Chapter II: The Party

Emory's first day at Beacon Hills High average at best. However, she felt lonely. She did not have her clique from New York to make fun of the teachers, other students and themselves with her. To make it worse, Scott and Stiles kept whispering to each other throughout the day about something. It seemed to do with that mornings jog but why were the guys hiding from her?

Emory went home after school while the boys stayed for their Lacrosse tryouts. She had been told that some of the student watched the tryouts yet she took one look at the bleachers full of girlfriends and decided it wasn't her scene.

"Dude, the way you caught that ball on the last one!" exclaimed Stiles as him and Scott entered the Stilinski household. "I didn't think you would be able to catch that one."

"Neither did I," admitted Scott. "But its like I had all the time in the world."

"What if it has something to do with-"

"Hey guys." Emory came down the stair meeting the boys at the front door. "How tryouts go?"

"Actually really good," said Scott.'

"Well."

"What?"

"Actually really well."

"You too," Scott rolled his eyes while Stiles looked proud.

"I hear there's a party tonight," offered Stiles.

"I don't think so," Emory rubbed her eyes.

"Oh no," Stiles pointed at his cousin. "You are coming. I have strict orders from my dad to involve you in Beacon Hills activities. That includes this party."

"I am tired," Emory tries. "I don't even have any clothes to wear this party."

"Just wear what your wearing now." All three looked at Emory's attire. The oversized sweatshirt and boxer shorts did not seem appropriate. Not even to Emory. "Never mind."

Emory ended up wearing a pair of jeans and one of Stiles Lacrosse shirts. Apparently anything with the Beacon Hills Lacrosse logo is accepted anywhere.

Emory had gone to plenty of parties in New York, however she never felt out of place at one until tonight. Scott and Stiles lack of experience at parties also did not help them fit in with the crowd.

The trio worked their way through the house onto the patio in the back revealing a pool and many people dancing to deafening music. If there was a party this big back in New York, Emory was sure it would be busted in no time. It helped that most houses in the suburban area of Beacon Hills were secluded by forests.

Stiles had left Scott and Emory to go see if he could steal any drinks from the inside game of pong.

Scott had left Emory to go talk to some guy on the Lacrosse team but seemed to be staring past his teammate. Emory followed his gaze which led to Derek Hale, the man in the woods.

Scott seemed to excreting fear.

Emory left her secluded spot alone near the house and walked straight towards the looming figure against the fence.

Emory had to dodge many drunk teenagers and in doing so she lost Derek in the crowd.

She huffed in annoyance.

"I didn't know girls could play men's lacrosse," said voice behind her referring to her shirt.

"I didn't know twenty-year olds came to high school parties," Emory fought back.

She turned around to meet Derek behind her.

"I'm looking for Scott," Derek said simply losing all sense of playfulness.

Emory looked back over to the crowd of Lacrosse players. Scott was no where to be seen.

"Well he's my ride home so he's still here."

Derek looked around. "Are you so sure?"

Emory gave Derek a quizzical gaze before leaving him in search of Scott and Stiles.

After checking every room in the house and asking a few of the lacrosse players she had made as acquaintances, she was positive the two boys had left her.

Emory's head started to her with anger and frustration as she ran out into the front yard. She had decided on running home. Too bad she was in tight jeans that prevented her legs from having the stride she wanted.

"Emory!" She heard someone scream as her eyes became blinded with light. She felt a strong tug as her body was yanked to the opposite side of the street.

As her eyes adjusted, Derek's figure was developing in her sight.

"You idiot!" He hissed in her face. Her head was buzzing and she felt like she might fall when Derek gripped her arms keeping her body up right. "C'mon." Emory let Derek pull her and set her down in the passenger seat of a car.

Emory sat quietly as he dictated her whereabouts.

"You don't talk much," Derek observed.

Emory shrugged. "I just don't feel the need to talk to someone I don't like."

"Why don't you like me?" Derek felt like he was back in High School again by even thinking of asking that question.

"Does is matter?" Emory did not talk a lot. However, at the moment, she felt that talking less would help the pounding head ache she had. "If I tell you exactly why I don't like you, which implies that I actually know why, you wont change. So what exactly would the point be of me telling you why I don't like you?"

"How do you know I wouldn't change?"

"Because who actually changes?" There was a pause. "And if you actually attempted to change, it would not even work because it wouldn't be for you, it would be for someone else. Which never works. And should never be attempted."

"Jesus Christ," Derek huffed.

"What?" Asked Emory who was now aware of how much she had said.

"I'm impressed."

"Why?"

"I never expected anyone to have a more depressing view on life than me," Derek seemed to reply honestly.

"My parents' death didn't come with nothing," She replied. Emory's cheeks turned red after she processed what she said. "I'm sorry. I usually don't spill my whole life on a person. And I swear I haven't had that much to drink. I don't know what's going on with me." Emory said more to herself than to Derek.

"Well we're here," he said pulling into her cousin's driveway. "So you don't have to worry about spilling the rest of your tragic life to anyone else," Derek said playfully.

Emory silently got out of the car.

"Look, Emory," called Derek to her before she got to the door. "Don't worry about Scott and Stiles," he nodded sincerely.

She nodded with understanding she lacked.