'I didn't change; I just see things differently now.' unknown.

season 1, episode 2
second chance at first line

The night of the first game was frigid. No one was brave enough to face the cold that night. Consumed by layers, everyone on the bleachers kept close. Beacon Hills received cold weather every once in a while, still the citizens were never prepared. Pure Californian at heart. Neviah exhaled, watching the air turn visible and then invisible. A frosty confession left for flora and fauna yearning to warm them. She beamed, aching her cold cheeks further.

"How can you be so happy, it's like negative fifty degrees out?" Allison exaggerated, underneath her two jackets, knitted gloves, and hat. She patted her hands to her flushed cheeks, trying to gain the feeling back.

Neviah laughed at her friend, taking her arm into hers. She leaned her head onto Allison's shoulder to give warmth. "Winter is my favorite season. I don't care how cold it is, I will love it."

"It's 'cause she's a freak," Malikai teased, joining the two in his lacrosse gear. Neviah jutted her head dramatically. "Are you two ready to see Beacon Hills beat Mystic Falls' ass?"

The two girls locked their eyes, getting infected by the others' smiles. "Don't get too cocky, Mal, it causes bad luck," Neviah teased, narrowing her eyes playfully, pointing a covered finger toward him.

"The whole team already has bad luck. Lahey withdrew at the last minute for work, Jackson still has a shit shoulder, and Scott looks like he's going to cry," Mal explained, hustling each word out with more speed than the last. Anxiety leaked from his pores and drowned his eyes. Neviah grimaced internally. He was actually nervous.

He points to Allison as the gears in his head turn on. A light bulb flickered. "You should give him, like, a pep talk or, a kiss, whatever. Something like that so he doesn't suck ass."

Allison's mouth gaped.

Neviah reacted quickly to correct his careless words. "He's joking! Right, Mal?" She glared at him. He nodded rapidly. It was like the past was coming back. Derek came back, Harley confided in Neviah, and now Malikai has lost control. "Scott will do fine, the team will do fine. And we will win, like always."

Allison took Neviah's reassurance as truth, ignoring her negative thoughts. If Neviah could believe the team would do good, she could too. Only, Neviah did not believe her words, she just wanted one less anxious person to deal with. Lydia was already enough.

Malikai told them goodbye, heading towards his team. He must have not wanted to deal with Allison's dad, who was walking their way. Allison pointed him out in a whisper, before straightening her stance and smiled. "Hi, dad."

"Hey, Allison. Who's this?" Chris Argent questioned. He was attractive for his age, Neviah couldn't lie.

Neviah held out her hand with a polite smile. "Neviah Degrace."

Chris' eyes widened, just subtle to where no one would notice. But Neviah always did. She put it on the back burner, not thinking too much of it as he took her hand and smiled.

"Chris Argent."

"Oh, Dad! Since you've met Neviah, do you think we could have a sleepover?" Allison asked, batting her eyes. She was totally daddy's little girl, and she knew how to use it to her advantage. Maybe, she wasn't as innocent as Neviah first concluded.

"Uh-" Chris started before Neviah cut him off.

"My dad is right there, you two can meet and talk," she suggested, waving her dad over. While she wasn't at the same level as Allison, she did know how to use her dad's feelings to persuade him. "Daddy, this is-"

"Chris Argent," Damian let out, the corners of his lips twitched. Neviah knitted her brows, glancing at Allison. "How have you been?"

Chris smiled politely. "Been better, you?"

"Good."

The daughters locked their eyes; confusion thick in the air surrounding them, it nearly warmed them. "What is this?" they both asked.

"How do you two know each other?" Neviah added, waving her hand to point out the odd connection.

Damian looked at her. His smile was cordial, but not completely fake. There was no fear in his eyes, only hesitation. "Old acquaintances from Washington."

Neviah made an 'O' with her lips. Washington was where her dad's side of the family lived. Family Neviah knew little to none about. She only received cards with money and the occasional gift for birthdays and Christmas. It was probably for the best, too many family members to keep up with. Damian told her stories of family reunions that grew out of hand.

"Well, that makes it perfect." Neviah dipped, staring directly at her dad. She knew he would inevitably agree. He had little reason to disagree. "Can Allison and I have a sleepover?"

"I don't think that'll be best," Chris answered, unaffected by Allison's puppy eyes. "We're still unpacking, Allison."

"There will always be another chance," Damian included, helping the man against the two dramatic teens. He kissed Neviah's forehead. "How 'bout you two go find a seat? We'll join you when the game starts."

They reluctantly agreed, hoping the two would change their mind in their short conversation. Though, it was a big what if. Chris appeared to be the type who rarely changed his mind unless given a solid reason to. As for Damian, Neviah knew her dad's mind hadn't changed since the first day she began to remember. He trusted Neviah enough to only invite people she trusted into their house. It all fell to Chris to decide. Allison pouted as they walked up the bleachers and sat down.

Neviah nudged her. "Don't worry, dads will always do whatever their baby girls want."

"True," Allison murmured with a small smile. Her face lit up. "Oh, I have something to tell you."

The Degrace girl lifted her eyebrows curiously. Allison's smile intrigued her. It was genuine and wide, unbridled happiness.

"I think...I want to make it official with Scott," she let out in one breath, staring at her hands. She looked at Neviah to see her reaction, any sign of repulsion. "What do you think?"

What did she think? Neviah had sexually based relationships, and friendships, but nothing like what Allison and Scott shared. That was more intimate than sex. They didn't need to expose themselves to learn what they wanted the other. It was desire at its purest form. Not lust. It was the blooming flower of first love. Fragile and graceful. It's beautiful but has thorns.

What Neviah thought was that she envied Allison. It wasn't a new emotion for Neviah to feel. Allison got her hands on the rare beginnings of the emotion, even rarer for a guy who felt the same. She was one of the lucky ones. Neviah wanted that for herself. Selfishly, she wished it was something she could control. She wanted to have it for herself without fear it would fade. The not knowing what the other truly thought kept her from it. The revealing all the parts that she hid from everyone, including herself, kept her from it. She didn't believe she was made to be loved. Only appreciated, tolerated even. Never loved.

"I think," Neviah started, as a small, sly smile formed. She wanted to hate Allison for being able to find it. She wanted Allison to give it to Neviah as if it were something tangible to find. "You should do it. You like him, he likes you. Just don't get on Sixteen and Pregnant."

Allison threw her head back with a laugh. Once she calmed down, she nodded, sharing Neviah's smile. "I won't, I promise."

"Good. Because while I'd be an amazing aunt, I'd rather not be one before I get into medicine." Neviah pulled her arm away from Allison, resting both hands on her lap. The lacrosse players slowly bunched together on the benches, talking to each other to cool their nerves. Malikai's leg bounced at an inhuman speed. Chance had never been his favorite thing. The teams were evenly skilled now.

"You want to be in the medical field?" Allison inquired softly.

The gentleness of her voice confused Neviah. Allison seemed...like she cared. That was rare. Neviah didn't know how to handle it. It seemed too good to be true.

Neviah took Allison's light and acted as if it hadn't disturbed her. "If I mail in this internship registration, as soon as I graduate, I'll be in MIT with nursing experience and an associate's degree."

"That's amazing, Nav," Allison exclaimed. The corners of her eyes crinkled. Her pride in Neviah came unannounced and unearned.

"It's going to be four years of hell before I can get into residency."

"I'm RSVPing several years earlier to see your graduation," Allison declared, sitting up straight. "I will be the first person—besides your teachers—to call you Dr. Degrace."

"Who's becoming a doctor?" Lydia asked as she maneuvered up the stairs, after speaking to Scott. Her eyes lingered on the lack of space between Neviah and Allison for a moment.

Allison opened her mouth to say Neviah, but Neviah spoke first. "No one, but if this game takes any longer it'll feel like I've done all the years to become one." She ignored Allison's look of confusion.

Lydia hummed. She carried a white sign with writing on both sides. Neviah couldn't read what they said but saw "Jac" and assumed it was for Jackson. She turned it, revealing one side that said, "We Luv You Jackson."

"I'm not holding that," Neviah said, grimacing at it.

There was a difference in how Lydia and Jackson portrayed love compared to what Allison and Scott showed. Lydia had boyfriends before, but none lasted, and none went as far as Jackson. Their relationship was Neviah's first view of love. And it always made her sick. It was the type of love that reminded her of goo. Sticky and slimy, easy to spot, and hard to get rid of. No matter how many times she had to comfort Lydia after a brutal verbal fight, Lydia still returned like a dog. She knew nothing better than Jackson. Neither had Neviah, but she hoped here had to be something like what Allison had with Scott. If not for herself, then at least for Lydia. She deserved that much.

Lydia rolled her eyes with a shake of her head. "Luckily, Allison will be helping me hold it."

Allison's face contorted in confusion but quickly agreed. "Uh, yeah, sure."

Allison adjusted to Lydia's pressuring behavior well. She let Lydia act and speak bluntly. She seemed to enjoy the power Lydia had. But she wasn't the rest of Lydia's pets. She fought back when she needed to. She wasn't afraid of Lydia, which Neviah admired. She hadn't met anyone who didn't let Lydia walk over them—of course, no one other than herself.

The three talked until the game started. A whistle blew and all of the players rushed to their respective spots. Once they were ready, the whistle blew once more, and they began.

Neviah leaned forward as her dad and Chris joined them. The players weren't passing the ball to Scott. At first, she thought she was seeing things, but then one player looked at Scott, seeing him open, and tossed it to a player dealing with a Mystic High player. Jackson even shoved Scott to the ground to get the ball.

Regardless, they won that round.

Lydia and Allison cheered, while those who noticed Scott silently clapped. Neviah didn't bother cheering. Her dad noticed and elbowed her with a slight nod. Be polite, he said without moving his mouth. She sucked her teeth, weakly clapping once. Damian chuckled, tilting a bag of Skittles towards her. She accepted.

Then the sign went up.

Scott stared at it in shock, Stiles took a double take, and Harley, well, she let out one big 'ha.' Her dad scolded her for it, before she explained why she laughed. He copied her laugh. Neviah smirked, realizing that a little sign made in a few hours brewed jealousy in Scott.

When the next round started. Then the next, then the next, and the next until it was three to five. Scott looked pissed. The emotion radiated from him. He seemed to be breathing heavier as thick clouds of air came from his helmet.

"Which one is Scott, again?" Chris asked.

"Number eleven," Lydia answered, not taking her eyes from Scott.

"Also known as the only one who hasn't caught the ball the entire game," Neviah added, earning an elbow to the arm from her dad. "It's true," she muttered with a frown.

Allison rocked herself anxiously. Malikai's words were surely getting to her now. Not that it would have changed anything regarding the team. They didn't trust Scott—more specifically, Jackson didn't trust Scott. "I hope he's okay."

"He's fine," Damian reassured, crumbling his second bag of Skittles into his pocket with the first. "Malikai will pass him the ball."

"How are you so sure?" Neviah inquired. Seeing as Mal hadn't done it yet, she highly doubted he would attempt it now.

He half-smiled. "I just do."

"We need to win this," Lydia states, grabbing the sign. Only this time, it flipped. "Allison. Little help here."

Allison hesitated, caring less about Jackson and more about Scott. Still, she cooperated. This sign said, "Jackson is #1." Cheesy and disgusting.

That sign seemed to impact Scott more than Jackson. The ball flew up after Malikai and another player faced off over it. Scott stepped onto the shoulder of a player to catch it. Neviah's eyes widened.

Scott dodged every player that ran towards him with ease. He didn't bother passing the ball to his teammates and tossed it into the net.

Neviah clapped with a proud grin.

Then again, Scott used his newfound energy. Only this time, the opposite team passed him the ball. Malikai cleared the way for him. And Scott scored the shot.

"Oh my, god," she let out, clapping louder. She even smiled at Melissa as the mother cheered for her son loudly.

When the next round started, Jackson aggressively tossed the ball to Malikai, hiding a message in his throw. The opposing team was already scared of the half-Chinese boy, so they backed away, giving him enough room to pass it to Scott. Damian gave Neviah a knowing look. She scowled.

However, they also were scared of Scott. It made no sense. He had speed and agility, but he lacked roughness. He was placed on attack for those very reasons. He knew how to read the opposing defenses and slip through, not how to compete against it.

Just as the timer lowered to five seconds, Scott chucked the ball, winning the game. Everyone ran onto the field, cheering their heads off. Neviah knitted her eyebrows. Scott's behavior was abnormal. She knew that from the moment he survived the first practice. But then, he handled it as he handled everything, like a skittish, awkward teenage boy. How does he shift from that into an aggressive shooter?

"Told you he'd do it," Damian said, smirking as he helped Neviah down the bleachers.

She shook her head, not accepting her loss to the hidden bet. "After two rounds he did it."

"Still did it."

Neviah laughed. She looked around to find Allison, only to see her figure walking towards the guys' locker room. She bit back a big smile, knowing Allison was going to take the first step into initiating her relationship with Scott. She was proud of her friend. A sting of envy struck her, but her pride remained. Whatever Scott was doing, it was working for him. Neviah only hoped it didn't bite him in the ass.

Neviah hung back with her dad, Harley, Stiles, and Noah Stilinski. Harley's dad and stepfamily went to talk to Malikai and Kory Alexander, most likely to gush about the boy's actions on the field. David was a big lacrosse player when he was younger, but lacrosse wasn't as big in Beacon back then as it was now. Liam seemed to be leading the conversation enthusiastically.

Harley nodded at Neviah, who nodded back. They found themselves in a gray, murky area. Childish hatred subsided with Harlet's attempt to bring Neviah up to date. But nothing more than that. They weren't friends again. They just no longer needed to despise each other—for reasons that slipped from Neviah's mind. The end of their friendship wasn't mutual, but she did it as clean cut as she could. She cared for Harley—some part of her hated Harley for not hating her enough. Noah's phone went off, and his eyes went to Damian when he saw the caller. He answered.

Since it was none of Neviah's business, she pulled out her phone and texted Stiles. Even if she was slightly peeved with him for targeting Derek, feelings had no placement in their no-string-attached deal. She was the one who urged that to be known.

ur place later?

Stiles pulled out his phone after feeling it buzz. His eyebrows furrowed before his face lit pink. He bit his lip as he typed.

yeah

His excitement was quickly shut down before it could even begin. Noah made a worried expression. "Dad, what's wrong?"

Noah pointed a finger up.

The two girls migrated to the bench where Stiles sat, watching Noah talk on the phone as Damian waited. Stiles appeared slightly confused and worried as Neviah and Harley sat down without saying a word to him or each other. Neviah felt like a child again. Back when she was the only tie between Scott, Stiles, and Harley. Back when Harley confused crushes with wanting to be friends with someone. Back when things were better.

Noah got off the phone and whispered something to Damian. Her dad's face dropped, making her stomach twist. It seemed to be work-related, but Neviah had a nagging feeling to was something bigger. Harley glanced at Neviah, but the girl kept her eyes on her dad.

"Malikai, can you take Neviah home?" Damian asked the boy as he came back with his things. He hadn't changed, sweat still in beads on his face. He nodded without a question. He reached for Neviah. "Harley, why don't you go with them?"

That sparked further confusion.

"Dad, what's wrong?" Neviah asked, standing up. She slid passed Malikai's open hand. Stiles and Harley followed.

Malikai flickered between the father and daughter. He reached out for the younger one. "We should just go."

"Something happened?" she questioned, stepping away from Mal's hand.

Damian shook his head. "Neviah, just please, go."

"No," she argued. Her abdomen felt heavy, like something was lying on it despite her standing up. It would only get worse if she listened and left. She'd suffocate under the weight. "What happened?" Words formed on her tongue and stumbled out before she realized. "Is Derek okay?"

Damian looked down, wiping his salt-and-pepper beard.

His no response made her stomach drop. She looked to Noah, who sighed in defeat at her gaze. "Derek's fine. He got released."

"What?" Stiles let out as Neviah sighed in relief. She narrowed her eyes at Stiles. He ignored her. "Why?"

Noah shifted, inhaling deeply. "The medical examiner identified the body."

The air went still.

"Who...who is it?" Harley asked, scared to know the answer.

This time, Damian spoke. "Laura. The body is Laura Hale."

Neviah wished she listened for once.

༻❁༺

The fire may have gone out six years ago, but it still burned. In Neviah, In Harley, In Malikai, in Derek, and once burned in Laura Hale. And today, they allowed her to rest from the everlasting flames.

Supposed to.

Neviah couldn't get out of Malikai's car. She tried to open the door, but it was like smoke still lingered. It rushed into her system, filling her lungs until they were too heavy for her to move. The chains of guilt kept her planted in one place.

She watched as they reburied Laura's body in the cemetery. The Beacon Hills police watched over them to keep citizens who believed Derek had killed the girl, away. Neviah was there, able to breathe but it was like she was watching from someone else's eyes. She stood with everyone, but it didn't feel real. It didn't feel right. Then, as they drove to the Hale house as a final goodbye, Neviah froze.

Stiles was right. She was present, but not really. She felt alive, but not really. She was just a ghost living in a shell, calling for help in the void with no one to hear her.

Neviah twisted her ring, staring blankly ahead. She wanted to scream but forced herself to stay silent. To be nothing but a gentle breeze in the North as a storm raged in the South.

Who would kill Laura? It rang in her mind ceaselessly. Neviah remembered fragments of the woman. She was finishing her senior year, admitted into UCLA; she had a future before the fire took place. Neviah remembered her brilliant mind. She had an interest in immunology. She must have explained it seven thousand times to Neviah and her friends before they understood it. Then with the death of her family, her dreams seemed like a fever dream. Laura never graduated High School. Neviah assumed Derek hadn't either. They left one night with a letter for Damian to prevent a search party.

They never called or sent a postcard. They fell off the face of the Earth. They sent money to keep their Uncle Peter's care going. He became comatose after the fire. Not even for him did they come back. They had no reason to come back, they ensured that when they left.

Why did they? Why did Laura come back? Did Derek come with her, or simply follow her? Why didn't they say anything?

Someone knocked on the window. Harley, dressed in a black dress and her hair in an afro. Her arms encased herself. She hadn't spoken to anyone that morning. None of them had a reason to disturb the still air with their voices. Neviah raised a brow at her. She pointed down for Neviah to roll down the window. Neviah did.

"Come out."

"No."

Harley narrowed her eyes as she leaned into the window, her finger inching to the inner handle. "I will drag you out."

She wasn't lying.

"Fine."

Neviah huffed, rolling the window back up. She took a second to collect herself before opening the door. It all swarmed her again. She ignored it as she always did. Her heels dug into the ground.

"You seriously wore those thin ass heels to a funeral?" Harley spoke, hugging herself. The bitter weather reflected their emotions.

"Shut up," Neviah let out, crossing her arms. Her skin crawled as they walked near the house. She swore the screams still called out to her. The wind carried them, whistling her name in a plea. They didn't go near it, they actually went away from it, towards the creak.

"Where are we going?" Neviah asked, despite knowing exactly where they were going. The trail may have been grown over by flora and fauna, but faint memories guided her.

Harley sighed with a melancholy smile. She raised her arms as the wind blew, submitting herself to nature. She admired nature for all its glory and agony, like the way Neviah often delved into fashion. Beautiful in the long run, painful for her feet in the short run. It's how Harley's nickname Pixie began. A pixie who knew the obscure world of the forest. "Are you still planning on leaving Beacon when you graduate?"

"Uh, yes," Neviah answered as if it was obvious. She tugged her knitted, black cardigan around her. "This town is hell."

Harley looked back with an impassive expression. "Would you ever come back?"

Neviah didn't answer as quickly as before. She didn't know the answer. She wanted to say no, but there were things in the town that she could only get in Beacon. Like Ray's, it was the best diner ever and she would never want to be away from it. Her dad would most likely stay here and assist Noah at the station.

"Why does it matter?" Neviah inquired. The forgotten pathway appeared smaller than she remembered. The trees were curved above like a canopy when she was younger. They used to be incredibly tall in her young eyes.

Harley shrugged, facing away. "Just wondering."

Silence settled for a moment. Harley glanced back to Neviah occasionally as the sound of water running gradually became louder. Neviah understood why Harley befriended Stiles after their falling out. Neither of them could let anything unfinished rest.

"You want to ask me another question, don't you?"

Harley stepped into a clearing. There was a clear sight of the creak and a large tree with a hole in its trunk. When the girls were even younger, they could both fit. Rocks were placed around that tree in a circle as protection. This was their spot. Further down was the spot where Lilith forced Neviah to play chess with her. Further up and right of the creak, was where Cora...If memories of Laura were faint, for some reason, memories of Cora were nearly nonexistent.

"What happened?"

She didn't need to add context to her question for Neviah to understand. Harley took her to that spot for a reason. She wanted the truth, for Neviah to be honest with her. She tried to be when they were younger.

"I don't think we can be friends anymore. I feel like I have to be just because they're gone."

She couldn't. Too heavy of a truth, her mouth couldn't let it surface. Back then, she didn't understand her emotions. How does a child understand survivor's guilt? The singe in their heart, or the voice in brain that reminded them, "It should have been you." How does a child explain to another that whenever she was around her, the voices grew louder? She began to see their scorched faces looming over her after her twelfth birthday.

"I grew up. Had to," Neviah explained, watching dried boat leaves float down the creak, brushing passed rocks and stones. She started therapy and medications right before the new year. Harley didn't need that. She found a way to cope. She wasn't haunted by guilt. "That's life."

Harley grabbed a rock and chucked it into the water. Ripples disturbed the flow for a moment, but the water continued. "Bull-shit."

Neviah shrugged, insisting it was true. "If you don't believe that, then it's on you."

Harley didn't speak after that. Her jaw clenched and unclenched each time Neviah's eyes flickered at her. The two wandered on one side of the creak, not daring to go across. It was haunting; the idea of crossing over, just a pair instead of a quartet, was terrifying.

A year after the fire, Harley and Neviah met up there. The summer weather lightly trudged in Beacon Hills, the air was gentle, and the sun beat down. The water barely ran in the creak due to the lack of rain and the burning sun. Neviah remembered the area as dull and lifeless as the two girls. They met on different sides of the creak. Neviah lived on the farther side in the South, while Harley lived on the side they stood on now, in the East. Lilith's quiet home resided towards the West, while the burned Hale home resided in the North. Each had a corner of Beacon Hills.

That day was the last day they met there. Neviah gave it to her as gently as she could, learning from Stiles how to properly tell someone they couldn't be friends anymore. She ended it with a promise to confide in Harley if things got too bad. She never had the guts to hold her end of the promise.

Neviah exhaled, watching her bitter lies become visible and then invisible. Her eyes stung as she kept them open to observe dreary woods. Branches bare and crooked, a servant to the wind. Leaves drifted like hopeless lovers.

And it only went downhill from there.

༻❁༺

sorry for the lack of updates, totally didn't go through a "I hate this fic and everything surrounding it" moment. 100% not a lie.

I didn't really pre-read this so if there's mistakes, tell me.

anyway, I hope you guys like this chapter. tell me your thoughts, theories, or just random stuff.

also, I love allison and neviah's friendship so much. (if you saw that one tiktok edit, hm, no you didn't)

Edited: 11/13/2024