The police are in my room.

Lydia Martin is also in my room.

I have just woken up from a fulfilling nap to the sheriff, a deputy and a detective scouring my room for anything suspicious and talking to my mom. Lydia is trying to explain to the deputy what happened with larger than life hand gestures.

I groan to signal my presence. "Mom!" I say. "Why is there a police squad in my room?"

She raises her eyebrows. "You came home with injuries all over you and then talked about a supernatural creature attacking you!" She throws her hands up in the air. "How could I not call the police?"

Lydia speaks up with her poised, distinguished voice. "Sheriff, can I talk to you outside?"

He sighs and then nods. "Parrish, you can perform the basic tests for me?"

Parrish nods obediently and gets to work as soon as the sheriff leaves. He asks me questions like if I remember last night, what happened last night and where I was last night. I respond truthfully to all of them.

He pulls out a cotton swab and swipes the inside of my mouth. He asks me if I've done any drugs and I tell him about that one time when I tried a cigarette and choked on the smoke. He looks like he's trying to keep a smile in. He gives me a breathalyser test and I pass with zero alcohol consumption.

The sheriff reenters the room as my alcohol level is displayed on the screen. "We're going to need to conduct a proper investigation at the station. We're going to need you and Lydia to come to the station so we can figure out what the hell is going on."

"Look, sheriff, I'd love to help with the investigation today, but I simply can't. The Game of Thrones season finale is on tonight. I need to find out what happens."

My mom buries her face in her hands with embarrassment and the young deputy cracks a smile. The sheriff kneels down next to my bed. "We'll get you back in time for the last ten minutes. Promise."

Lydia and I are in the back seat with the deputy. The deputy and Lydia are almost sitting on top of each other, which leads me to believe that there may be something more than friendship going on there.

The station is a dull, small place, clad in drab shades of cream and brown. I trudge into one of the offices with Lydia and sit opposite Deputy Parrish, who is in charge of the investigation. Parrish asks me the same questions as before, and I answer the same.

"Can you describe the person who attacked you?" he asks, raising an eyebrow.

I bite my lip, trying to picture the creature in my mind again. I take a deep breath before starting. "He was tall-taller than a human being. He had this thick liquid all over him that smelled horrible. He had fangs and claws like Scott and Theo, but his claws...they glowed."

The deputy's composure falls and he shows a sign of recognition. His expression only reveals itself for a second, but it's long enough to see that he knows what I'm talking about and that he has encountered it before.

"You can go now," he says quickly. I look at him sceptically before I stand up and walk out.

The station is a buzz of commotion outside. Voices come from all sides, each blending into one continuous hum of activity. Lydia leads me through the thick sea of desks and people to Stiles and Scott, who are standing next to Sheriff Stilinski.

"What's going on?" I ask. My eyes dart side to side as I try to soak in the full scene.

A boy is being dragged through the station, struggling against the police holding him back.

"I'm going to kill you, Stilinski! I'm going to kill you!" he screams. His eyes are wide and filled with lunacy.

"Is he like you?" I whisper to Scott.

He shakes his head. "I can't smell any supernatural on him."

I furrow my eyebrows with worry as the boy almost escapes the clutches of the officers. He's riled up from something Stiles said while I was talking to Scott. "Take him out!" the sheriff yells. The boy struggles some more, until he's taken past a door and back into his cell.

"You shouldn't have done that," Stiles' dad says in the typical condescending dad way.

Stiles throws his hands in the air. "Did you hear that guy? He was threatening to kill you, dad. I wasn't going to sit by and just watch that!"

"I'm going to be okay, son." The sheriff clamps his hand down on his son's shoulder.

Stiles drops his eyes and exhales. It's in that moment that all of Stiles' layers have been stripped down. Gone is the laughing class clown that I've come to know at school. Here, is a Stiles full of despair and demons, his worries all laid out bare in his somber expression. "Just... just stay safe, dad," he says.

As fast as his emotions became apparent, they were hidden back under the humour and sarcasm again. "So, who's up for some pizza?"

"But Game of Thrones..." I whinge.

Lydia rolled her eyes. "You haven't eaten all day, Arden. It isn't a question."

I moan in annoyance. "Fine," I say. "I guess pizza does sound pretty good right now."

The pizza place is a quaint pizza restaurant with booths that resemble those of the 1950s. It smells of pizza and a faint undertone scent of cigarettes. The place is mostly otherwise empty, save for a family with young children in the far corner of the place.

A pang of jealousy hits me suddenly. Such a happy family, when mine was a stark contrast. As soon as I could understand, I knew my dad was gone and left behind a broken family. It was my mom and I who learnt to rely on each other and stick together in the good times and the bad. It always felt sort of empty in our house, but I could tell this family spent noisy nights together full of boisterous playing around and running amok.

"What do you want to order?" Stiles jolts me from my reverie.

"Uh...meat-lovers is good," I tell him.

"Cool. Uh, can we have a large meat-lovers and large margherita, please," he says.

"I'll pay if you want," I tell him, but he waves me away.

We take our seat at the front of the store. Stiles jumps right into conversation, using insanely expressive hand gestures to detail his hesitance towards Theo. "That guy is just off. You don't disappear in fourth grade and just coincidentally decide to come back once you hear about someone from your grade becoming a true alpha."

I cut in. "A true alpha?"

"An alpha that gains his power without killing to get it," Stiles says impatiently. The way he says it makes them sound incredibly rare, giving me the impression that Scott is one of the few-or the only-alive in the world.

"Calm down, Stiles," Lydia tells him. He pinches the bridge of his nose with his thumb and index index finger.

"Stiles," Scott says. "Sometimes we just need trust people until they prove otherwise."

"Can you believe this?" Stiles shrieks. "I can't believe this. Arden, you were there; tell the others how truly sinister Theo is."

Everyone's eyes lock on me. I think carefully about how to word my next sentence. "I don't know. I suppose he seemed nice. He seemed genuine, as well."

Stiles is more riled up than ever now. "Oh, please. Don't pretend you were not just focusing on his stupid little smirk and his biceps through his shirt."

"Not gonna lie." I hold my hands up guiltily. "He was hot. And by hot I mean I would erect a statue of him in my backyard if it was socially acceptable."

Stiles scoffs. "Oh, I'm sure you'd want to erect much more of him than just a statue."

I narrow my eyes at him. "You little-"

"Pizza's here!" Scott cuts in. He thanks the waiter as the steaming hot pizzas are placed on the table. I almost salivate at the smell as it hits my nostrils. Stiles lets out a long moan and I tell the little bitch to shut up and that there's a young family a few booths away from us.

I have barely finished my second slice when Scott wolfs - pun intended - down the last slice of pizza.

"Who ate all the pizza?" Lydia asks, looking back and forth towards the boys.

Both of them look as guilty as each other. They point at each other accusingly. I sigh. "Just go get the bill."