ON HIATUS
If there was one thing known about Haven Salazar, it was that she would do anything for Scott McCall and Stiles Stilinski, including sticking with them when life in Beacon Hills, and as their friend, becomes way too complicated and dangero...
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She looked down at the book in her hands, squinting so that she could see the words over the glare of the sun hitting it. She sighed, deciding that it would be more annoying to try to get some reading in during Stiles and Scott's lacrosse practice than it would be to listen to Coach yell at the boys. When she looked up, however, she immediately packed her book into her back and broke down into a sprint.
She ran after Scott and Stiles, somehow missing the commotion. The entire team was swarmed around Jackson as Stiles helped Scott get off the field and towards the locker room.
"Stiles?" she called out, panting, seeing her short-haired friend standing outside the locker room with a fire hydrant, breathing heavily.
"Stay," Stiles said to her, so she stopped abruptly. He peeked into the locker room.
"What happened?" she heard Scott asked, and Stiles ventured into the locker room.
Haven took that as a sign that it was safe, and she followed after him. Stiles put the fire hydrant and his lacrosse stick down, and Haven peered in to see Scott on the floor, sweaty and out of breath. Stiles angrily took off his gloves.
"You tried to kill me," he told his best friend, throwing his glove. "It's like I told you before, it's the anger."
Haven leaned against one of the blue lockers as Stiles sat down in front of Scott, crossing her arms as she looked at them.
"Scott, I love you, but you're getting dangerous," she sighed. "It's your pulse rising."
"Exactly," Stiles said. "It's a trigger."
"But that's lacrosse. It's a pretty violent game—"
"Yanno, Kaeden used to say that lacrosse wasn't a real sport—" Haven pitched in, but she stopped when she noticed the glares on the boys' faces.
She murmured as she bobbed her head side to side mockingly.
"Maybe don't mention your asshole ex while I'm talking about how angry Scott turns him into a murderous Scott?" Stiles quipped. "He played baseball. He has no say in saying what is and isn't a real sport. All he did was stand on the outfield for like seven innings not catching a single ball."
"Who's the angry one? Me or you?" Scott asked.
"Anyways," Stiles ignored that comment, shaking his head. "Things are gonna be more violent if you end up killing someone on the field. You can't play Saturday. You're gonna have to get out of the game."
"I'm first line," Scott complained.
Stiles sighed. "Not anymore."
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Haven sat down on her bed, her mom knocking on the door.
"Hey, sweetie," Mrs. Salazar said, coming inside. "This one is a good one."
