☾

The air is cold around me, the ground hard beneath my feet as I venture through the forest, and yet, I'm sweating and burning up. Like someone had set me on fire. The frigid breeze does nothing to cool me off, only cooling down my sweat so it sticks more to my skin like paint, as another layer forms.

But for some reason, I push on to keep walking through the dark forest, the only source of light is from the full moon. I stop at the thought. The full moon. It brings the feeling of nostalgia, like an old memory coming to the surface that's still blurry. I shift my eyes to the moon, staring at the bright beacon and a rush of energy surges through me. Like power.

Then, a howl rips through the night, chilling me to the bone.

The heat intensifies, so much so that I'm surprised that smoke and fire hasn't surrounded me yet by the temperature. It isn't like a normal heat you feel when you get a fever, it's inhuman. My breathing becomes more shallow, drops of perspiration running down my bare arms, my spine stiff as something weighs down my stomach like a dozen bricks.

I can't tell how long the howl lasts for, or how many there is. It's like there are multiple, the sound resonating in my head. It feels as though a dam was in my head and the howl created a crack in the concrete. My face scrunches up in pain and my hands cover my ears.

Then it stops.

My senses go haywire, adrenaline rushing through me and it's all overwhelming. I can't look away from the moon, I physically can't, the only thing I can do is remove my hands from my ears.

I hear it then. A low growl.

Instinctively, I spin around, finally tearing my gaze from the moon, and clench my hands into fists tightly. I grit my teeth, another growl coming from the darkness around me. Rustling of leaves follow the growls, indicating whatever it is, it's moving around me. Trying to intimidate me and throw me off guard. But I prepare myself to fight, spinning around to watch out for whatever is out there, hands balled into fists. Ready for the inevitable attack.

I go stiff when I see it; a large black wolf. Larger than average, more like a mutated monster with glowing red eyes, its lips pulled back, baring its pointy fangs. Its eyes look familiar but not the bloodlust that illuminates the crimson color.

It snarls viciously, crouching down, eyes fixated on me like how a predator looks at its prey, ready to pounce.

And that's what it does.

A blood-curdling scream tears from my lips as it jumps on me, knocking me on my back. First, it swipes its paw and sharp claws dig into my cheek, head snapping to the side as pain blooms across my face. Only does the pain intensifies as its teeth tears into my left shoulder.

☾

"So what happened after you woke up?"

I give Allison a look, shrugging helplessly. She'd picked me up this morning and I told her about my nightmare, and now she's asking me about it as we walk down the sidewalk at school. After I'd woken up, sweaty and panting, I couldn't fall back asleep. I've never had a dream like this so it freaked me out pretty bad, putting me on high alert which prevented me from falling back asleep.

What's weirder is that my feet were dirty, like I had walked barefoot into the woods. Dirt covered my hands and was caked beneath my nails, my clothes only a little dirty. And my window was wide open, which means something. I just don't know what yet.

"I woke up, sweaty and panting. I've had plenty of nightmares before but this one was so vivid that it seemed almost real," I respond.

I adjust my grip on the strap of my bag, not paying attention as I look at the ground. That creature looked so much like a wolf but it was more like a mutated version of it, and there are no wolves in California. Not since they virtually disappeared in the mid-twenties... What if it wasn't a wolf?

Allison gripping my elbow brings me back to reality. I stop and turn my head, feeling my face becoming paler at the sight before us.

A bus is surrounded by deputies and other people, sectioned off by the yellow police tape but the back of the bus is what makes me go paler than normal. The emergency door is bent and hanging on one hinge, covered in blood. An acrid scent fills my nostrils, my face scrunching up as I realize that I can smell the blood.

"Oh, my God," Allison whispers, unfazed by the pungent smell of the blood. "What do think did that? A mountain lion?"

I shake myself out of my stupor and look at her briefly. "Maybe, maybe not," I answer honestly, looking at anything but the bus. "Mountain lions usually kill their prey quickly and efficiently, but then again, they do drag their prey somewhere once it's dead. And it doesn't seem like a body has been found." My eyes widen once I realize what I just said, eyes flickering over to see her wide, surprised eyes.

"How do you—" she starts and I quickly cut her off.

"I read it somewhere," I tell her, which isn't actually a lie.

She eyes me suspiciously but thankfully says nothing more on the subject, using the hand on my elbow to resume our walk towards the school doors and away from the gruesome scene.

As we chat quietly while we walk in, we don't notice someone walking back towards us. He collides with Allison, missing me, and Allison drops her things. I open my mouth to tell the guy to watch where he's going until I notice who it is. Scott.

"Oh, my God!" Allison grins at the boy. "You scared the hell outta me."

I notice the relieved look on the crooked-jaw boy's face, which is confirmed when he breathes out, "You're okay."

Both of them bend down to gather her things from the floor as I awkwardly stand there and witness the scene. I would help but it'd feel like I was walking in on an intimate moment.

"Once my heart starts beating again, yeah," Allison jokes. She notices the relieved look on the male's face. "What?"

"I'm just happy to see you."

Aww, okay, now that's cute. Guess it's puppy love. Ha, get it? Yeah... Bad pun.

The sound of the overhead announcements catches my attention as well as the other two's. I wince as the cracking sound rings in my ears that are more sensitive than usual.

"Attention, students, this is your principal. I know you're all wondering about the incident that occurred last night to one of our buses. While the police work to determine what happened, classes will proceed as scheduled. Thank you."

Multiple groans erupt from the students, making me look at them weirdly; you care that classes aren't canceled and not the poor innocent guy that may be dead? That's seriously messed up.

I look back at the two tall brunettes who are now standing up, smiling widely when Allison ruffles a patch of his hair affectionately. "Save me a seat at lunch?" She asks hopefully.

"Yeah," Scott breathes out, gazing dreamily at her.

Allison smiles and links her arm with mine as we walk away from the boy and to our lockers. She notices my suggestive look and smirk, blushing and mumbling, "Shut up."

"Ah," I sigh dramatically. "Young love! So beautiful to witness as it blossoms and grows. Truly a sight to behold."

She giggles shortly, shaking her head a little at me. "You're weird," she informs me.

I smirk, "Certified and proud of it."

☾

I absolutely love school, I really do, but the one class I hate is the one I happen to be sitting in.

Chemistry.

Adrian Harris is a Class A dickhead and an arrogant prick who thinks he's superior to us just because of his degree. Whoop-de-fucking-do, Harris, want a cookie for that achievement?

A perk of this class: Stiles is in here. As well as Scott.

Speaking of them, I notice how they weren't actually paying attention and instead of conversing with each other. And not so conspicuously. So unintentionally, I listen to their conversation since it's hard not to as I'm sitting rather close to them.

"Maybe it was my blood on the door," Scott suggests, confusing the hell out of me.

His blood on the door? What the hell is he talking about? Wait, the bus. There was blood on the door—but why would his blood be on the door?

"Could have been animal blood," Stiles counters. "You know, maybe you caught a rabbit or something."

"And did what?"

"Ate it." I snort very quietly at the deadpan tone of his voice, but my eyes widen. Holy shit, did he just suggest Scott ate a rabbit?

"Raw?"

"No, you stopped to bake it in a little werewolf oven." Werewolf? They don't exist, so hopefully, they're talking about something totally different... Right?

I look up to see Mr. Harris glaring at the two boys. "Mr. Stilinski, if that's your idea of a hushed whisper, you might want to pull the headphones out every once in a while." I squint at the man, cursing at him in my head. And trust me, I lived with a British father for seven years and he had a rather colorful vocabulary and didn't think it was wrong for my siblings and me to curse. So I have a similar vocabulary as him.

"I think you and Mr. McCall would benefit from a little distance, yes?"

"No," Stiles mutters weakly.

But he points at Stiles and then at the other side of class, where I am. Both of them gather their things with disappointed faces. "Let me know if the separation anxiety gets to be too much."

No, Harris, just no. Sarcasm isn't your thing, and it never will be.

Stiles laughs shortly but sarcastically, bringing a smile to my face.

And he's walking towards me, holding his backpack to his chest and then drops it to the ground next to the table, plopping down in the empty stool next to me. Our eyes meet and he sends me a wide smile.

"Hey," he whispers very quietly, although it sounds normal to my ears.

I bite my lip before releasing it. "Hi." Why do I have to be shy at the worst times?

I swallow down my nervousness and clench my trembling hand into a fist on my thigh. Why am I reacting like this? Well, maybe because all class period two scents have been invading my nose, two totally different scents, and now one of them is a lot stronger. Which tells me it's Stiles' scent that I caught... Which should be impossible.

"Hey, I think they found something," a girl alerts the class loudly, everyone instantly getting up and rushing to the window to see. Stiles and I rush out of our seats so quickly we almost fell ourselves and each other, but I make it to the window, at a perfect place to see out of without having to struggle to look over people.

Scott is behind me, watching the scene like everyone else. There's an ambulance and medics wheel out a gurney with a man on it. My blood runs cold; that's the guy that got attacked on the bus.

"That's not a rabbit," I hear Scott mutter, most likely to Stiles.

Suddenly, the man shoots up and starts screaming, scaring the students and causing them to scream and jump. Except for me and Scott. All Stiles does is say, "Okay" in a shaky voice.

I bite my lip, feeling uneasy and on edge as the world around me falls deaf on my ears. I felt as though something bad was going to happen when I woke up... And now this happened. An innocent guy is seriously hurt and people probably have no idea how. Maybe it was an animal, maybe it wasn't. And my senses are cranked up to ten today which isn't normal at all.

What the hell is going on in this town?

☾

I stand next to the windows in the cafeteria, waiting for Lydia. Before she went into the line to get her food she said we're sitting with Scott because of Allison and their date tomorrow night. Gods, I hope she doesn't interfere because that means she's going to drag me along and I certainly don't want that.

Stiles and Scott pass by me, not noticing me as they talk about something and I can't help but listen in. Seriously, I can't control it.

"But dreams aren't memories," Stiles tells Scott.

"Then it wasn't a dream. Something happened last night, and I can't remember what."

I fixate my eyes on them, growing suspicious; Scott has been acting strange and of course, Stiles is almost always with him. As much as I like the boy with the buzz cut, I can't help but be suspicious of them.

"What makes you so sure that Derek even has all the answers?" Stiles asks.

Derek? Creepy-but-sexy Derek? He was really off-putting, especially when he said my name. I don't think I've met him and yet he seemed to know who I am and where I live.

"Because," Scott starts a bit loudly. "During the full moon, he wasn't changed. He was in total control while I was running around in the middle of the night attacking some totally innocent guy."

So I'm right, he has something to do with last night's attack. And full moon? Changed? This is getting so weird and confusing.

"You don't know that."

"Mary Anne?" Lydia asks, snapping her fingers in front of my face to break my stare from the two boys. I look at her with a questioning eyebrow raised. "Staring at him again?" She sighs.

I roll my eyes and smirk, nudging her hip with mine. "And why are we sitting with them?" I ask, not that I'm complaining. As suspicious I am of them I am not going to let it discourage me from my growing feelings for Stiles.

"Because of Allison and Scott, that's why."

We start to walk towards them and I catch the last thing Stiles says. "We'll figure it out."

Their attention goes to us when Lydia places her tray next to Scott's on his left. My eyes connect with Stiles and I smile kindly at him. "Figure what out?" Lydia asks, sitting down while I sit next to Stiles on his right. He follows my movements with parted lips but looks back at Scott.

"Just, uh, homework," he lies.

"Yeah," Stiles goes along with it. "Why are they sitting with us?" He asks Scott but then he looks at me. "Why?" I shrug, pulling out my lunch. I had brought food Nessa left for me in the fridge; a ham sandwich and a little container of grapes.

I lean in close, not overlooking the way his eyes widen and his cheeks flush faintly. "Because of Allison and Scott," I whisper softly, but loud enough for him to hear me.

He nods shortly in understanding, eyes snapping towards his other side where Danny is sitting and some guy is sitting at the head of the table who's staring at me, making me a little uncomfortable. And then Allison sits next to Scott on his other side, chuckling as the floppy-haired boy moves his backpack so she could sit down.

"Thanks," she says.

I smile and start to eat my sandwich, snorting when Stiles nods while sending a wide smile at Danny, who doesn't seem to like him. I don't get how he doesn't like Stiles; he's a likable guy, just like himself.

"Get up," Jackson tells the guy flatly.

"How come you never ask Danny to get up?" He asks.

"Because I don't stare at his girlfriend's and her best friend's coin slots," Danny retorts. Gods, I love Danny, it's impossible not to. Jackson sits down after the guy leaves, making me roll my eyes; as much as the guy was a bit of creep, he isn't a douche like Whittemore. "So I hear they're saying it's some type of animal attack," Danny starts a conversation and it just has to be about the attack. "Probably a cougar."

"I heard mountain lion," Jackson suggests, making me scoff.

"A cougar is a mountain lion," Lydia and I say simultaneously, making Jackson look at her with an odd look.

"Isn't it?" She continues, giving me a look that says play along, which I ignore, popping a grape into my mouth instead.

"Who cares?" Jackson says carelessly. "The guy's probably some homeless tweaker who's gonna die anyway." I glare at Jackson, growling quietly at him in irritation. A little compassion for the guy would be nice, ya know.

"Actually, I just found out who it is," Stiles announces, holding his phone. "Check it out." He angles it so everyone can see, but I have to lean over to see, my face close to his.

I don't look at the phone, instead, I study the side of his face; I can count his moles which I find super adorable, and his scent is stronger. Mint and a woodsy cologne. I quickly look back at the video so I don't get caught staring.

"The Sheriff's department won't speculate on details of the incident but confirmed the victim, Garrison Meyers, did survive the attack." He looks like a normal guy, making me feel even worse that something this bad happened to him. "Meyers was taken to a local hospital where he remains in critical condition."

"I know this guy," Scott tells us.

"You do?" Allison asks, just as confused as me.

Okay, one's an accident; him talking about it in chemistry and a few minutes ago with Stiles. Two's a coincidence; he knows the victim. Just like my Mom said, those three's never failed her. Now I'm justified for being wary of them.

"Yeah, when I used to take the bus back when I lived with my dad. He was the driver."

I lean back in my seat, my mind running a thousand miles per hour.

"Can we talk about something slightly more fun, please?" Lydia asks, twirling her fork in her hand. "Like, oh, where are we going tomorrow night?" The question is directed towards the couple next to her.

I groan quietly; Lydia, please do not interfere with their date. Please don't. "You said you and Scott were hanging out tomorrow night, right?" And she is, great.

To distract myself from the train wreck occurring, I stuff my mouth with more of my sandwich and try to ignore them.

"Um, we were thinking of what we were gonna do," Allison says a little timidly.

I can't ignore it, Goddammit.

I look over and see Stiles has the same reaction as me, making me smile again. This boy never fails to make me smile.

"Well, I am not sitting home again watching lacrosse videos, so if the five of us are hanging out, we are doing something fun," Lydia says a little condescendingly. Wait, what? The five of us? Oh, hell no, she isn't dragging me with them.

"Five?" I repeat to the strawberry blonde who looks at me with a 'duh' expression, nodding. "I can't go," I lie.

She cocks her head, spotting my lie easily. "Why?" She asks with false curiosity, knowing I don't have an excuse.

"Uh," I start, looking at Stiles who was already giving me with a curious look. "I'm going out with Stiles after school tomorrow, that's why." His eyes widen, jaw going slack in shock.

"We are?" He asks. I give him a look, silently pleading with him. "Oh, yeah, we are. I forgot, sorry about that," he says, eyebrows raised and his whiskey eyes alight with joy.

I sigh silently in relief, smiling thankfully at him. "Thanks," I whisper, leaning closer to him. "I'm not big on group dates and I don't want to be the fifth wheel."

"Uh, it's no problem," he says just as quietly, attention going back to the disaster in front of us while I continuously look back from the disaster and back at him. I actually want to hang out with him, get to know him better like he said at the hospital. I'm genuinely starting to like him, and that doesn't really happen often when it's a romantic type of attraction, which I'm recently starting to accept and I'm not as afraid to admit it now than I would've about two months ago.

I'm starting to like Stiles Stilinski, and not in the platonic way.

No matter how goofy or spastic he is, I can't help it. He's my type of guy; sweet, obviously intelligent, and nerdy.

"Hanging out?" Scott asks Allison who looks a little helpless and apologetic, shrugging at the boy. "Like, the four of us? Do you wanna hang out, like us and them?"

"Yeah, I guess. Sounds fun," she says, which is a total lie. Like I said before when Lydia asked her about the party on the first day, I can tell when almost anyone is lying to me. And that detector is going off right now.

"You know what else sounds fun? Stabbing myself in the face with this fork."

I place my face in my palm, dropping it quickly and smile sarcastically at him. "I would love to, but I'd rather not get blood on my clothes. Rain check on that?" I say sardonically with a fake sweet smile on my lips which he returns.

Lydia takes the fork out of her dim witted boyfriend's hands. "How 'bout bowling? You love to bowl," She suggests. Now I'm glad I'm not going with them, I hate bowling. I'm good at it, but last time I went was in New York and my friend, Sophie, was so clumsy that she dropped the ball on my foot. For the rest of the night, I was in the ER with a lisfranc fracture which is basically a fracture to the tarsometatarsal joint. So that kind of ruined bowling for me.

"Yeah, with actual competition," Jackson says haughtily.

"How do you know we're not actual competition?" Allison retorts with a grin, making me mentally applaud her. You go, Allison, sticking up for your man. "You can bowl, right?"

"Sort of," Scott says, obviously fibbing.

"Is it sort of, or yes?" Jackson snarks, my hand clenching on my thigh in an attempt to refrain from reaching over and punching Jackson in the jaw. I may be only five foot, but I can and will kick his ass. He's so arrogant and snarky that it just gets on my nerves.

Stiles must've noticed this because I feel a much larger hand cover mine soothingly and my tense shoulders drop almost instantly, the tension slowly dissipating and my hand uncurls from a fist. I turn my head to see Stiles look at me with a slightly concerned look in his eyes, also a bit of hesitation, like he didn't know if it was alright to grab my hand. His cheeks are also lightly flushed, the pink darkening when I flip my hand in his to lace our fingers together. "Thanks," I mouth to him. He moves one shoulder in a small shrug.

"No problem," he mouths back before our attention goes back to his best friend.

"Yes," Scott says firmly. "In fact, I'm a great bowler."