"The score is ten to seven, with Beacon Hills down by three. Whittemore's got the ball, and ooh! Body slammed by Wilkens. That's the fourth time tonight that that's happened!" Deep and low, the announcer's voice spread across the lacrosse field, rumbling over the loud noise of cheering from fans in the stands.
"Come on guys!" Jackson yelled out to his teammates, gripping his lacrosse stick tighter, his claws threatening to come out. Scott had made them all promise that no super-strength/agility would be used, which is totally unfair and ridiculous as Brett, from the other team is clearly using his. As if Brett could tell someone was thinking of him, he turned around and gave a smirk. In retaliation, Jackson just glares at him. No - werewolf powers is a joke, and definitely not a rule he's going to listen to, not tonight. Not when they're playing Devenford Prep.
Giving out a low growl, Jackson waved Isaac over. "We're gonna kick Brett's ass tonight, agreed?" Isaac looked at him hesitantly, not sure for a second on whether he should go against Scott's orders, but a quick glance to where the Prep student was standing, and Isaac was nodding his head. "Cool." Jackson held out his hand for a fist bump, which Isaac quickly returned. "Get Liam in on the idea. I don't think it'll take much convincing based off of that death glare." He snorted before gripping his lacrosse stick and heading to the center circle, leaning down into position. Extending his hearing abilities out, he heard an affirmation from Liam just as the whistle blew.
Using the inhuman speed, he snatched up the ball, quickly passing the ball off to Liam, who somehow was already ahead of him. Grinning, he ran ahead, only to hear the announcer yell out about how jersey fourteen was side-tackled, causing a whistle to go off and everyone stopping in their positions. Looking over at Isaac, Jackson resisted running over. On the ground, hunched over, Isaac spat out blood on the turf grass. His lacrosse stick was a good seven feet away, and the other player was standing up, shrugging his shoulders.
"Sorry Ref, he came outta nowhere I swear. I didn't see him."
"Bullshit." Isaac coughed out, leaning on one arm and shakily standing upright. "I was right in front of you when you were running. There's no way you couldn't have seen me."
"Language." The referee barked out at Isaac. "Two minute penalty to Devenford Prep seventy-three. One minute for number fourteen on foul language."
"But-" The kid started protesting again, but the referee interrupted.
"Three minutes seventy-three, don't make it four." A harsh glare was etched across the player's face as he heard the words, and was carried with him as he marched over to the time-out zone. Whereas Isaac just quietly walked over and sat down, patiently waiting for the timer to run out.
Nodding his head, Jackson turned his focus back to the game and as soon as the whistle was blown again, took off.
"Alright folks, this is it. Because of the overtime, whichever team gets this next goal wins! Let's hear it for Beacon Hills!" A loud rumbling came from the crowd stomping their feet, and almost overpowered the noise of the high-pitch whistle. In a flash, the guys took off, scrambling over the ball and prodding players from the other team with their stick.
"Stilinski!" On the side, Coach Finstock yelled out, waving at him to go into the game. "Take over for Greenburg. I'm either about to die from laughing or embarrassment!" Shaking his head, Stiles yelled out to the poor kid, and quickly took his place. He tried not to think too much of the sounds of Greenburg sobbing on the sideline. Rolling his eyes ever so dramatically, Stiles ran up to his starting position on attack.
As soon as he did, the whistle blew and the fight for the ball began. Devenford Prep gained possession and took off towards their defense side. Side-arming his player in the ribs, Stiles elongated his steps to stay with the group, but as soon as the ball crossed the line, he backed up to the middle of the field, taking small side steps to the left and right to keep moving. He heard a huff from the player guarding him but ignored it and kept shuffling. "Come on defense!" Stiles bellowed out. Just as he said it, Brett shoved Jackson, who being as overly dramatic as he always is, fell over, crying out in faux pain. The ball is overturned in the moment of hesitation and is immediately being thrown up the field his way.
Running towards the goal, he put his lacrosse stick up in the air. Wrapping around the goalie, his defense player dropping him, Stiles cut in front of the goal and shouted that he was open. Isaac, who currently had the ball, didn't pass it and Stiles cut through the center all the way, going for another attempt to loop through. The white rubber ball was thrown to Jackson, who passed it off to Liam. "Liam!" He yelled out again.
And then the whistle blew. There was a lot of screaming...no cheering, and he was hoisted up on Jackson's and Isaac's shoulders. Nailed it, he thought as a full blown grin covered his face. Scott jumped up and gave him a high five. Giving a quick glance over to the sidelines, Coach was throwing down his clipboard and yelling out something that wasn't audible. Lydia, Mason, and Malia were jumping up and down, hugging each other. Nodding his head towards them, he suddenly had the feeling that eyes were on him. Looking around, towards where the woods are, he stared at the figure who was clapping. He gave a hesitant nod and smile towards Derek, only to be surprised when he was dropped back down to ground level.
"Good job Stilinski." Jackson gruffed out, giving him a clap on the back before walking off towards Lydia and pecking her on the cheek.
"I knew you had it in you, Stilinski!" Coach yelled out, wrapping him in a tight hug, squeezing the breath out of him. "I knew you had it in you son! What'd I always say? Stilinski's the best man for the job!" He went back on a rant as everyone rolled their eyes at the over-dramaticness the Coach was blurting out.
"Pizza after we change?" Scott threw his arm around his shoulder.
"Of course. Meet at the pizzeria in 10?"
"Definitely."
All of them slid into the corner booth, trying to fit all ten of them; Kira, Scott, Stiles, Malia, Isaac, Jackson, Lydia, Mason, Liam, and Danny. While they were finishing up their own individual conversations, the waitress, of the name Debbie, came up to them. She had long brown hair tied back in a ponytail, with freckles speckles all over her cheeks. The uniform fit her loosely and she looked a little nervous, so most likely her first day on the job or first time getting a large group that they were. Clearing her throat, she captured the attention of the table.
"What would you guys like to drink?" Her voice was small and quiet, but it still seemed to project fairly well.
"Could we get a pitcher of sprite, water, and…" Stiles glanced around the table, on to receive several shrugs. "...a coke, please?" She scribbled down the order before handing out the menus that had been carefully tucked underneath her arm. "Thanks." He said politely to her.
"Of course." A smile spread across her face, maybe to the realization that they weren't that impatient of a group, minus Jackson that is. "I'll be right back then." Promptly turning around, her hair making a soft swish noise, Debbie walked off. Stiles looked around the table to see Isaac still staring at Debbie, and a small snort tumbled out of his mouth, causing Lydia to narrow her eyes at him in question and for Isaac to turn around with flushed cheeks.
"What's funny? I missed a joke didn't I?" Lydia demanded at him.
"Nothing." Stiles said quickly, but with the look Lydia gave him after that answer, and with everyone else's attention suddenly hooked on him, he let out a sigh. "I was remembering something funny in Hawaii."
"That's right!" Isaac suddenly blurted out extremely loudly. "How was it? I haven't heard anything 'bout the trip. Were the people nice? Was the plane bumpy? Did you see any sea turtles? Or dolphins? Or-" Everyone laughed, and Isaac received a pat on the back from Jackson.
"One question at a time bud."
"Here." Pulling out his phone, he quickly unlocked it and pulled up the gallery app, scrolling down to the beginning of all the Hawaii photos. He attempted to pass it over to Isaac, but Lydia snatched it out of his hands, bringing it into her line of sight for her scrutiny.
"Did you climb up a volcano?" Mason looked over Lydia's shoulder at the picture, back to him, back at the camera, and then back at him with his mouth agape.
"Well," he scratched at the back of his neck awkwardly, "I only went up two-thirds of the way with Keanu and Akela, before the mountain shook and we hurried back down."
"Is that the place you stayed at? Danny," Lydia turned on the poor boy, "next time, I'm going. This is gorgeous. Especially with this view of the beach!" She scrolled through more photos before coming across a video. A sneaky grin lit her face up as she pressed play and turned up the volume.
"No, Stiles! Other way! Put your foot there. Keanu, stop laughing at the boy!" A girl's voice rang through loud and clear, despite the backdrop sound of waves.
"Stiles, you're gonna kill yourself, just stand still. It's really not that hard. Oh my god…Akela, give me the camera to go help him." Another girl, Haukea, came into view as the camera fumbled between the passing hands. When it came back into focus, it showed Stiles falling off in a less-than-classy manner. "Brad, Mason, hold the log till he gets on and can stand up. Keanu, Akela, help him. This is so hilarious." It went on, showing Stiles climbing back up on this cut down tree and regaining balance. Without the go signal, Mason and Brad suddenly started shaking the log as Keanu and Akela backed up. "Stiles! Balance! It's going to be rougher out on the waves when you don't know what the waves are gonna do. This is easy peasy!" As soon as she said that, he flailed forward and onto the sand.
"You learned how to surf?" Scott asked this time.
"Yep!" Stiles said proudly. "I even got a trophy in the Junior competition surfing, third place."
"Sweet dude!" They gave each other high-fives.
"What are you wearing?" Lydia criticized loudly, interrupting their bromance moment and making everyone laugh when she showed everyone the photo.
"It's a hula skirt." Stiles argued. "They're popular there, alright? It was meant to be a joke."
"And what is that thing that's black and has all those squiggly lines?" She threw her hands up and passed the phone off to Mason to scroll through the photos.
"A tattoo." Scott blurted out, and when Stiles gave him a look, just shrugged his shoulders. "They would've found out anyway dude. Besides, now you got bragging rights."
"Wait, Stilinski was actually able to stand the needles?" Jackson scoffed.
"Twice." Scott said proudly, giving Stiles a joking punch to the shoulder. "We went and got one a few weekends ago when he got back."
"I'm more curious about the stories you have." Danny interceded. "I know there's a few good ones I know." As he finished talking, Debbie was back carrying four pitchers, two of sprite, and the rest as ordered. When she was done passing them out, she wiped her hands on her apron, before pulling out her little notebook.
"The second sprite is on the house. Apparently the manager is a lacrosse fan, and said one of you scored the winning goal against his 'enemy', who is coincidentally the coach on the other team….who is it again?" She looked to be in deep concentration for a second before snapping her finger. "That's right! Devenford Prep. Anyways, what would y'all like to eat?" In a hurried, but not overwhelming fashion, they all placed their order of pizza's and stacked the menus to make it easier for her to carry them. "Alright, they'll be out as soon as possible." A chorus of thanks rang out after her.
"Stories." Malia promptly stated, leaning on her boyfriend's shoulder.
"Right! So do you guys want to hear about cliff diving, fishing at night, crab fighting, or snorkeling?"