Truthfully I wanted to stop writing this story. That's pretty much how it always goes with me. I get bored with stories I write because I know how they end. But I got a bunch of nice review recently and was like, well now I have to keep writing the story... So here is the next chapter, I can't tell you exactly when the next one will come out, sometimes it just pours out of me like this one did, I wrote it all in like two hours, other times it takes days. Expect it at least within the next week, being in college now, my time table is slightly different and I'm not even close to being used to it, I'm lucky though, I have no classes on Fridays. If I don't write the chapter before Friday expect me to write it Friday. Hope this was worth the wait for those still interested in reading! So sorry it took so long... This is a good chapter for understanding what the heck has been going on. I feel like I owe you guys an insight after the amount of time I made ya'll wait. Thank you to those who read, reviewed, liked and followed while I was away! You guys inspired me to keep going! As a side note I want to say I won't follow the show's timeline, it's too difficult to fit into my current storyline plan. And as always I only own Max and the storyline. Enjoy!
"Derek is really pissed about the dog whistle mishap…" Scott says pulling his jersey over his head.
"Yeah, I don't really care," I smile pulling my stick from the locker just big enough to house it.
"You sure you can't find that website again?" Scott asks.
"I'm sure! And we spent hours playing other whistles, none made you guys act any different!" I slam the locker door in frustration taking note that my new book is still inside first. "We are just going to have to find another way of finding the alphas." I tell him as we walk out towards the fields.
"Hey, know what I was thinking?" Scott says twirling his stick as we walk.
"Unfortunately I have not yet mastered the art of mind reading," I sigh thinking about my new book. Why did it have my freaking name in it?
"You didn't show up to school technically because you didn't show up to homeroom. Doesn't that mean they called your dad and asked if he knew you weren't at school?" Scott asks as he yawns, pulling me from my thoughts.
"They call my home, they aren't aloud to call him at work," I shrug throwing my helmet in the air before catching it. "I'll delete the message before he has a chance to hear it."
"Huh…" Scott smiles as we reach the field. "I bet that's the same for my mom."
"McCall! Stilinski! Get in line and get throwing!" Coach yells at us and we jump into position running drills and stretching. We try to do everything in a very coordinated way. We take two laps around the field in a single file line. Everything is supposed to intimidate the other team, but no amount of running intimidates me. It's all about the size of the players.
"Christ number 34 is big!" Isaac says gawking a little too long.
"Keep your eyes on the field!" Coach says grabbing Isaac's facemask. "These guys are big, but we make up for it in speed. We can kick ass if you keep your minds on it!" Coach yells. "Danny in the goal, Isaac forward…" I let my mind go as names and positions are read. I only keep one ear out for my name knowing it won't be called, but hoping it will be. My head is with the computer and Max. I'm living her life in my mind, her parent's funeral, her abusive uncle, getting kicked out of school, so much sadness, and yet somehow she is the only person who has made me feel happy lately. "Stiles!" Coach yells pushing me toward the bench. "Let's go!"
"Right sorry," I mutter as I take my place on the bench. I look down it, it's me two sophomores and a junior, every bloody time. I watch the game halfheartedly, no one can score; it goes back and forth with no result up until halftime. Even after a rousing speech from coach we don't score.
"I've tried everything!" Scott pants as he dumps his water over his head. "I don't know what to do. I just can't score on this guy!"
"Is he… like you?" I ask quietly.
"Not that I can tell," Isaac pants just as hard.
"Well I have no clue what to do," I sigh blissfully.
"Why are you so happy?" Scott frowns.
"It's almost over," I smile quickly.
"Not quite," Coach says behind me. "We go till we score. We have overtime now." All three of us turn to look at him.
"What? Since when?" I yell.
"Scott, Isaac back in. Trade with James and Jack. And since the High School Lacrosse Association got together and decided it!" Coach yells back. "We just need one guys!" Coach yells clapping his hands.
"Why aren't you cheering?" one of the sophomores asks.
"I forgot how," I say sarcastically as the attention moves from the game to a girl in a white shirt and skinny jeans tearing out of the woods, her dirty blonde hair and mess of necklaces flying around her. She tears across the field and game play stops. All of us turn to watch her and I stand up to except her.
"Stiles!" Max yells as she grabs my forearms.
"What the hell-" the ref's whistle covers the second half of my sentence.
"Game on!" the ref yells angrily.
"I need your phone!" she yells pulling on my arms.
"It's in the locker room. Why?" she shakes and spins around nervously reminding me of myself.
"Stilinski!" Coach yells. "Who is this girl?"
"This is-" she cuts me off now.
"Max," she glares at him. "I'm in your economics class!"
"I don't care if you're the Queen of England! Quit bugging my players!" Coach screams down at Max.
"He's not playing!" she screams back.
"That's not the point-" I cut off Coach.
"She's my cousin. Our grandmother is sick. She is kind of freaking out. Can she just sit with me until the end of the game?" I beg him.
"Fine, but no running across the field!" Coach yells before turning back to the game.
"I need your phone," she says greedily as I pull her onto the bench.
"I heard. Why?" I ask.
"I need to call Derek," she says hurriedly holding out her hand clearly wanting me to put the phone into her hand.
"Max I already told you. It's in the locker room…"
"How do I get in?" she growls.
"You don't," I growl back. "Boy's locker room!"
"Just give me your jersey! No one will know the difference," she shakes her head.
"I can't just give you the shirt off my back!"
"Why not?"
"Because then I won't have a shirt," I say through gritted teeth.
"I'm sure you look fabulous without a shirt on," she frowns. I bite my tongue to keep myself from saying, "I bet you do too…"
"What's so urgent you need to call him? And what happened to spending less time together?" I ask crossing my arms. She looks to her side eyeing the junior a few feet away.
"I just want to talk to him. And that staying clear of you thing was harder than I thought it would be," she frowns again.
"Would it be crazy to say I missed you?" I ask quickly.
"Crazy? No. Cheesy? Yes," she says crossing her own arms.
"Did you change your clothes? You had a dress," I say looking her up and down.
"I got sick of it," she shrugs pulling on her shirt. "I thought this looked better."
"It does," I nod quickly. "But I wasn't going to say it."
"Honesty is the best policy," Max smirks. "I like this shirt because it makes my boobs look good." She says looking down. She gets my airways to constrict again. She was exactly right. "Hey!" She points at me accusingly. "You're distracting me! Coach!" She yells looking over at the wild haired man with crazy eyes to match.
"What?" he yells angrily.
"When does the game end?" she yells back.
"When the whistle-" the ref's whistle cuts him off.
"Game over!" she yells pulling on my shoulder.
"No!" Coach yells in her face, she stands up to yell back.
"Why!"
"Now we are in over time!"
"How do we end it now?" she screeches angrily.
"We have to score," Coach speaks now, making both Max and I confused. "Stiles your in take Isaac out."
"Wha… Who me?" I say pointing to myself.
"No, I'm sorry the other boy on this planet names Stiles!" Coach roars and I'm on my feet in seconds. I race out toward the middle of the field and trip in the process. I hear coach groan as I stand up. He sent me out here to lose the game, let a ball get past us, let us go home.
"Go! Score fast!" Max yells after me and I wave slightly as I pull on my helmet.
"Stiles?" Scott pants using me to hold himself up.
"Hey," I nod my head. "What's going on?"
"You know," Scott shrugs.
"Same," I say just before the ref's whistle blows again. Somehow the ball finds its way into my net, my feet seem to be doing the thinking for me. They are sprinting toward the opposite goal, I easily doge the other team, they are entirely worn out, where as I'm ready to go. A fake right, a shot left, and I win the game. Everyone cheers and runs toward me, even Coach. I stand perfectly still slightly surprised at what just unfolded. It all seems fake like someone has set me up and cameras are going to be pushed in my face any minute.
"Hey," Scott laughs pulling his helmet from his head.
"What's going on?" I yell over the low roar.
"You know," he beams.
"Same," I smile as someone grabs hold of my jersey pulling me through the crowd. "Whoa!" I yell just dodging a high stick.
"Come on! Come on!" Max yells anxiously as she breaks into a sprint.
"Can't we celebrate for a minute? I won the game!" I say pulling her hand from its grip on my shirt.
"We can celebrate when Derek has caught and killed the wendigos!" she yells bursting into the school.
"Wendigo?" I mutter following after her.
"Locker room?" she asks pointing down the left hallway.
"Yeah," I nod just as she reaches the door. She bursts through the door and spins around scanning the room. "There 16," I say pointing out my locker which she throws open. I pull off my helmet as she goes through my stuff.
"Oh look you found my book," she smiles turning toward me holding up the Strange and Fantastical Happenings book.
"You put my name in it and left it for me to find? Why didn't I even think of that? Of course, you would. You would never just think of giving it to me…" I shake my head as she pulls out my phone.
"Well I was going to try to keep you out of the mess I'm about to make, but I wanted to let you have the chance to know about it if you wanted too," she says typing numbers into the phone.
"What mess? Wendigo mess?" I ask as the phone meets her ear, I let my helmet and stick fall into my locker.
"You can read about it in your new book…" she mutters, before switching tones to speak to Derek. "We have a problem," she says spinning on her heel. "No, it's Max. No, I didn't steal it! The bodies are from a wendigo… Yeah actually, I think there are two or three, but there are going to be more. You think alphas are difficult to kill? Yeah… Sure… Probably fifteen minutes if I get Stiles to drive me," she looks over at me now eyes pleading.
"Yeah, sure," I shrug.
"Fifteen," she nods and hangs up the phone. "Ok let's go."
"Wait can't you tell me what's going on?" I ask scrambling for answers.
"I'll tell you in the car!" she yells running back toward the parking lot. Scott and the other players are in the hallway now, Max easily dips through them, but I have a harder time.
"What's the rush?" Scott smiles putting his arm out to stop me.
"Something's about to go down at Derek's," I mutter. Scott's arm drops as he turns to Isaac.
"We'll be there," Scott yells after me. I wave back as I slip around the corner. Max grabs my arm to help me up and then again, we are running. Down the hall, past the offices, out the front door and into my car.
"Go! Go!" she demands as we spin onto the road.
"Tell me," I demand.
"Drive faster," she retorts.
"Tell me faster!"
"I'm studying wendigos!" she yells.
"Oh, ok, that clears everything up for me!" I yell back.
"They are people who become cannibals and after time become these incredibly fast, incredibly dangerous hunters. They are the ones who have been killing and skinning those people. So far no one has gotten close enough to write any scientific knowledge on them, they always get killed first," she explains quickly looking nervously at me.
"Right, and you thought it would be a good idea to get close to them! I swear to God I only hang out with people who have a death wish! I thought you were normal!" I yell at her.
"No you didn't! There is no way in hell you ever thought I was normal!" she yells back. "The only reason you got close to me was because I'm not normal and that Stiles isn't normal! You're the one with the weird devotion to weird! And it's going to get you killed!" I can hear her start to cry.
"I'm sorry," I say quickly turning to her every other glance. "Don't cry."
"Stop looking at me and drive!" she yells. "I never should have talked to you in the woods. I shouldn't have let you drive me home or ask you on that walk…"
"It's too late now, I'm in the mess and I'm pretty sure I'd be in the mess whether we talked in the woods, drove in the car or went on the walk. I know the Hale's are werewolves," I glance at over at her just in time to see her eyes get wide.
"You know about Scott and Isaac then too?"
"It's Scotts deepest secret," I laugh slightly remembering her question by Lydia's pool. "How do you know about them?"
"I learned about the Hales when my parents introduced us. I learned about Scott and Isaac when I shook their hands. Werewolves have body temperature ten degrees warmer than a human. That's why I always shake people's hands, differing temperatures can tell me if people are hiding something."
"So when you shook mine?" I glance over at her. "First impressions, huh?" I laugh slightly then.
"My first impression, boy out in the woods in the middle of the night, something's got to be up, but when I shook your hand… You passed the human test," she shakes her head slightly. "I realized later that you only hang out with werewolves, a handshake wouldn't tell me why." She looks over at me, the tears have stopped.
"Why? Why do I?"
"Because your viciously loyal and infinitely curious." I pull the car to a stop and want to just stare at her, ask her a hundred more questions, but she leaps from the jeep and sprints toward Derek's apartment. I rush after her and reach her as she wraps on Derek's door. Scott and Isaac are already inside all of us stare at Max as she explains what she believes is to come.
"Wendigos are these once human monsters who took to cannibalism and over time transformed into these horrible beasts. They grow taller, thinner, faster and live hundreds of years. They are incredibly fast and unbelievably good at copying human sounds. They sleep all year round except for one day. On that day they eat, often times multiple humans, thing is they never stay awake for more than one day. They skin their meals alive and eat only the skins, which is why cannibals are known as flesh eaters," she explains quickly pulling a book thousands of large square pages long from her backpack. The book is bound in thick leather and is sealed with iron buckles, to keep the pixies out. She flips through the pages and stops at a sketch of a tall, thin humanoid figure with a skewed face covered in long stringy white hair.
"White?" I ask bending over the page. "Could that have been what ran in front of my jeep?" Max look up anxiously at me.
"My parents died avoiding one running across a street, so yes," she says in a much quieter tone. I feel like I should never speak again. "I came here to Beacon Hills to understand a strange happening almost ten years ago. I remember because it was just before my parents were going to start writing about werewolves. For days they argued about whether they should write about wendigos or werewolves. See people started reporting skinless bodies, but not on the same day, one was found one day then three weeks later a new fresh skinless just killed body showed up. By the end of that year, not a single thing was said about a skinless body in Beacon Hill again, not until I got here. Just in time I guess…"
"Why now? Why multiple bodies? That means multiple wendigos?" Peter asks from the back of the group.
"I don't know why now, all I can guess is the ten year mark. I have a theory based on something Stiles and I saw. A freshman that just moved here from Canada, a place where wendigos are known to reside, showed off some teeth that look very similar to this sketch my mom did," Max explains pointing at the next picture labeled "teeth". She looks around at each of us to make sure we are still following. "The best I can come up with is that one or both of the freshman's parents have become full fledge wendigos and are making him turn too. He's not full wendigo, but he's close, that would explain why the first body was neater, the older wendigo, the more experienced one killed the first one, the boy did the second."
"So I don't understand why this is important to us…" Scott says quietly.
"I mean we have to be thinking about the alphas don't we?" Isaac says turning to Derek who has his hand over his mouth.
"Well if what I think I know is true," Max starts as she looks into each of our faces. "Then these wendigos have evolved. They can stay awake, kill over multiple days, change their location and help turn more people to their side. If this isn't nipped in the butt, we could have a full-fledged wendigo army on our hands. About a hundred times worse than an alpha pack."
No one speaks, no one breathes, but only for a moment. My cell phone ringer cuts the silence. I pull it from my pocket, Lydia's name crosses the screen, and before I can stop myself, the receiver is to my ear.
"Stiles!" Lydia's voice crackles through the phone. "The alphas are here!" She screams and the line goes dead. Everyone is looking at me now.
"The alphas have Lydia."