Coach blew his whistle loudly, and the sound made my tired head spin. I rubbed my eye with my wrist, and released a light yawn. I blinked a couple times before my eyes started drifting over the lacrosse field, taking in the early morning practice. I wasn't going to come, but Stiles convinced me that Scott needed the support, and he needed the help, in case something happened to the newly supernatural teenager. Even though I was in desperate need of sleep, I still agreed and now I was deeply regretting it.

"Let's go!" Coach yelled, "One-on-ones from up top. Jackson, take a long stick, today. Attaboy."

Jackson, listening to the adult's commands instantly, traded out his lacrosse stick for a longer one. I rolled my eyes at the Whittemore boy, and pushed down the memories that tried to resurface. I hadn't thought much about what happened with me and Jackson, because it didn't mean anything to me. Jackson wanted to continue our little game but I didn't want to play anymore, so I stepped back and silently hoped that he wouldn't try and flirt with me again. Hell, I would be complete happy if he never talked to me again. Not having to hear his voice would make any crappy day fantastic.

I watched lazily as all the lacrosse player, minus Jackson, got in a line and prepared for warmups. I jumped lightly when the piercing sound of the whistle echoed through the field. I looked across the field to see the smirking face of number 24. I rolled my eyes as Stiles continued to laugh at my jumpiness. Butterflies fluttered inside me at the sight of his smile, but I quickly ignored it.

With every screeching sound of the whistle, another member of the lacrosse ran forward, trying to get past the very quick and speedy Whittemore boy. Throughout this warmups, all of the boys failed to push their way through the muscular teenager. I cringed every time another boy was knocked aside and disappointment was creeping through me, desperately wanting to see Jackson fail. Coach was yelling complains at the boys who failed, calling them out and making them run the track. By the time Scott was at the front of the line, my head was in my hands and my butt was becoming sore from the rough bench.

Coach blew his whistle, and I watched with my head tiled as Scott continued to stand still, his head in the clouds.

"Let's go McCall," Coach yelled, and I watched as the shaggy-haired boy bounced back to reality, "what are you waiting for? Let's go!"

Scott started forward once the whistle echoed again. I watched closely as Scott jogged forward, swinging his stick around as he moved towards the goal. Jackson planted his feet soundly, and I grimaced seconds before Jackson threw the shaggy-haired boy to the ground. I clenched the jaw at the loud thump of collision.

"Hey McCall!" Coach laughed, and I glared at the teacher. He walked onto the field towards the fallen player, annoyance and joy were written deep into his pale skin, "Hey McCall! You're sure you still want to be first line, McCall?" Scott quickly got to his feet once he heard the words first line. But once the boy got to his feet, I watched as he leaned forward, trying to get air back into his lungs. Coach crouched next to him, "My grandmother can move faster than that and she's dead! You think you can move faster than the lifeless corpse of my dead grandmother?"

Scott answered, but I couldn't hear his response.

"I can't hear you!" Coach yelled in the shaggy-haired boys ear.

"Yes, coach!" Scott yelled, his lean body growing tense.

"Then do it again!"

Coach tapped Scott's helmet twice before he let the boy ran back towards the line. "McCall's gonna do it again!" Our teacher yelled to the team, informing us of information that we already overheard, "McCall's gonna do it again!"

I watched the scene closely, and my eyes widened with inpatients. Scott rejoined the first of the line as Jackson planted his feet deep into the earth, ready to push down the McCall boy for a second time. I rolled my eyes when I noticed the smirk hiding behind his helmet. Scott needed to beat him, he needed to get pass him and downgrade the Whittmore boy's large ego.

Coach blew the whistle and yelled, "Let's go!"

Scott charged forward, getting faster with every step. I quickly moved to the edge of my seat, watching with wide eyes as the McCall boy sprinting towards Jackson. The Whittemore boy didn't move, ready to push the small boy to the ground in one motions. But before Jackson could attack, Scott pushed him roughly to the ground, causing a loud throb to echo through the field. I instantly heard a loud grunt, and my eyes fell on Jackson, who was grasping his left shoulder. But the sound wasn't coming from him, and my eyes slowly moved towards Scott, who was on his hands and knees. The sight sent a wave of panic through me.

I quickly rose to my feet, and stumbled down the bleachers. Stiles was already to our best friend once I landed unevenly on the ground. I took in a breath before I sprinted over to the boys, and it only took me a couple long strides before I was by their side.

Stiles was crouching down next to the boy, gripping his shoulder roughly. He looked up at me, his panicked hazel eye meeting mine for a moment. My heart would normally swoon at the sight of his light carmel eyes, but I was too filled with nerves to enjoy the sight. Scott was breathing heavily, and each breath was shorter than the last. He wouldn't look up at us, and he wouldn't move from the position that he was crouching in.

"I can't control it, guys," Scott mumbled suddenly, "It's happening."

"What?" Stiles said, his voice suddenly high pitched, "Right here? Now?"

I glanced over my shoulder at the group of boys. The coach and other players were still circling Jackson, who was still on the ground whimpering, which meant that none of them were paying any attention to us. I grabbed Scott's left arm, and dragging him to his feet, Stiles mimicking my movement.

"Come on. Get up. Go!" I whispered in Scott's ear, and luckily the werewolf boy quickly obeyed.

Our footsteps were quick even though Scott was basically limp the whole time, and the three of us busted into the boy's locker room. Once we were in the safety of the room, we lowered the shaggy-haired boy to the ground, and my arms instantly start throbbing which his dead weight was out of my arms. Scott gripped the tile wall, and Stiles was rambling things like sit down and you okay.

Silence filled the room for a moment, and the soundlessness was painful. Stiles and I were both crouching down in front of the boy, watching him closely as his chest rose and fell at a very quick pace. Suddenly, Scott lifted his head and his normally brown eyes were a dark shade of yellow. I had never seen his supernatural eyes before, and the sight was frightening and awesome all at the same time. But those two emotions melted to terror which I saw the look of panic deep inside the yellow color.

"Get away from me!"

Stiles and I both stumbled away, trying desperately to get away from the awoken beast. Tripping over his own feet, the Stilinski boy went crumbling to the ground, taking me with him. Using our hands and knees, we pushed ourselves across the ground, trying to get closer to the back wall. Fear was coursing through my veins, and air was moving quickly through my body.

I pulled myself to my feet, and Stiles copied my movement. I gripped the steel lockers, digging my short fingernails into the material. I glanced around the corner, and watched with wide eyes as the newly powered werewolf jumped on top of the lockers. The loud thump made me stumbled back into the other set of lockers, and I gulped as my eyes met the creature above us.

Scott roared, and the sound sent a shiver of panic down my spine. I kept trying to remind myself that the creature before was Scott McCall. That the monster was the kind, sweet, generous guy who has been my best friend since kindergarten. But as I looked at the sharp teeth, yellow eyed creature before me, it started getting harder and harder to remind myself of the facts.

I watched as Scott started to plant his feet into the material, and I instantly knew that we needed to move. After two years of watching lacrosse, I knew that players planted their feet before pouncing. I grabbed Stiles' arm and bolted towards a set of storage departments. Our footsteps echoed against the ground, and once I glanced over my shoulder once my hand wrapped around one of the steel bars to see that Stiles was stumbled to get back to his feet. Instantly, I reached out my arm, and the Stilinski boy grabbed it, using my balance to find his footing.

Together, we both stumbled throughout the locker room. I knew that we were never going to be able to outrun the supernatural boy but we couldn't give the beast a chance to attack, because there was no going back from that. My eyes only found Scott once bringing this event, and the boy was now walking across the concrete beams, looking down at us with drool on his lips and anger in his eyes.

Stiles and I came to a stop beside the door, and our eyes were glued to the newly powered McCall boy. He had jumped onto another set of lockers, and when he saw our frozen position, he let out an angry roar that rattled my bones. I gulped roughly, trying to think of something, anything, that they could do. They continue this chance throughout the school, someone could end up getting hurt. But my mind was drawing a blank, and a hopeless feeling was starting to fall over me.

That's when a light thump filled the air, and I turned on my heel to see that Stiles had run into the fire extinguisher. My eyes widened, and for a moment, Stiles met my glance and he instantly grabbed the device off of the wall. Scott pounced quickly right as the white foam started spilling from the fire extinguisher. The supernatural boy fought against the smoke, trying to find out of the thick white foam. Stiles sprayed the boy for a couple seconds before he grabbed my arm and pushed both into the hallway.

The two of us leaned against the wall, listening in to see if the fire extinguisher had worked to stop the werewolf boy. My mind was so focused on the supernatural creature in the locker room that I didn't instantly realize that Stiles had his arm wrapped around my body. Butterflies started fluttering in my stomach, and I tried to ignore how my heart swooned.

"Stiles? Brynn?" Scott's light, slightly hoarse voice said suddenly. Cautiously, Stiles and I glanced around the corner, and a wave of relief washed over me at the sight of my best friend in his normal, awkward teenage form. The boy was covered in sweat, and his face was written with confusion, and his brown eyes squinted at us as he asked, "What happened?"

Stiles let out a huff of air, and unwrapped me from his protective embrace. We both walked into the locker room, and I jumped lightly when the fire extinguisher clattered on the floor. I turned to look at Stiles, who's expression was filled with anger and upsetness. He roughly ripped off his lacrosse gloves and snapped, "You tried to kill us."

The Stilinski boy walked over to the boy and crouched down beside him. I stood off of the side, leaning slightly against a set of lockers, and I was starting to bite at my short fingernails. "It's like I told you before," Stiles said, continuing his rant, "It's the anger, it's your pulse rising. It's a trigger."

"But that lacrosse," Scott muttered, "It's a pretty violent game if you haven't noticed."

"Well, it's gonna be more violent if you end up killing someone on the field."

"You can't play tomorrow," I stated, making the boys turn to face me. I didn't know that the boys had figured out that anger was the cause but after listening to their muttering, I knew what had to be done, "If anger is really the source of all this, we can't risk another outburst. Your pulse will already be up because of the sport itself, but with Jackson and Coach on the field. We can't risk it."

"Brynn's right," Stiles agrees, "You are gonna have to get out of the game."

"But I'm first line," Scott whimpered.

"Not anymore."

~~~

The sound of Stiles's toy blaster filled my ear, and a smile came across my lips at his childishness. Scott and Stiles' friendly faces appeared across the screen of my laptop, and the sight of my best friends brought some happiness to my tired body. I was sitting at my desk, my incomplete homework scattered around the white surface. But I couldn't focus on my homework when the three of us were just starting to learn about the supernatural world. Supernatural stuff will always be more important than high school.

1"What'd you find out?" Scott asked, his voice flat and glum. Lines from lack of sleep were starting to appear across the McCall boys face, and they matched with the lines across mine. I yawned lightly at the thought of sleep, wishing that the unconsciousness would come easier.

I made a face, and Stiles laughed at my annoyed expression. After the situation from the lacrosse practice, Scott had asked me to get information about what happened to the Whittmore boy. Even though I didn't care about what happened to the tool, I still asked around, and I eventually got an answer from Danny, Jackson's best friend.

"It's pretty bad," I told him, fidgeting with my fingers as I spoke, "Jackson's got a separated shoulder."

"Because of me?"

"Because he's a tool," Stiles snorted, and I laughed at his comment.

"But is he gonna play?" Scott asked, his voice filled with sadness as he talked about the sport.

"They don't know yet," I said, shrugging my shoulders.

"Now they're just counting on you for Saturday," Stiles muttered.

"Stiles!" I shouted.

"What!" Stiles shouted back, "I'm just stating the facts."

I groaned and yelled my eyes at him, even though on the inside, I liked the sound of his rambling voice. When I looked at Scott, he looked upset, but I knew it wasn't because of the comment. I felt bad that the boy wasn't going to be able to play first line on Saturday, but we couldn't risk anything now that the boy is a werewolf. God, it was still weird to think that my best friend is a werewolf.

I was ready to make a snarky joke about the situation when something caught my eye. In the corner of the McCall boy's screen, it almost looked like there was the outline of a person standing behind him. I didn't think anything of it at first, but I quickly did a double take, and leaned in closer to try and see if my eyes were playing tricks on me. But the outline stood in place, and panic started to flow through me. There was a person standing Scott, there was a person in his house, and there was a person standing right behind him.

"What?" Scott said, his voice filled with annoyance, "Are you playing some trick on me because it's already not funny."

My eyes moved between Scott and Stiles, and a shiver went down my spine when the light sound of tapping filled my ears. Suddenly, a message popped up in the chat, and as my eyes traced over the words, it sent another wave of fear over me and I shivered lightly.

It looks like someone's behind you.

Scott looked at the message for a moment, and I thought for a second that he wasn't going to react to our warning. But then his screen slightly glitched, and I immediately realized that the McCall boy was having a bad internet connection. I groaned as I leaned back in my chair, and I watched the screen closely, waiting for Scott to get the message.

Suddenly, his brown-eyes widened with fear and I heard him mutter a light what? Scott's eye moved cautiously across his screen, and I knew that instead of turning around, he was going to use his screen to check the surroundings for him.

Slowly, the McCall boy turned around and the figure behind him jumped at him, attacking him with large muscular arms. My eyes widened as I watched the attack, and I knew instantly who the person was. Muscular build, lean face, stone expression, and jet black hair, the stalker was Derek Hale himself.

Why was Derek Hale stalking Scott? Why did he keep showing up? Questions were starting to bubble up in my arms as I watched the older boy pin Scott to the wall. He was whispering things in his ear, things that I could hear. As I watched the interaction, a realization came over me and the thought made my head spin with anger. First, the boys were talking about supernatural stuff without me, and clearly there was something going on with Derek Hale that they didn't bother to tell me. I knew my friends, I knew when they lied.

Scott and Stiles were keeping something for me, and if they think that they can hide for long, they were in for a real treat.