Teen Wolf Imagines

Headstrong - Liam

You knew changing schools would be difficult. You'd been through the progress numerous times. The first couple of days were always the hardest. You we're too closed off to randomly start talking to people, and to them, a new face meant new stories. No one seemed to be interested in befriending you, they only cared about the gossip they could spread.

Three days had passed and the only one reaching out to you was your cousin Stiles. Of course, you tried to keep him at distance. You got along perfectly fine, but it was kind of pathetic to have your only friend be your cousin.

Anyways, you were tired and annoyed. Your head was throbbing after a killing math class, and all you wanted to do was get back to the Stilinski house and get comfortable in your room. A sigh escaped your lips as you closed your locker. Your arms filled with the books for your next and final class.

The packed hallways empty out as the bell rings. You turn the corner and before it all registers in your mind, you're on the ground with your books piled around you. "What the hell." You snap.

You look up at the culprit. The guy is looking down at his shirt with a scowl. The white fabric now covered with a nasty coffee stain. "You ruined my shirt."

"You threw me to the ground." You say in return. "I hit my head." You add, then slowly start to get up. The coffee cup and the remnants it once contained create a puddle on the ground. To your surprise, there's no one else around except for you and the guy. He doesn't seem to care for your injured head, he's more concerned about his tee shirt.

"You're getting me a new shirt." He insist.

As you lean back against the row of lockers, holding your hand to your head, you take a first good look at him. He has dark blonde hair that rests messily on top of his head. It looks windswept, or like he's run his hand through it a million times. He has a broad jaw with a bit of scruff covering the skin, and thick brows that hover over light blue eyes. He's only a bit taller than you are, which makes him short for a guy. Still, his body is muscular. He probably plays lacrosse just like every other guy here at Beacon Hills High.

"I am most definitely not." You chuckle slightly, still holding onto your head. You're dizzy, but sitting back down would make you look weak, so you push through.

"Hey! Clean that up and get to class, will you?" An old man, who must be the janitor because he's carrying a tray of cleaning supplies, calls out to you.

You nod at the man before you turn back to face the guy. "Could you get my books for me?"

He raises his brows, "Uh, no." He says with a shake of the head.

"You knocked them out of my hands." You say, not quite sure if you heard him correctly. "I can barely keep my legs steady enough to stand."

"You should have watched where you were going."

"I could tell you exactly the same thing!" You can't believe this guy. How rude is he to first knock you to the ground and then refuse to help you.

"I'm not picking up your books." He states.

"You are."

"Am not."

You sigh. "You knocked right into me, you could have the decency to grab my books."

"You knocked into me! Do you not see this enormous stain on my shirt?"

"Hmm, must have missed that with my blurry vision and all." You snap.

"Whatever." The guy scoffs.

"Yeah, whatever." You mumble.

"Liam? [Y/N]?" You look up at the only familiar voice in this place.

"Oh, hey Stiles." You smile slightly. You have no idea how much time has passed, but your head is hurting a lot worse. You're on the floor now, leaning against the lockers. Your jeans are soaked by the coffee that's still on the floor, but you can't care about that anymore. The only thing you're concerned about is the bump that's starting to form on the back of your head.

For whatever reason, the asshole that caused it all is still sitting beside you, whining about his shirt. He should have left, he obviously has no intentions to help you whatsoever.

"You guys look awful." Stiles simply states.

"Gee, thanks." You roll your eyes at him. "Could you help me up, please?"

"Yeah, yeah, of course. What happened?" Stiles asks as he comes closer. He wraps his arm around your back and holds onto your hand to help you up.

"Ask him," You nod your head toward the guy that's sitting on the ground. "I probably have a concussion thanks to the asshole." You mutter.

"Alright, let's get you to the jeep. I'll find Scott and we'll take you to Melissa to get you checked out." With his arm still around you, Stiles guides you out of the school.

"What about my books?" You ask once you're seated. You rest your head back against the seat.

"We'll get them, don't worry about it." Stiles reassures you. "Try to stay awake okay? We'll be at the hospital soon."

It seems to take forever before Stiles returns with Scott. They climb into the jeep, and Stiles roars up the engine. You jump when the door beside you opens, then closes again. You're confused but your mind can't seem to catch up until the door on the other side opens, and the guy from earlier gets into the car.

"What are you doing here?" You still manage to snap at him, even though your head throbs.

"You could also just thank me for getting your books." He snarls.

You roll your eyes at him. There's no way you're thanking him now, his gesture is only a little too late. "Stiles could we just go?" You groan. The pounding in your head is only getting worse, and the frustration towards the guy beside you is only making it worse.

"Just a minute, we're waiting on Mason." Stiles explains.

"Who even is that? And what the hell are you still doing here?" You ask, turning to face the guy beside you once again.

"Mason's my best friend." He shrugs. "Scott and I are taking him into the woods, show him around, make him familiar with –"

"Alright Liam, maybe you should stop talking for just a sec." Stiles interrupts. Through the rear view mirror, you can see the twisted expression on his face. Not quite frustrated, but worry and caution are definitely readable.

The back door on the opposite side of you opens, and the guy, Liam is his name apparently, scoots over to make room. A black guy, you suppose it's Mason, gets in and closes the door behind him. Before he even has the chance to buckle up, Stiles takes off.

Luckily, Stiles doesn't bother to stick to the speeding limit. Your uncle, Sheriff Stilinski, would get him out of a speeding ticket, anyways. The ride can't pass fast enough, because since Mason got into the car, Liam's leg has been in constant touch with yours. He could easily scoot closer to Mason, if they're best friends.

"Aren't you afraid to get another coffee stain on your clothes?" You raise your brows at him.

"You already ruined them." Liam's voice is a lot calmer now, but still holds a hint of annoyance. He moves his leg ever so slightly, so your mission is accomplished.

You rest your head back against the cushion and allow yourself to close your eyes despite of Stiles' warning to stay awake. You can still hear the guys talking, but their voices become further and further away. Until they eventually fade to mere whispers. There's one phrase that sticks out, coming from Scott, that grabs your attention before everything slips away.

"Her heartbeat is slowing down."