.

And if we've only got this life
You get me through
And if we've only got this life
In this adventure oh then I
Want to share it with you


Chapter 24: Rejuvenation


The next day Sherry pranced into school with a box of pink cupcakes. Parrish had shooed her out of the house as soon as he possibly could, but a quick glance into her cupcake box showed that he'd stolen two of the cakes. Typical, she thought, but she didn't mind. Her soul was soaring today.

Sherry wore a short circle skirt the same color as the frosting and a lace-edged white crop top. The skirt fluttered in the August breeze and her freshly curled ringlets bounced with her every step.

She blew into AP Bio humming the Hairspray soundtrack and offered Ms. Finch a cupcake. The teacher, eyeing Sherry warily, accepted the cake and noted, "Can you tell me how many calories are in this?"

"According to Google, about 130," Sherry grinned.

"And how much ATP is that?"

Sherry hesitated, then pulled out her phone. "Um... approximately zero-point-zero-two moles. I think." She grinned again and skipped to her seat. "Good morning."

Ms. Finch raised an eyebrow in bemusement. "You are the happiest person I've ever seen on a Monday morning."

Sherry just beamed and flipped open her textbook to read from tomorrow's lesson. She'd already studied today's. Soon enough, other students filtered into the classroom, dressed in drab shades of gray and black. No one quite seemed to notice her, not even her friends, which normally would have prompted her ego-meter to sink, but today hardly affected her at all. She flounced around the room and placed cupcakes at Lydia's, Kira's, Scott's, and Theo's seats. And just because she felt like it, she gave one to Sydney as well, who still seemed to be fidgety about the drop slips.

It took Lydia, Scott, and Kira a double- or triple-take before they finally realized that the bouncing sophomore in pink was, in fact, Sherry Ming. Theo didn't show up until a minute before the bell, but when he did, he just chuckled and held his arms out for a hug.

Sherry, glad that finally someone was speaking her language, squeezed him as tightly as she could around his tree trunk-like torso. She let go a few moments later and sat lightly into her seat, wondering, "What was that for?" simply because she was curious.

"Couldn't let you steal all the fun for the rest of us," he joked, ruffling her hair. "And I think we all need a little joy in our lives right now."

She patted his arm. "I know how you feel."

"I don't doubt it." He chomped into his cupcake. "We should talk sometime."

Sherry nodded eagerly. "Totally."

"We're studying again today, right?"

"Yep. And Scott promised he'd come this time."


Mason and Liam had about the same reaction as the rest of the pack when she pranced into English and handed Mr. S a pink cupcake. "Happy birthday!" she chirped, and twirled to her seat.

"You made Mr. S cupcakes for his birthday?" Mason hissed, incredulous.

"No," Sherry corrected airily, "I made cupcakes and it's also his birthday. Want one?"

Mason just stared at her. "There is something up with you and I'm not sure if I like it."

She turned around and nudged the box at Liam. "Do you want one?"

"Well, you didn't actually poison the cookie last time," he reasoned, and took a cupcake. He nibbled at it tentatively, froze, then stuffed the entire thing into his mouth. "It good," he said, his voice muffled by the cake.

Sherry turned back to Mason, smirking.


At the start of lunch, Sherry linked arms with Liam and skipped down the hall. The boy's cheeks reddened as other students started to stare at the ecstatic girl next to him. With his dignity on the line, he hurried his steps to keep pace with Sherry and resolutely refused to skip, no matter how much Sherry cajoled him.

"We're gonna distribute the rest of the cupcakes," she informed him, and skipped out of the main school building, toward the stairs where Scott and Stiles sometimes hung out. They were there now, scribbling out homework amid bits of conversation.

"Hey, Stiles!" Sherry called, still as bright and fresh as dew.

He stumbled backward. "What happened to you?!"

She blinked. "I decided to climb out of my swamp of negativity for a day. Cupcake?"

"You never wear pink. What happened to your black, neutral colors, and more black?"

"Pink is my favorite color," she said. "Don't be so shocked that you don't know everything about me." She could feel the enthusiasm in her tone slipping. She'd meant to be happy today.

Stiles looked to Scott and Liam. "Are doppelgängers a thing? Is shapeshifting or cloning possible? I don't trust her."

"You never trust anyone," Scott pointed out.

"Stiles," Sherry stated, "If you want, I can go back to the usual sad, broody, closed-off me. The version of me I've been since my life turned into one big crisis. But I don't want to be that Sherry. I want to be happy sometimes; I want to be able to let go." Her voice wavered. She saw the immediate change in Stiles's expression. He looked guilty, like he pitied her. "Sorry," she murmured, setting the box down, and hurried away.

She was barely ten steps away when Liam caught up to her, carrying the box. "Sherr," he said, softly. "Don't let him get to you."

"It wasn't him. It was me. I'm so used to being unhappy that I can't even keep consistently happy, even when I try." She was at a side section of lawn now, the grass a signature California brown and in need of mowing. There were occasional patches of green spread randomly around. She sank to the ground, tugging at a blade. "Did you know that I used to be like this - like I was today up until now - all the time? I used to wear bright colors and skirts and dresses all the time. I baked cakes and cupcakes and cookies for my friends' birthdays and I had fun."

Liam sat too and pulled a handful of little purple-white clover flowers from the dying grass. He unsheathed his claws and began poking holes in the stems, threading flowers stems through stems. "You don't have to be one way or another," he said, reaching an arm around her. "Don't beat yourself up, Sherry. Let yourself be happy and forget what Stiles says. And, just saying, when you're happy, everyone else's happy." He continued making the flower chain, but with one arm stretched around Sherry, he could only reach so far, thus ending up having to scoot closer. The flowers were almost right in front of Sherry's face. "You lit up the whole room. I've never seen anyone else do that so fast."

She sighed, leaning her head on his shoulder. "It's hard," she allowed. "I have to focus on every smile, every move. I used to be able to bounce around freely, but now I'm trying to fit into shoes I've grown out of. I'm not trying to be someone I'm not, but it certainly feels like it." She gazed up at him, but his eyes were focused on the clover flowers. "Right now I'm fighting the urge to retract, to move away from you as fast as I can. Hugs are forced and awkward for me, but no one can tell."

"I can," he said, surprising her. "Every few seconds you tense a little bit. If I wasn't a werewolf I wouldn't feel it. And before, if I touched you at all, any form of physical contact, you'd flinch."

She bit her tongue. She hadn't known he'd noticed.

"I bet it's like starting a new habit," he mused. "Weird at first, but eventually you'll adjust." He finished his flower chain and brought back his arm, scooting on the grass so that he was directly in front of Sherry. Following the motions of a coronation ceremony, he dramatically placed the flower crown on her head, adjusting it until it looked right, and let his hands fall. His fingers brushed over the strands of hair framing her face like a caress. Sherry stared at him, her body rigid from proximity. Then he tucked a few forefront locks behind her ear, echoing the movements of the love interest from every romance Sherry'd ever read.

"There," he grinned, standing up. "Now you both look like and act like a fairy. Your look is complete." He stood up and offered her a hand. "I think we have some cupcake-delivering to get to."

Her heart blossomed again. She beamed and kissed his cheek. "I think you're right, sir. Whence shall I find Hayden?"


After school, she met her study buddy in the hall. "Theo!" she squealed, sprinting down the corridor. Before he had the chance to turn around, she leaped onto his back.

"Ow," he complained with a pout.

She giggled. "I thought you were supposed to be strong, with all your superpowers and working out and whatnot."

"Well, I wasn't expecting that!"

She pointed forward, like she was a knight and he was her mount. "To the library!"

"You're a brat," he said, and complied.

On the walk there, Sherry noticed several girls staring. They weren't the only ones, but they did have a certain look to them, and when they saw Sherry riding piggyback, their eyes narrowed.

"Theo," Sherry hissed into his ear, "I think you've got some admirers."

"I know," he answered. "I can smell emotions."

"How do I smell?"

"Like cupcakes, shampoo, nerves, and excitement. Your heart rate is exactly 89 beats per minute."

"Ooh," she said.

They met Scott at the library and studied for about an hour, during which Sherry learned that despite her notion about the alpha's perfection was quite ungrounded. Scott, she noticed, was not as smart as she'd thought. He had to take notes on the textbook, highlight it, and write out stacks of flashcards just to memorize the information. He was slow, but he was hardworking. Sherry'd always been in gifted and advanced programs, able to learn quickly and easily. Theo, it seemed, was the same. But Scott reached their level by persevering, and Sherry thought she couldn't have respected him more.

Scott left first, to go work the veterinary clinic. Deaton, who Sherry hadn't seen in months, was off on some secret business and hadn't been back for weeks.

After another hour, Theo reminded Sherry of her promise for a talk. She checked her phone and started at the time.

"Tomorrow?" she apologized. "I have to meet Kira in ten minutes!"

Theo made a puppy dog face. "Please? You said you would."

Something clicked in the back of her mind and she decided, "You're right, sorry. Let's talk."

Theo smiled, satisfied, and glanced at the librarian. "How about outside?"

So Sherry went with Theo for a walk, following as he went for the quiet trails of Beacon Hills Preserve that branched off from the edge of campus.

"Tell me about your parents," he said, and Sherry took a sharp intake of breath.

"What?"

"You live with Parrish, don't you?" Theo explained. "Something must have happened to your parents."

She really didn't want to talk about something quite so depressing again. "Theo-"

"Come on," he coaxed. "Tell me. It's fine."

She told him. She started with her mother's court hearings, then her father's murder, up until her visit to Mexico with Braeden. She wasn't sure why, but she told him everything. He just had something about him that made her trust him.

"Do you think your mother is guilty?" he said, catching her off guard.

She blinked. "Yes. Despite her motives, she did actually steal classified information."

"I don't think she's guilty," Theo said, and Sherry just stared, trying to comprehend. "Who's really at fault here? The mother who thought she was doing the right thing to protect innocent lives, including her daughter, or the sadistic hunting clan that exploited her goodwill?"

"Uh..."

"The thing is, Sherry," he continued, kicking aside a green fallen leaf, "That you let others do your thinking for you. I'm not trying to be mean, but just think about it. You know it's true. When your mother first got herself into trouble, you blamed the Calaveras. When the Calaveras gave you an alternate explanation, let you think your mother was to blame, you believed them. And now you're two inches away from believing what I just said solely because you trust me. Do you get it?"

"Yes," she whispered, feeling terrible about herself because she knew it was true. She could think of a thousand other examples of not thinking for herself right at that moment, and just wanted to go climb a tree and stay hidden in the leaves for a week or so.

Theo stopped, turning to face her with a look of complete solemnity and empathy. "Listen, you shouldn't trust what anyone says, not even me. Think about what you know, all the bare facts, and decide for yourself: Does your mother deserve to be imprisoned?"

She thought. Her mother had good intentions - that had been established. And all she'd done to be indicted was share the content of classified files. The effects? She'd gotten several werewolves and supernatural creatures killed. And Araya Calaveras had said she'd known - about the deaths, anyway.

What else did she know? Unfortunately, most of Sherry's information had come from Araya. Could she trust that what she'd said was true? For the time being, she had to.

"My mother betrayed secret information and knew she was getting people killed. She did it for the greater good and only turned herself in when her life, and I guess her family's, was at stake." So what was morally right or wrong? Sherry considered, and immediately thought of Scott. What would Scott do? He wouldn't kill, not even murderers, but he'd do anything to save innocent people. But Sherry's mother didn't have the same physical or moral advantages as Scott. So where did the line lay? "I want to believe she's innocent," Sherry said, finally. "But I really don't know."

"What if I told you we could get her out?" Theo said, his lips curling deviously. "It'll be sneaky, and illegal, and dangerous, but we can do it."

"Il- illegal?" Sherry squeaked. "Uh..."

"She's your mother," Theo reminded her. "Wouldn't you do anything to save her?"

"Yes, but-"

"I promise I won't let it go bad," he said. "What do you say?"

She didn't know why he was doing this. Why he was so passionate about her mother's innocence. If it were anyone else, she would have wondered that the catch was, what Theo was getting out of it. But she didn't, because it was absolutely irrational to even suggest. Theo wasn't like that. She could trust him.

But too often trust is placed in facades.