It's three twenty and Theo is a no-show. I decide he would've showed up by now, since he usually is on time for everything.

My car is currently being used by my mom, since hers has something wrong with it that I don't understand. I need to walk all the way to the bus stop. I check the time, and coming up with the conclusion that he won't come, I start walking towards the bleachers.

I hear the footsteps coming up behind me too late. The claws clasp onto my throat. My phone clatters out of my hand and onto the concrete, and I hear a crack. I can feel my attacker's breath down my neck as they hold me against them.

My breathing is heavy and strained. "What do you want?" I say between breaths. I can feel my heart beating so hard that it feels like it's coming out of my ears.

Theo spins me around to face him. "Rule one. Always be ready."

What did I get myself into? I can hardly go up stairs without losing my breath, let alone fight off would-be attackers. I put my face in my hands and groan. I glare at him and then down at the ground. "That over there is a thousand dollars," I tell him. "You're paying for repairs."

He raises his eyebrows. "I'll tell you what, as soon as you beat me at sparring, I'll buy you a new one," he says smugly.

"Sure," I tell him. It can't be that hard, can it?

"Deal," he says. "Can you help me get the stuff out of my pickup?" I pick up my phone and follow him.

He parked his truck strategically hidden behind the bleachers, which is probably why I didn't see it pull in. "Where's your car, by the way?" he asks on the way. I tell him the story of how my mom's car is broken and she has to use mine.

His truck is an electric blue Toyota that looks nearly brand new. He has a gym bag in the passenger's seat that seems to weigh even more than me. I thought he would want me to carry something but he carries it by himself and says that we'll do weight training later on. I snicker as I imagine myself with those too-big bodybuilder muscles.

He sets the stuff down in the middle of the field. "To start off, I want you to do ten laps around the field."

I put my hands on my knees and lean over, looking at him. "Ten? I can barely run two."

He looks up from what he's doing. Standing up, he's a head taller than me. "Okay, so say I was some out-of-control werewolf on his first full moon that wants to kill you. You're going to need to be able to run. And fast."

I sigh. "Fine." I take off and by the third lap, my lungs are burning and my legs are shaking. But I keep going. I need a drink of water. Bad. I keep running. I think I'm on my fifth lap, now. My cheeks are on fire and sweat seems to drip from every pore. I can't do it. I need to walk a lap. I slow down to a fast walk, keeping my hands on my head.

Theo looks up from what he's doing and frowns at me. He cups his hands around his mouth. "Why did you stop? Keep going!"

Fuck that. I give him the finger and walk up until I reach to half of my sixth lap. I take off again, pacing myself to keep going longer. My calves are burning and the heels of my feet ache.

Seventh lap. I push through the pain and sweat. I'm worried I ate too much before this, because my stomach feels like it's preparing to heave up my lunch.

Eighth lap. Theo is sitting on the bleachers, feet up and on his phone. He looks over occasionally to make sure I'm doing what I'm supposed to.

Ninth lap. I already want to give up on these lessons. It seems like Theo is using this as another excuse to be an asshole to me.

Tenth. Just a few more metres. I keep my eyes fixed on the end. My long hair is matted to my back with sweat. My whole body is shaking and burning. I can't do it. I can't do it, I think. But just as soon as my legs feel like they're going to snap in half, I pass the tenth lap and I drop onto my ass on the grass.

"Water?" I ask Theo as he comes to me. My chest rises and falls rapidly. He tosses me a bottle and I gulp it down before realising it isn't refreshing enough to just drink it, and pour it over my face like one of those really attractive soccer players. "Are we done with all that work out stuff?" I ask.

He laughs and shakes his head. "We'll take a break, though," he says, and sits down beside me.

"Jesus, that was hard," I sigh. "Going from not being able to move to doing ten laps of a lacrosse field in a matter of hours. Crazy."

"What's even crazier is that you're going to be doing more. Come on," he says and pulls me up. "I'm going to tell you to do a work out and when I blow the whistle you're going to change to what I say next. Ready?" I nod. "Push-ups!" Damn, he's not cutting any corners here. I get on the ground and do them until he blows the whistle again. "Sit ups!" He continues this process until I've finally had enough and tell him I want to move on to the real stuff.

He raises his eyebrows. "If that's what you want," he says. "Okay, stand with your feet a good with apart." I do what he says until I'm in the correct position.

"Punch me," he says bluntly after I've achieved the correct stance.

"What?" I ask. I look at him, confused.

"Punch me," he repeats. "I want to see if you know how."

"Alright, then," I say. "But you're going to regret this." I roll my neck and flex my shoulders. "Ready?" I ask.

He nods.

I throw a punch right into his gut. My fist slams into something hard. "Fuck," I blast out, biting my lip and groaning. His stomach has more muscle than my whole body. I cradle my fist in my other hand.

"You're not hitting right," he says. He comes up behind me and rearranges where my feet go and where my arms extend. "You need to hit with your whole body, use all your muscles to power that one hit," he says. He grips my shoulder and pulls it back a little, so I'm standing almost diagonally. He pulls my elbow back. "Now hit me," he says.

I take a deep breath and think about his advice. Hit with your whole body. I draw back my arm and shoot my fist forward with all my power, exercising the power in my legs as well as in my shoulders. My fist connects with his stomach again, and even though my hands hurt as much as before, Theo seems to be in more pain.

He makes a choking sound and clutches at his abdomen. "That was a good one," he says between breaths that sound like they're laboured. He holds out his hand palm up and I slap it. He gives me a thumbs up.

I practise hitting some more on padding that Theo wears on his hands. After he's satisfied that I can hit decently, he says, "Now you've got attacking skills under your belt, we'll start on defending."

He stands a few metres away. "Ready?" he asks. I nod. He charges at me and has me pressed up against him in a few seconds. Any confidence I had in fighting is now diminished. His hand is around my throat and I can feel his breath brush my ears as he whispers, "What are you going to do?"

I try to ignore the feeling of his body against mine as I think. "You haven't got forever," he breathes slowly in my ear.

And then he releases me.

"You'd be dead by now if this was real," he says bluntly. I rub at my neck, hoping to gain some sympathy. No such luck. "Let's try another one. You come at me this time."

I shake my limbs, trying to psych myself up for my attack. I take off at him and pull my elbow back, aiming to hit him right in the face. This is a bit of an ambitious feat, since I'm at a height disadvantage. He catches my arm in midair and tugs it down and behind my back, pushing me to the ground.

His knee is on my back and the pain is excruciating. My face is consumed by grass and dirt. He leans down. "Not fast enough," he says in my ear. He lets me go.

I flip onto my back. "That was unfair," I say.

"I don't think a six foot Minotaur is going to care if you are shorter than him before smashing you to a pulp," he spits out. He offers me a hand. I grasp it and get back on my feet.

I throw another punch, but he blocks it with his own arm. I aim another one at his shoulder, but his forearm clashes with my own. He's smiling now, an amused grin caused by his advantage. I try giving one to his lower gut, but he catches my arm and pulls me towards him.

I can feel his chest rising and falling against my own. His hand snakes around my waist and finds its place at the small of my back. He's raising his hand, sliding it up my neck. Our faces are centimetres apart and I can feel his breath mingling with my own. My eyes meet his. I slide my hand around his neck. I get on my tiptoes to whisper in his ear.

"What'd you think I was going to do?" I bring my knee up hard between his legs. He gives a deep shriek in pain and doubles over, clutching his balls. I'm laughing so hard that I think I my lungs might burst.

"What was that for?" he chokes out between groans and chuckles. I can't tell if he's angry or amused.

"That little knee thing you did back there," I say. "That hurt."

"Yeah, well, so did this," he says gesturing to his injury, but I'm already hauling the gym bag onto my shoulder and walking to the car.

"Meet you at the truck," I call to him. I smile to myself again.

I throw the stuff onto the floor and wait in the passenger seat with my feet up on the dashboard. A few minutes later, he limps to the car. He seems to have his hand glued to where his package is.

I smile at him as he gets into the car. "Need to go to the hospital?" I ask.

He closes his eyes and exhales loudly. "No, Arden. I don't have to go to the hospital."

He winces as he leans over to put his seatbelt on. My smile fades. "Wait, you're okay, right? I didn't, like, break your balls or anything, did I?"

He grins as he turns on the ignition, his hand still there. "No. I might not be able to have sex ever again, but that's all," he says, his voice dripping in sarcasm.

I look over at him. His eyes are focused on the road ahead. "I think your lack of a sizeable penis would be more of the problem," I say.

If there's one thing that riles up boys to their limit, it's commenting on the size of their package. Theo is no different. "I have a colossal one, thank you very much," he says.

"I'm sure," I say, before dissolving into a fit of laughter. I see him trying to fight a smile off.

We fall into an abyss of silence for a few minutes. I toss up about mentioning something to him, until I finally give into my curiosity and ask. "I've been meaning to mention this for a while," I begin, "but on the night that I got arrested, who were you talking to outside of the phone?"

The truck stops abruptly. "No one," he says.

I laugh dryly. "So you were talking to yourself? With different voices, no less."

A muscle in his jaw feathers. His fingers are drumming on the steering wheel nervously. "Who was it?" I repeat.

"It was nobody!" he bellows. "It was nothing!"

I put a hand gingerly on his forearm. "You can tell me the truth, you know," I say softly.

He groans and slams his fist on the wheel. "So you can tell Stiles and Scott all about it, huh?"

I pull my hand away from him and open my mouth to speak but then shut it again. When I finally speak, my voice is loud and full of anger. "I do everything for you. I stand up for you in front of Stiles, I haven't texted Brett back because of you and I trust you with everything, but you won't trust me? I can't believe it."

"You know you can be really difficult sometimes," he says, "always wanting to know what's happening. Some things you don't need to know."

"Well I can't just assume everything's alright when I know what I heard," I say.

He looks at me dead in the eyes. "Get out," he says. I'm at a loss of words. I freeze. "I told you to get out."

My mouth is slightly open in surprise as I unbuckle my seatbelt and push open the door, the fresh air spilling into the truck. I slam the door behind me with as much force as possible.

I walk the rest of the way home.

I get straight into the shower as soon as I get home. The water is scalding, but I like it. It makes me feel clean. I stay in there until I'm sure I've scrubbed off the dirt and sweat from today, but most of all the feeling of Theo up against me.

I step out of the shower and wrap myself up in my towel. I need something to keep my mind off of it. I take my phone off my dresser and fall back onto my bed, scrolling through my messages.

"Did u get home alright last night?" From Brett - 11:36 am.

I text back saying that I did get home safely and it's very thoughtful of him to ask.

I go down to my next unread message which is from Liam.

"Is there any chance u could get me and Mason into Sinema. It's for Mason. Sorry for the bother." From Liam - 4:57 pm.

Never would I have thought before tonight that I would be sneaking in a fifteen year old werewolf and his friend into a gay club, but somehow I find myself in line in front of Sinema with the two awkward boys trailing behind me.

I lean over to Liam. "Could you please try and look a little more older?" I say to him.

"How do I look older?" he asks. I roll my eyes. I'm wearing very tall heels and can finally look down at him.

"You just do," I tell him.

We get to the front of the line. "Admission for three?" I nudge my head at the two young boys behind me. The guy stares at them too closely and too long for it to mean he's going to let them in. "Um, excuse me?" I ask the guy. "I've got the money."

I slide a pair of hundreds across the stand. The man lays his eyes on the hundreds and stashes them in his pocket. The bouncer opens the velour ropes and I enter with Mason and Liam.

This place is absolutely crazy, I think as I walk under the beaded curtains. The place smells of sweat and vodka and the stench seems to swallow me whole as I walk through the hoards of dancing people.

Men dance in cages on poles and waiters walk around balancing unusual coloured drinks on their arms. The club-goers are so engrossed in their bumping and grinding that most don't notice I'm there until they accidentally bump into me.

Liam is close behind me, but Mason seems to be nowhere in sight. "You want a drink?" I ask him.

"Sure," he tells me. I buy myself a whiskey and Liam a more muted alcoholic drink that probably won't get him in any trouble.

"This is so awkward," he mutters as I take a swig from my drink.

"I know," I say. My words are beginning to become slurred.

I swing my chair around and look around at all the people enjoying themselves and look down at the whiskey miserably.

I swing back around to face Liam. He's craning his neck and smiling awkwardly which can only mean one thing: he's trying desperately to cover something.

"Liam," I say. "Move your head." I have to give him credit. He doesn't move an inch. "You're going to be okay, right?" He looks a bit confused, but then understands as I get up and start moving around him. Then I see what he was trying to hide.

Brett is dancing with another guy. Their bodies are so close together that they seem to be a wild tangle of arms and legs. Liam says to me over my shoulder, "Please don't be angry that I didn't tell you before. I was worried you'd get angry."

"Why would I get angry?" I ask. I take a seat back down. I order another whiskey.

Liam looks at me like its obvious. "Because he's bisexual."

I sigh as my drink comes. "Liam, he can like whoever he wants to. I'm not angry." I sound like I'm half asleep. The music feels too loud.

Liam wraps a hand around my drink. "Are you sure you should be drinking so much?"

"Liam-" I start.

"Something happened today, didn't it? Something with Theo," he says.

"Stop being so clever," I tell him. "Anyway, yes. Something did happen. I'd prefer not to talk about it."

"What happened?" he asks like he didn't hear the last part of what I just said.

"He thinks he can't tell me things," I say. I sound a lot more sullen than what I want to. I gulp down some more whiskey. At this rate, I'll be vomiting in the girls bathroom by the end of the second hour with no one to hold my hair back.

"Like what?" he asks. Liam's a good listener.

"I think he's hiding something. Like he knows something about the holes out in the forest and Tracy," I say, resting my cheek on my palm. "He told me to get out of his car today. Just get out. In the middle of when he was driving me home."

Liam lays a hand on mine. "Then he doesn't deserve you," he says. "You know what, go to Brett, see what happens. But I'm telling you, Theo doesn't care about anyone but himself. There's something wrong with him."

"Thank you, Liam," I say. "And maybe I will go approach Brett." I stand up and weave through the crowd. I'm unsteady with all the alcohol and my heels don't help, either.

Brett is leaning up against the wall with a blue drink in his hand. He raises his eyebrows as he sees me and pushes himself off the wall. "I didn't think you frequented places like this," he says.

"I'm here for Mason," I tell him, looking down at my shoes.

He takes his other hand out of his pocket and puts it under my chin. He raises my face to his. Conveniently, I decide to lose my balance and almost break my ankle. If it wasn't for Brett, I probably would have ended up sprawled on the ground with alcohol all over me.

Brett catches me before I have the chance to completely embarrass myself. His hand is on my back. "Sorry," I mutter.

"It's okay," he says. He puts his drink down and puts his other arm around me. I follow suit and put my whiskey down. "Did Theo get you home okay?"

My body goes rigid and I can feel my emotions getting the better of me. "Let's not talk about Theo," I tell him. I lean in and kiss him. His body is tense with surprise but then relaxes. His hand slides down my back and down to my ass. My body goes stiff but then loosens up as I get used to his hands travelling all over my body.

He suddenly pulls away. "There's something here," he says quietly. "I can smell it."

My hand is curled up against his chest still. "Where?" I crane my neck to look over the crowd of heads blocking my view.

"There," he says, already heading towards the beaded curtains. He pulls them aside. Mason is kissing a boy. Only it isn't just a boy, because his arms are laced with what I think are stingers that protrude from under his skin.

Brett pulls him by the back of his shirt off of Mason and stands off against him in a blur of spikes and claws. Brett is just narrowly avoiding the stingers that the other boy is throwing at him. It takes a whole lot of courage to go in there and fight but I do. I push the boy's chest down and slam him onto the ground.

My talons come on demand, now and I slash at his chest. I seem to be winning until he regains his strength and throws me off of him and across the room. "Duck," Liam says behind me. I bend my neck down as he leaps over me and at the scorpion-boy.

The silhouettes of Kira, Scott and Lydia pass me. Scott barely has a chance to move before Kira whips out her sword. She seems to be slashing mindlessly, her intent to kill. Not maim or subdue, but kill. She says something in Japanese before slicing it downwards.

Blood appears on the boy's chest, but it's not Kira's doing. Another arrow embeds itself in the boy. I gaze up at the ledge. Almost dreamlike, the masked attackers have metal face masks and long, black cloaks. The middle one holds the crossbow. They still themselves and look down at us - or at least seem to, since I can't see their eyes - as if giving us time to come to terms that they are real and here.

And then they turn and there is no evidence of them being here, save for the arrows poking out of the boy's corpse.