To Better The Shattered; Scott McCall [2] ✔

1.50 In Which He Could've Warned Her

Disclaimer: I don't own Teen Wolf

There were two main parts to Jackson Whittemore's personality (however lacking it may have been): the fact that he was a complete tool, and lacrosse. And, since he was hardly the type to go around kicking puppies and running over children (in public), Ellie thought it was a pretty reasonable guess that he was either on the field, or in the boys' locker room.

For a moment, she contemplated opening an emergency call so one of her friends would be able to show if things started to get ugly (as they probably would), but figured that would just end in her not getting anywhere and Scott breaching his restraining order.

They hadn't talked since he'd gone to take his make-up test, but Ellie had seen both Stiles and Allison in passing. Her cousin had looked her very seriously in the eye, muttering: "You be careful okay? Jackson's dangerous."

Ellie simply rolled her eyes in response, knowing that, as long as Jackson wasn't in the middle of a kanima-episode, she'd definitely be able to talk some sense into him. They used to be friends after all.

Her feet stopped outside of the locker room, her shoulders tensing in preparation. Even if he was still himself, she doubted he'd take kindly to being asked about his dead parents – dead parents that he'd never actually met.

Placing her hand on the fogged window of the door, Ellie hesitantly began to push it open. The levity of the situation had finally caught up to her, leaving her nervously sweating and eager to get this over and done with.

Before she could step inside, the door swung open and a face appeared in front of her, unsettling close to her own. She squealed quietly, jumped back.

"Oh my God!" The person – Matt, she recognised – exclaimed, putting a hand on his chest. "You scared the hell out of me!"

"I'm sorry!" Ellie replied, taking a few steps back. "I was just, uh, looking for someone, but it doesn't matter."

His eyes flickered to her hands, where she was holding the incredibly tall, studded heels she'd been wearing all day. "Uh, nice heels?" he said, though it sounded more like a question.

Ellie looked down at them, hastily putting them back on (she'd removed them as to not alert Jackson to her presence, but that didn't seem to matter anymore considering he could probably hear and Matt). "Yeah, they make my legs look great but they, um, hurt when I wear them too long."

"I understand; that's why I don't wear mine to school," he told her, and for a minute she thought he was serious from the blank look on his face, until his lip twitched up. Ellie snorted loudly, covering her mouth with her hand.

"Of course," she agreed, grinning. "Much more practical to reserve them for dates and such."

Matt flushed, "Uh, speaking of that, did you hear about the underground show? I heard they've got some big names spinning."

"The 'underground show'?" Ellie frowned, not having heard of it in her few months living there. "Is that, like, a rave?"

"Is it still a rave if you don't roll?" he joked, but he must've seen the confusion on her face as he continued, "I just call it a party. Hey, I have a friend that can hook us up with some tickets if you want to go?"

Well, it had been a while since she'd gone to a decent party. In New York, she'd done that stuff all the time: drinking, dancing, making out with guys she didn't even know the names of. It would be cool to do something like that again. "Sure," Ellie agreed, nodding. "Definitely, maybe we could coerce some other people into joining us, make it a group thing?"