Haunted

Chapter 3: Waltz to Lacrosse

Jackson led Clark into the boys changing room and straight to one of the storage cupboards. "This is all spare gear you can borrow," Jackson told Clark, switching on the light to reveal a disorganised mess of battered helmets and pads, knackered gloves and aged sticks. "If you do make the team, I suggest you get yourself your own gear. This stuff is old."

Clark picked up a lacrosse stick which pole was almost snapped in two, hanging loosely, "You think?"

"Here, I'll find you the best stuff," Jackson moved past him into the cupboard which, when inhabited by two teenagers and a whole load of lacrosse gear, did not leave much room to move around. Clark wasn't normally one to feel claustrophobic but the minimal room had left him feeling restricted and trapped. He quickly backed out of the door, waiting for Jackson outside the cupboard.

Jackson began thrusting different items of gear out of the cupboard and into Clark's arms. Until that moment, Clark had never realised how much gear was needed to play Lacrosse.

"Hey Clark!" Clark turned his head to his right to see Stiles had entered the changing room with Scott. "Are you trying out for the team?"

"Err, yep!" Clark confirmed as a second elbow pad came flying out of the cupboard in his direction. Somehow, Clark managed to catch it without dropping the mass of gear he already had in his hands. "Are you two trying out as well?" Clark asked, his gaze landing on Scott with some concern. If Scott had been bitten like Derek thought then playing Lacrosse would be a sure way for the new werewolf to expose their world to everyone.

"Actually, we're already on the team," Stiles informed him.

"Hardly," Jackson scoffed as he re-emerged from the cupboard, carrying a helmet in his hand, "They're the benchwarmers."

"Not for much longer," Scott insisted, sounding confident and that worried Clark.

"Come on," Jackson said to Clark, already heading towards another area of the room, "We need to check all that stuff fits."

"I'll see you guys out there," Clark told Scott and Stiles, determined to maintain a friendly nature between them even if Jackson didn't appear to do the same. If Scott really had been bitten, Clark was sure he would have to spend a lot of time with him in the future to ensure he kept control.

--TW:H--

There was somewhat of a trek from the changing rooms to the Lacrosse field that Clark had not been expecting. He would have thought they'd be located close to each other but had been proven wrong.

Once they reached the field, Jackson led him over to a man who was stood to the side of the field, whistle in hand as he oversaw the warmups of the students who had already arrived. "Coach, this is Clark Hale," Jackson introduced.

Coach turned to him, studying him in a way that made Clark feel awkward in the silence. "Did you play Lacrosse at your old school?" Coach asked.

"No. I played Basketball," Clark answered. Derek had talked him into it, talking about how he needed to take part in some normal activities and how he'd enjoyed playing the sport at his age.

Coach laughed at that and Clark wasn't sure what he found so funny, "Basketball, right. Have you ever played Lacrosse?"

"Not exactly," Clark admitted.

"So you think you can waltz from a basketball team right into my Lacrosse team without any experience in the game?" Coach questioned, obviously amused.

It sounded ridiculous when put like that. Clark's previous uncertainty regarding his ability to play Lacrosse was gone, replaced by a determined confidence to prove the man laughing at him completely wrong. "Yeah. How hard can it be?" Clark responded arrogantly.