❝ * 𝐇𝐄𝐋𝐏 𝐘𝐎𝐔𝐑𝐒𝐄𝐋𝐅 - STILES STILINSKI.

𝐯.

[ 4x07. ]

☼       ☽       ♡

Puck stumbled into school in a panic. Today was the day of the PSAT; Puck was not a very studious boy, so his dread is within reason. It seemed that someone else shared his dislike, a girl he didn't recognize by name standing next to Stiles. She had been questioning where Lydia was, and was visibly annoyed that she couldn't also opt out of the test. Puck agreed. 

"Hey, guys. Glad I'm not late," he greeted, leaning on his knees to catch his breath. 

Everyone nodded or said some other form of greeting, before Scott continued, "You're doing this because while we're trying not to die, we still need to live. If I survive high school, I'd like to go to college. A good college."

"It's only three hours. We can survive three hours!" Kira noted optimistically. 

Puck groaned, his eyes droopy from lack of sleep. His brunette waves were mussed, and his slouched body was clad in joggers, Converse, and a long-sleeve t-shirt. Stiles couldn't help himself, reaching up to flick a stray strand of soft brown hair that was standing comically straight. Puck swatted his hands away, an impulsive but quiet werewolf growl escaping his lips. Everyone in the group shushed him. 

On the way into the classroom, he'd learned that the girl he didn't recognize was Malia, a werecoyote that had recently joined their little pack, just before he and Liam. He chatted with her a little as they pressed their thumbs to the ink pads, placing their fingerprints on their test books. He slid his busted up phone into the envelope Lydia's mother held out to him, casting glances at Stiles every few seconds. He hoped Malia couldn't hear his heart beat accelerating, but who was he kidding; she had better hearing than he did. 

Puck, like the rest of his classmates, rips open the test book as soon as he's allowed to. He tries as hard as he can to shove the intrusive, self-deprecating thoughts out of his head. You're not gonna do good. You know it. You're dumb as a bag of rocks, you can't even get past the first five questions. Stiles would know the answers, hell, even Scott would! Malia wasn't even in school until this year and she'll still do better than you. You're lazy; you didn't study. You're never going to be anything. 

Suddenly, a girl behind him falls out of her chair, and his first instinct is to help her. He slides out of his seat and down to his knees, checking her heartbeat and breathing, as well as her temperature. At the inquisitive look of his pack at his uncharacteristic care, he clears his throat and goes back to his seat after helping her stand, not meeting their eyes. He doesn't dare let his brain wander to the fact that the reason he'd helped her was because she reminded him of Mojo. 

Ms. Martin rushes to the girl, asking her about a mark on her wrist. The other proctor asks her if they need to stop the test, but Ms. Martin denies. She calms the students, allowing Sydney to sit down. Scott, Malia, and Puck hear her give a command to the other proctor that makes them all look at each other.