moving on» stilinski

Chapter Eight

o8 // werewolves? no way

I can't believe what I'm seeing right now. No, I refuse to.

I mean, come on! Werewolves? It's absurd. Yeah, my comment about how the supernatural makes sense? I take it back, it makes no sense whatsoever. None at all, zilch. Want to hear it in Spanish? ¡Nada!

Oh my god, what has my life come to?

The only solution I can come up with to the questions that have been plaguing my mind about Stiles and Scott is that Scott must have taken some drugs like steroids and whatnot and Stiles is just crazy.

They both are.

After hurting my brain for a good seven hours at the computer, I go stand by my window and press my face against the cool glass. My nose now pressed up the wrong way showing I look like a pig, I notice the worst thing possible.

Someone is starting back at me. With yellow eyes that are almost, I know who that someone is.

Scott.

~

The big game against MFH has finally come about and I decide to not change my outfit but instead just put a thick parka jacket on, forecast says it's meant to be cold.

Tonight is Scott's first game and although him and his friend, Stiles, are kind of freaking me out at the moment, I think Lydia would actually kill me if I don't attend.

I go to say (more like wave) bye to my mother, but it appears she's not here. Must be at work, I conclude.

I make my way to the school and get there in less than ten minutes.

I take a seat on a bleacher and then whip my head around when I hear someone calling out my name.

It's Lydia and she's sat next to Allison and some middle-aged man. I walk up the bleachers towards them as Lydia scoots along the bench and I take the seat on the aisle. I soon learn that the middle-aged man is Chris, Allison's father.

Just before the game starts, Lydia asks me to move and I stand up from my seat. I see her leave and approach Scott. After an exchange of words, mostly from Lydia: a scared Scott, a shocked Stiles and a satisfied Lydia leave the conversation.

And the game begins.

No players on Scott's team are willing to pass to Scott but from what I can tell he does have an opening at some point. He goes for the ball...only to have Jackson knock him down before Scott can reach it. I don't know a lot about lacrosse, or sports in general but I'm pretty sure that you're meant to work against the other team's members, not your own.

So Jackson scores instead.

I laugh as there's a mixture of cheers--loud, supportive ones say from Lydia, and envious ones from say Ms. McCall.

"Guys, help me here, will you?" Lydia asks sweetly as she gets Allison to hold one side of a poster and Lydia holds the other in the air with pride. "Not going to help, Nora?" I shook my head no in reply. The poster reads 'We Luv u Jackson'. For a start, I will not hold up a poster for a douche and secondly, I will not associate myself with incorrect spelling.

And obviously, Scott sees the banner and reacts terribly.

A bunch of things happen that don't particularly spark my interest. Chris asks who Scott is, Lydia bad mouths him and the game is continuously played.

Towards the end, I signal to the others that I'm going to the bathroom. I just need to get out of here, even though we're outside I'm starting to feel short of breath and need some space.

With my back to the game, I hear cheers and a buzzer going off. I know it must be the end of the game now and by the amount of cheering, we've won.

I stumble into the bathroom and splash water on my face. Then I realise I'm hyperventilating. Why am I hyperventilating? I'm not panicking or anything.

I look up into the mirror and meet my eyes in the reflection. Wait a second...my eyes are silver.

I hear a crash to my left and look back again at my eyes. They're a normal green again.

Must have just been my imagination.

~

I walk towards the crashing sound, finding the boy's locker room. The smell of sweat and smelly socks repel me but I go against it and slowly open the door to the room. I see Stiles, quietly groaning.

His head whips around the locker and he presses his finger against his lips. I roll my eyes and see a dazed looking Allison walk out from behind the locker Stiles is stood in front of and waves at us both.

"Hi Stiles. Hey Nora." She walks past me and I turn to Stiles, a disgusted look on my face. He was watching Allison and Scott smooch!

He completely ignores my look and leans back against the locker so that his body is facing me completely.

"I'm not that good at hiding, am I?" I sigh and go to leave the room. "Nor--agh no."

I catch up with Allison and rub her arm whilst I waggle my eyebrows at her, receiving a blush from her. Even though Scott and Stiles scare the shit out of me, I'm happy Allison is happy.

"It just, ah it was kinda romantic." She tells me how they had a talk about chances and opportunities and it led to them two kissing.

I give her a thumbs up in support as we reach her father, Chris. He gives me a rare smile and I beam back at him.

Chris and Allison leave, I wave them off. I don't leave with them because I left my bag on the bleachers. I go up to the third row and grab my rucksack. I look at my watch, thankful my mother is at work. She'd kill me if she was off, she likes to have a curfew--no later than nine o'clock.

I look up from my watch and see it's just Jackson on the field, holding a lacrosse glove and he looks at it, almost fascinated.

He turns his head in a direction behind me, sparking my curiosity so I, obviously, turn around too.

Derek is silhouetted on the field, his features hard to make out. He's staring at Jackson, none of them taking any notice of me. The creeper doesn't do anything, the only thing he does do is turn to go after a few minutes of looking at Jackson.

His eyes meet mine before he leaves, and I feel something cold around my eyes.