** COMPLETED **
It's been years since the fire that killed most of her family, but Amara Hale has been able to move on as much as she can. But it seems like the past always has to come back at some point. Some times the past can come back slowly...
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Saturday -
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Chapter Two 🐺 Second Chance At First Line 🐺
Amara sat at the top of the bleachers with her arms crossed and a bored expression on her face. She wanted to go home but she has to make sure her best friend doesn't lose control during lacrosse practice.
Scott, gazing off with far too many thoughts swirling in his head, doesn't notice the other players backing up behind him. "McCall, let's go!" Coach yelled making Scott pay attention, realizing he's at the head of the line. Coach tosses the ball. Scott goes for the shot. But Jackson comes at him with a volley of slap checks, "Still want to be first line, McCall?"
Gritting his teeth in anger, Scott looks up to reveal his brown eyes are rapidly brightening to yellow. Amara cautiously stood up as she can hear Scott's heavy breath and rapid heart beat while Coach walked over to Scott. "McCall, my grandmother can move faster than that and she's dead! Can you move faster than the lifeless corpse of my dead grandmother, McCall?"
"Yes, Coach." Scott said lowly and Coach raised his eyebrows, "I can't hear you." He said. "Yes, Coach!" Scott said louder, "Then do it again!" Coach said and Scott went back to the start of the line. Stiles looked at him worriedly before looking over at the bleachers at Amara who was watching Scott, waiting for something to happen. The whistle blows and Scott shoots forward again as Coach tosses the ball to him.
An oblivious Jackson goes for a cross check, heading for Scott with his stick horizontal even as the smaller boy hurtles toward him with ferocious speed. They collide like two goats locking horns. Both go down, Jackson yelling as he hits the ground. The sickening sound of bone dislodging from socket sends a cringe through Coach. While everyone else runs over to check on Jackson, Stiles hurries to Scott's side.
"Are you okay?" Stiles asks but Scott won't lift his head, won't reveal his face to Stiles underneath the helmet. "Scott?" His head tilts up to reveal the sharpened teeth jutting out from his lower jaw. "It's happening. I can't control it. It's happening."
