed into my ear, grabbing my arm, gently. "Trust me, I know her... She's bad news."
To be honest, I didn't really want to question anything, so I just let it go. But, still, I couldn't help but feel as if something was...different about Sam.
Friday 11th April – the next day –, I had a day off. My class had been cancelled because of an emergency appointment for one teacher and 'family issues' for another. So, I decided I would go to the local Gym. Now, most people would be at work or school or whatever, so it wouldn't be busy, which was perfect for me.
Especially after a certain nightmare about two certain people – Gabe and Ben – from the night before. So, you know, I needed to blow off some steam!
I didn't expect to see Sam at the Gym though.
For a moment, I thought she was following me. I thought she was going to be exactly like Gabe and Ben. But she wasn't. She had a girlfriend. While she was gay, Sam wasn't a gay guy, so there were pretty obvious reasons how she couldn't be like them – or Zane for that matter.
But that didn't explain why I saw her everywhere.
Or did it just feel like that because we both just so happened to be at the same places at the same time most days?
Either way, I decided to just ignore her.
The first thing I saw after getting changed was the tread mills. We didn't have them in the training room back at the house and I hadn't been on one in a few years, so of course I was going to be drawn straight to that.
The only problem: I had to remember how to work it...
Now, as you would find with working out, you usually get rather sweaty after a while. So, you can imagine how it was after an hour and a half... I hadn't taken my shirt off; I never did that in public when other people were around. But the damp fabric was irritating my scars to the point of I thought they could reopen just from the friction...
The only way I could stop it was by taking my shirt off.
It was two hours after I had actually started working out that my shirt came off, sitting on the floor by my water bottle. I couldn't help but glance around every now and then, just to see if anyone was staring and hoping to God they weren't.
I didn't need people asking how I managed to reach my back or why I was such a freak, or some kind of shit like that...
It was as I moved over to the punching bags – yes, it's a particular favourite of mine – that I noticed Sam staring at my scars and tattoos, an unreadable expression on her face. I hated those kinds the most, never being able to tell what someone was thinking, especially when you couldn't catch their scent in a place like this...
"Whatever you have to say, say it." I growled, the emptiness of the Gym allowing me to be as loud as I wanted.
Sam stopped what she was doing on the weights – it was only then that I noticed she was on them – threw her towel around her neck, picked up her water and walked over to me, until she was a comfortable distance away.
"Your scares are beautiful, don't ever forget that." she said, after clearing her throat.
"What?" I questioned, confused.
"I see that you are ashamed of them and that's why you tried to cover them. but don't ever forget that each and every one of those scares is another time or incident you survived. You made it through hell; that's something you should be proud of, because they are beautiful. Your tattoos are beautiful. Your body is beautiful... I thought you needed to hear that."
With that, she patted my shoulder and left, leaving me standing there wondering what the hell just happened...
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