DEADPOOL | Stiles Stilinski 2 ✓

Chapter Four

Chapter Four

With Kira and Malia, I sat on the benches out in the field, watching the boys' for their lacrosse tryouts.

Coach blows the whistle and each time a guy runs past, he comments. "Terrible. Horrifying.  Pathetic. Unbelievably pathetic. Is that everyone?" Stiles had come across, all sweating and panting horribly, then collapsed on the ground. "Yep, that's everyone."

I watched as Scott helps him up. My eyes wander to the Freshmen in the middle of boys who were absolutely tired, but here he was, doing pushups in the middle of it all. I frowned and leant forward slightly.

"What's wrong with you?" Malia had looked over at Kira, who held the lacrosse stick.

"Me?" Kira questioned, her eyes widening. "Nothing."

Malia gave her a look. "You reek of anxiety. And it's distracting." Malia was working on Maths, something I should be doing but I'm procrastinating. "What's going on?"

Kira inhaled. "Scott and I sort of have this thing happen," Kira begins to explain and I instantly knew what it was. Malia sat in the middle of Kira and I. "But it wasn't much of a thing. And I'm starting to think it never was anything at all."

"What do you want it to be?" I asked her.

She gave me a shy look and rest her chin on the lacrosse stick. "More." I smiled sadly a little. At least Scott is trying to move on.

My eyes looked over at Stiles, he was completely sweaty, which kind of looked attractive on him, I'm honest. He placed a ball in the lacrosse stick and glares over stared at the goalie who flips his lacrosse stick around in his hand.

Stiles lunges the lacrosse stick forward, the goalie didn't even need to try to catch the ball as it landed perfectly in the goalie's lacrosse stick. There were a few laughs and the ball was thrown back towards the boys that were lined up.

Stiles' expression seemed rather annoyed as he went back to the back of the line, he stands by Scott who pats his shoulder. I watched the Freshmen - from before who was doing pushups - twirls his lacrosse stick in his hand.

"You know, maybe he's only good in goal," I heard Stiles speak to Scott. "You know, just totally useless on the rest of the field." Scott nods in agreement. The Freshman lunges the stick forward as Stiles did and the ball flies through the air, straight into the net.

"Yes!" Coach cried out. Stiles glanced at my impressed look; which I quickly covered it up with a frown, not wanting him to feel as though I'm impressed by the Freshman - which I am, but I don't want him jealous. 'Cause I know he will get at least annoyed by me if I think that's impressive.

"Maybe he's just perfect at everything," Stiles muttered to Scott. "I hate this kid!"

"You don't have to hate him," Scott suggests to Stiles. "The team needs new players."

"What about a new team captain?" Stiles remarks back, knowing that'll put Scott completely off. Scott loves being team captain, he feels as if it's the only 'normal' thing in his life now.

Scott moves forward and a ball was soon in his lacrosse stick. I can practically feel the cockiness radiating from Scott and not because of the Chemo-signals but because that smirk says it all.

Scott heaves the ball forward, it flies through the air but just misses the net. In fact, it hits the rims of the net. Everyone laughs like they did at Stiles.

"Nice, McCall." Another Freshman remarks.

"Hey, Garrett..." Stiles looked over at Garrett; ah, so that's one of the Freshman's name. I'll remember that. I narrowed my eyes at the blonde. "Shut up."