How hard could it be? • LM / SS

Chapter 6

                        "Watch your back
           when you can't watch mine."

"Scott, do you even know where abouts you dropped your inhaler?" Max asked, picking up his feet as they trudged through the woods for the second time in the span of a day. He was praying this wouldn't become a regular occurrence; he wasn't the most athletic person and would rather die than have to exercise if the choice presented itself.

He was already plotting how to get out of gym. From what he had been told, the Coach was a nice enough man, despite having a screw or two loose. Exploring the town and looking for the skatepark that Melissa had mentioned was by far the better alternative.

"If I knew where I had dropped my inhaler, we would have been home twenty minutes ago."

"Scott, since when have you gotten so good at lacrosse? Because unless I've hit my head and developed memory loss, you weren't anywhere close to that good last year," Jade changed the subject, rubbing her eyes tiredly.

It had been annoying her since she had seen him playing lacrosse earlier that day, nagging on her mind until she was given an opportunity to ask him. She'd been biding her time, waiting it out for the perfect moment to bring it up. What better time than when they were in a secluded area where he had no escape route or time to conjure up a lame excuse?

"I don't know. It's like I had all the time in the world to catch the ball. There's other weird things happening too; I can hear things I shouldn't be able to hear. Smell things," Scott ranted, walking with a new found rush of adrenaline that pumped through his veins. It was a giddiness that made him feel like he was walking on air, like he was invincible and could take down any mass murderer without fail.

"Smell things? Like what?" Stiles raised a brow in amusement, chancing a paranoid glance over his shoulder.

"Like the mint gum in Max's jacket pocket."

"I don't have mint gum in my—" Max stopped mid sentence, pulling out exactly what his cousin had described, covered in a plastic silver wrapper.

"All this started with the bite, huh?" Stiles enquired, stepping over a branch and still searching the ground for the blue medication. He had taken the pace a lot slower today, not wanting to risk Scott having an asthma attack and then not having his inhaler to help. An ambulance probably wouldn't be able to get there in time, either, so it left him with no other option but to walk like a grandmother.

Jade stopped in her tracks, pale lips parting as she tried to comprehend what Stiles had just said. "What bite?" She was overreacting, right? She knew what Stiles was like; saying the most bizarre things that wouldn't make sense to anyone who didn't understand his humour. There was a ninety-nine percent chance that it was an innocent conversation between the two best friends and she was simply reading into it too much— like she did with everything.

"I forgot to tell you. Last night, when we all got separated, I found half of the dead body. Then I got bit by something and there was wolves howling," Scott shrugged, as if it was the most normal thing to happen during someone's sophomore year. He tugged at the side of his jumper, grimacing at the bandage that took up the majority of his ribcage and was laced in scarlet blood. 

A word in particular caught the twins attention, their shoulders tensing up in fear as they stared at each other with saucers for pupils.

Wolves.

There was many supernatural creatures in Beacon Hills if you searched hard enough, if you looked for the right clues. A teen that appeared to loose all sense of control when they were shown blood? Lights flickering in a classroom when someone lost their temper? Perhaps another became coincidentally unavailable on the night of a full moon.