"Try and focus."

Scott and I were in the forest - I assumed the one that I had woken up in - and he was training me in the ways of the werewolf. How to shift and be in control of not wanting to murder anything with a heartbeat to be exact. All we needed was some dramatic scenes fight scenes, good jump cuts and Eye of the Tiger playing in the background, and this would be a full-blown training montage. There had been a pit stop at my house, where I picked up clothes and other things that I'd need since I was still in "observation at the hospital". I had crawled up the trellis that was up against the side of my house - cliché, I know, crawling up a trellis to get into my room. Well, it would be cliché if Scott was climbing up the trellis and I was actually in my room. I didn't want to just walk through the front door and leave a trail that noted that someone probably broke in, because then Stiles' dad would probably be called to investigate. Previous to meeting Stiles, I had no idea that the sheriff was his dad. I obviously get around in the town and totally know everybody.

It was Saturday, which was a good thing, because my mother would be coming back from a business trip up-state, and she wouldn't be home until the early hours of the morning. I entered and exited with no trouble, throwing the dufflebag I had grabbed into the backseat of my truck. I hopped into the passenger's side, Scott taking over the driving now since he knew where we were going and we were off to the forest to get me some training.

"I am trying." My eyes were shut tight and I was trying to focus on my face growing hair, becoming all scrunched up and wolf-like like I Derek's had been. The long, pointy fingernails that looked like claws and the elongated canines. He had only been like that for a few seconds, and it was hard to recall everything, and in the low lighting that the room had, everything was worse. Basically, I was picturing an old school, low-budget movie kind of werewolf. It was terrible, and there was hair all over him and he was trying to win the girl that could totally see past his monster side and would love him forever even if he was a werewolf. So I was picturing some version of Beauty and the Beast. I let out a sigh and clenched my hands into fists, opening my eyes. "It's useless. I can't do it."

"You can do it. Don't put yourself down for not being able to. It's your second day of being a werewolf. I didn't expect you to get it on your first try, or your second. Or even your third."

"Can we just skip this part and come back to it later? Maybe do some 'stay away from this thing because it will more likely than not kill you'. Because that seems like an important thing to know."

.

Instead of standing now, we were sitting on the forest floor. We had gone over all of the plants that were dangerous or debilitating to a werewolf – mountain ash, wolfsbane, and mistletoe – and had turned to terminology and other things, like what and emissary was and what exactly they did for the pack. Eye colours were also discussed, even though I had no idea about that part actually being a thing. Apparently if you were an alpha, your eyes were red; if you were a normal beta or omega, your eyes were golden yellow; and if you had killed an innocent, your eyes turned a cold blue. After several minutes of quizzing me on if I knew what all of the words he had taught me, I sighed and leaned back against the tree trunk I had been resting against. I rubbed my eyes with the backs of my hands, feeling a little tired. I had taken the couch in the living room of Scott's home, even after he had offered for me to take his bed. I wasn't going to do that, after all he had already done for me. He had given me a blanket and a pillow and I slept comfortably on the couch, but the problem was being in a different person's home. That was practically the first sleepover I had ever been to. I am pathetic excuse for a teenager. I yawned, dropping my hands from my face but keeping my eyes closed.

"So how are we going to do the excitemen-"

My eyes fluttered open as my words had been cut off. Scott had closed the small gap between us where we had been sitting, his lips pressed to mine. I was freaking out; heat and redness flooded my cheeks and the back of my neck. I wanted to shove him away and yell "what the hell, dude" but...I didn't. My hands, instead, sprung to the nape of his neck, like I had never had human contact before and I was taking in all I could get before it was gone forever. My eyes slid shut once again, and he moved, his hands drifting downwards, one hand forcing itself between my lower back and the tree, the other moving to my jaw/neck area to hold my face. I could feel something. And no, not that something, you pervs. It was like something was unlocking in my brain. I could feel it, and it caused my pulse to quicken, like someone had injected me with a shit-load of adrenaline. Scott pulled back briefly, probably hearing my heartbeat pick up. His lips no more than two inches away from mine, and he only stayed away long enough to breathe out five words.

"You've got to control it."

And then he was back, like he hadn't even pulled back to speak. I knew what he was talking about. It was a sort of tingling feeling, in my hands and face, along with the feeling in the back of my head that I might kill someone. It was the worst feeling, and I could see why this was such a problem and it needed to be under control. I couldn't hurt someone that I loved, and if I had it unused control, I wouldn't. I'm pretty sure it was unintentional, but ascot had managed to pull me from my leaned back position against the tree to the ground, because I was suddenly feeling grass beneath me. He moved his lips from mine to my jawline, then to my neck, which made me gasp. My neck had always been an overly-sensitive spot. Even just hair brushing against the back or side of my neck would give me chills and send goosebumps throughout my body. But kisses? That was a different story. My body rippled with goosebumps before his lips even touched them, and it brought the wanting to rip someone's head off feeling to the top of my brain. My fingers curled hard, and I could feel that tingling feeling again in my fingers and face, but stronger this time.

"Fight it," he said between neck kisses. I was probably going to have hickeys along my neck, and I would have no way to explain them because I had been in "observation".

I was breathing heavy, trying to fight it off. This was totally the worst scenario for this. I was going to get revenge later, but I hadn't decided what it was going to be; that was kinds of difficult with the feelings of murder and lust on your mind, especially when they were both fighting for control. My body was struggling internally, mostly in my brain, the human side was fighting with the werewolf side. And right now, the werewolf side had the upper-hand. I could feel my canines become just a bit longer and my nails lengthen a fourth of an inch.

No, no, no. I would not let this happen.

I could control it.

I can control it.

I will control it.

.

"You ready?"

"Yeah, I'm ready. But could you give me the example one more time? I still have that cheesy werewolf stuck in my head." Scott did the transformation, showing off his werewolf features by smiling. It was hard to look at him without blushing, considering what had just happened minutes ago. "Okay, I think I've got it this time." The smile lingered on his face as he changed back, and I squeezed my eyes shut. I concentrated on what Scott had looked like, picturing the features on myself instead of him. This time, something felt different. I could feel the change happen, slow and gradual, not at all like Scott had done. It was like someone was apply layers of make-up or prosthetics on my face and that my nail beds were moving backwards, the nail-claws springing out of them. When the feeling of adding prosthetics ended, I knew I had changed completely. I wasn't going to open my eyes yet, because I didn't want to overstimulate my brain and lose the control I had right now. I curled my fingers gently towards my palm, feeling the claws scrape lightly against them. I could feel Scott smiling at me, and I could feel the corners of my mouth perk up in a somewhat smile.

I changed back into my normal human appearance - which was way easier than changing into a werewolf - and put my head in my hands.

"That was terrible."

"That was fine," Scott said, putting his hands on elbows and pulling them downwards to move my hands from my face.

. . . . .

I went back over to the couch, having made popcorn in the microwave. I had gotten used to Scott's house and had learned were everything was, considering it would be useful since I had to stay one more day at his house before I could actually return home. Scott was taking up the whole couch, an arm and a leg hanging off the couch. I dropped the bowl into his lap, which caused him to groan, considering at what height I had dropped it from.

"You know what that's for," I said as he sat up, and I plopped down onto the couch next to him. Neither of us had said anything about the mini makeout session that had occurred during my "werewolf training" and I don't think we ever would. We just acted like it had never happened, although it was nagging at the back of my mind all afternoon. I suggested that we watch a movie, mostly to distract myself from the thought.

We were going to watch The Lion King, the movie that had taken Scott and I at least a half an hour to decide on. During the movie we both made comments, such as "if you don't cry when Mufasa dies you have no heart" and "yes because a meerkat and a warthog can successfully raise a lion cub to adulthood without dying" and "Rafiki is a crazy monkey and should not be trusted ever" and "shut up it's a kids' movie". And I bet you five bucks that he really wanted to belt out and sing all of the songs in the movie because who is anyone kidding, we know all of the lyrics by heart. At some point during the dramatic Pride Land lions versus Scar's hyenas fight scene, Scott fell asleep. I kept watching the movie until I could no longer keep my eyes open. It was that kind of sleep where you didn't fall asleep but when you woke up you were like "holy crap how long have I been out".

I was startled awake by something, most likely a falling dream. They were the worst, especially when you've slept in a bunk bed that you are too tall far. You hit your head a lot and I'm surprised I didn't get a concussion when I was at summer camp when I was little. Maybe I did. Who knows?

The main menu for the movie was up, the opening scene and music playing on a loop. I needed to turn it off before it gave me a headache, and granted I was too lazy to just get up and turn off the DVD player like a normal person. I looked around for the remote, finding it on the back of the couch on Scott's right side; the furthest place it could be from me, unless he had decided to throw the thing into the kitchen when I wasn't looking. I sighed internally and leaned towards Scott, trying to reach the remote. But it was too far away for me to reach, and I fell into him. I was reciting the word "shit" over and over in my head as it happened, because the only way I could stop myself from falling into him was pushing against him. I had accepted my fate as soon as it had began to happen, and to make matters worse, it felt like I was going in slow motion.

"Natalie?" Scott said, waking up with a start. Shit shit shit shit. Abort abort! this is not a drill, I repeat, this is NOT a drill. I pushed myself up, scooting back away from him.

"God, I'm so sorry. I didn't mean to wake you up. Or fall into. I was just trying to get the remote to turn off the DVD player."

"It's okay," he said, laughing lightly and sitting up himself, rubbing his face

"No, I mean it. I'm sorry." I sighed. "I'm going to go to bed before I just start rambling."

I got up off the couch, walking up over to the stairs. Good thing Scott couldn't see my face as I was ascending the stairs, because there was a blush decorating my cheeks. I was glad that Melissa had suggested that the guest bedroom become my temporary bedroom, because that meant that I wouldn't have to sleep on the couch and have Scott or Melissa come downstairs and try and talk to me about what happened just now. I could just hide in the guest bedroom forever and never come out. I had a feeling that one of them would, most likely Scott since Melissa was not here to witness this but most likely heard it because she had those kind of mom ears that hear everything.

"Nat?"

I stopped on the stairs when Scott said my name, but I didn't say "yeah?" or turn to look at him. There was no more than a second of silence before he spoke again.

"Goodnight."

That just made me hurry up the stairs more quickly than I was already trying to do. During my trip up the top half of the stairs, down the hall and into the guest bedroom I have come to the conclusion that boys are stupid and you should never talk to them ever because they're stupid and make you like them. Just hit them with a stick and hope they go away.