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BEACON HILLS, CALIFORNIA.

A town within Beacon County with a population of roughly 30,000 people. A town in a valley area of hills with suburban homes, high rise urban areas, but with more wilderness than the city scene people think of when they imagine California.

It was like something straight out of a movie: asshole jocks, the outcasts, the pretty popular girls with their small clique of friends.

There was just something else there, under all the normalcy of the town, past the focus of lacrosse games, Bobby Finstock's yells, past the sound of Roscoe driving on the road, Haven Salazar waiting out on the front steps of her porch for Stiles Stilinski and Scott McCall so they could start their another day of another year of high school.

To Haven's surprise, there was a lack of a certain cute, uneven-jawlined-boy in his usual place in the passenger seat of the beat up blue Jeep Wrangler as the Stiles Stilinski and his buzzcut pulled to a stop outside of her house. She got up, swinging her back over one shoulder and hopping down the two steps and sliding right into the passenger seat, throwing her bag into the backseat where she would normally be seated.

"Where's McCall?" she asked.

"Gee, good morning to you, too, Haven," Stiles said sarcastically as he drove off, a smile on Haven's face as she rolled her eyes. "I'm doing just fine, thank you for asking. Yes, I am wearing a new flannel, can't believe you noticed."

She glanced at his attire.

"That looks like the same exact flannel you wore when I saw you yesterday."

"Doesn't mean it's not new," he sassed.

"Anyways, you didn't answer my question."

"He wanted to ride his bike to school," he shrugged. "I, personally, think he's just spooked over what happened last night."

"What the hell happened last night?" Haven asked, puzzled.

——

est. 1941
BEACON HILLS HIGH SCHOOL

"Okay, let's see this thing," Stiles told Scott, all three of them wincing when Scott pulled up the side of his shirt to reveal a large gauze-like bandaid, blood seeping through from the other side.

"Gross," Haven said as Stiles went to touch it, and she swatted his hand away from Scott, glaring at him. "I can't believe you two are so stupid—Actually, I can believe that. What I can't believe is that you guys didn't take me with you while you were being stupid."

"Stiles didn't want to bring you out that late, in the dark, in the woods," shrugged Scott as he put his shirt back down. "It was hard to see much, but I'm pretty sure it was a wolf."

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