Chapter IX: The Plan
Emory was lying on he bed when she heard Stiles huffing and sighing before he even entered the house.
Stiles was mumbling to himself, "I do all of this for him. He's an ungrateful puppy, that's what he is."
Stiles entered her room. "Rough lacrosse practice?"
"Scott got angry at Jackson and separated his shoulder. Then I had to spray Scott down with a fire hydrant."
"Wow, eventful."
"Oh and Derek was there. Watching the practice from the woods like the creep he is."
"Derek?"
"Yeah, he seemed disappointed that Scott was even on the field."
Emory was too deep in thought to reply.
"I mean I hate to say it, but Derek might be right on this one. If Scott can't control his anger, he shouldn't even be playing."
"Derek was watching your practice?"
"Yeah, have you been hearing anything I've been saying? Are your werewolf ears clogged?"
Emory stayed silent.
"Whatever, I told Scott I would video him when I got home."
Emory glanced back down at her book, desperate to get her mind off of Derek. She finally was able to absorb herself into the book until Stiles yelled out her name.
"Emory, look at this." She got up and went to his computer.
"Derek." Derek was standing behind Scott in the shot but the picture was frozen.
"Oh no."
Twenty minutes later, Stiles looked up from his phone and said,"looks like Derek threatened to kill Scott if he plays the game on Friday."
"You're kidding. Why doesn't Derek solve all our issues and just teach him how to handle his anger?"
"I like that you are now on the hating-Derek team, but I also think Scott should stay away him. Scott is better off without Derek. He couldn't even teach you how to turn. I am not sure Derek is the best trainer."
"You threw lacrosse balls at us."
"Yeah, so what?"
"Never mind, I just think it would be in everyone's self interest if Scott didn't play on Friday. That way no one gets killed."
"Derek is going to kill me," Scott groaned at the lunch table the next day. "Of course, I get first line."
"Scott, it might be for the best." Emory said. Stiles just rolled his eyes.
"We'll find a way for you to play."
"Can you talk to him for me, Emory?"
"Talk to who?"
"Derek. Can you sweet talk Derek into not killing me if I play?"
"Emory will not be sweet talking anyone. Especially Derek."
"Scott, I hate to say it, but I think Derek is right in that you shouldn't be playing tomorrow night. You can't control your anger enough to not change on the field."
"Yeah but there is no one else to take my place. Jackson is out with his shoulder."
"I have an idea." Stiles quickly got up from the lunch table. "To the lacrosse field, young pups."
"We really have to stop him calling us puppies."
Stiles tossed both Scott and Emory lacrosse sticks once they got to the field.
"Stiles, I'm not doing this werewolf training thing again," Emory shook her head.
"I know," he smiled. "This isn't puppy training, it's lacrosse training."
"What? Why would I ever need to know how to play lacrosse?"
"Remember when I said I had a plan? This is the plan."
"So the plan is," Emory swallowed. "That I play lacrosse tomorrow night in Scott's place while he has more time to focus on learning control."
"Exactly."
"Stiles," Emory shook her head. "No one can learn lacrosse in twenty for hours in order to start first line."
Scott finally spoke up, "Emory, you aren't no one. You are a werewolf with werewolf strength and agility."
"We might be able to pull this off," Scott and Stiles high-fived each other.
"One problem guys, how are we going to convince your coach to play me?"
Scott chucked a ball at Emory's face which she easily caught.
"Shouldn't be too hard."
Stiles drove both Scott and Emory after school. Scott and Stiles in the front with Emory in the back seat.
"Stiles," Scott said from the passenger seat. "Do you mind dropping me off at Derek's?"
"Why do you need to see Derek? I vote no one sees him ever again. Like ever again. The next time someone says they want to see him will be the last time they ever see him. Ever."
"Stiles, what?"
"Fine I'll drop you off."
They pulled in to see Derek standing on his front steps. He wore black jeans and a dark grey t-shirt somehow bringing out his eyes.
Emory was trying not to think of his eyes. Or his face. Or him.
"I'll see you guys. See you tomorrow. At school," said Scott before closing the door. "I'm just gonna talk to him about some tricks for staying calm."
"Um, okay. Be careful of what he tries with you. He had some weird methods up his sleeves."
"Cool, yeah. Okay, I'll keep that in mind," Scott starched at his hairline. "Okay Bye!."