Gasoline • Martin.

10

The next morning, much to his annoyance, Nate had to go to school. He had nothing against it, it just was something he preferred not doing, or just being homeschooled liked he's always been. But according to his family, that results in his poor social skills, not that Nate minded.

Nate was now sitting in Coach Finnstock's class, taking his book and notebook out of his black backpack, noticing how Jackson Whittemore sped into the classroom taking a seat behind Scott McCall and Stiles Stilinski.

Coach slammed the book on his table catching everyone's attention. "All right, listen up. A quick warning before we begin our review. Some of you, like McCall, might want to start their own study groups, because tomorrow's midterm is so profoundly difficult... I'm not even too sure I could pass it."

Nate scoffed. He's not the smartest pea in the pot, so I wouldn't be surprised he failed his own exam, Nate thought to himself. "Okay, I need a volunteer at the board to answer the first question," Coach said. Hands shot up, many wanting to participate in the class but to Nate it was better not to have the pressure to do it on the board.

Nate copied the exercise on his notebook and began solving it when Coach's voice rang through the room. "Jackson! Do you have something you want to share with the rest of the class?"

The lacrosse player stumbled over his words before answering. "Just an undying admiration for my... My coach." A fake smiled made its way to Finstock's face at his response. "That's really kind of you. Now shut up! Shut it!"

A smirk fell upon Nate's face. Mr. Perfect isn't perfect at all. Never in a million years had he thought he'll see the Whittmore boy talking to Scott and Stiles, less alone risking being called out by talking to them. It actually felt good to have a refreshing new day at school, with new situations never seen before.

Be careful what you wish for. A situation never seen before is Lydia Martin writing all over the board in strange motions and in apparently a different language. Coach caught her attention, snapping her from the trance she was in, the strawberry blonde opening her eyes as tears streamed down her face.

Nate straighten up, his eyes analyzing the things written on the board and the girl's body. He saw how Lydia turned around and her body tensed. She doesn't know what's happening either.

He felt bad for the girl. For what he knows, she was bitten by the alpha and ran around town naked in the middle of the night. And she doesn't show any signs on turning into a werewolf. Maybe she's the new predator in town we're hunting, he thought but dismissed it immediately. There has to be another explanation for her situation.

•••

Much to his amusement, neither, Stiles, Scott nor Allison knew he was close by listening to his conversation. What did bug him though, was that his sister was with Scott McCall. "Derek's outside waiting for Lydia," Scott's voice said. Nate pressed himself closer to the door, taking his phone out to pretend to be busy with it. "Waiting to kill her?" Allison's voice asked.