coffee breath | D.H

2.4

sillie sighed in response.

"you're still short one player, coach!" someone shouted.

"shit!" coach mumbled, looking around. "where's stilinski? where's stilinski?! sillie, where's your brother?!"

"he got sick, coach." sillie shrugged. "he's currently throwing up in the bathroom. it must've been something he awfully cooked."

"oh, come on!" he yelled in frustration. he looked around the bleachers, his eyes landing on boyd and erica. "you!" he pointed to boyd. "you! you play lacrosse?"

boyd went to stand up but erica grabbed his arm.

"uh-uh." she shook her head. "derek won't like this."

"yeah, but i will." boyd stood with a smirk, taking off his jacket.

coach cheered. "yeah! oh, ho-ho-ho-ho-ho! we got ourselves a player!"

scott shared a look with sillie, who just shrugged. 

boyd walked down the bleachers, then he got the gear he needed. he stopped when he saw sillie, hesitating before walking over to her. "hi."

she smiled. "hey, boyd."

"um... i know you're probably not happy with me getting the bite, but... i'm sure you know why i did." he nodded. "that's really all, i guess."

"it's not my choice, it was yours. you chose to get it." sillie exhaled. "now go, get ready or whatever. be careful, don't kill anyone."

boyd smiled. "see ya." he jogged off.

≡≡≡

little man
it's not here

me
alright, just get back to the field

sillie winced when boyd knocked down 'the abomination', and hard. he hadn't even moved, only puffed his chest out and the other player went flying back.

people cheered as the ref blew the whistle.

"yeah!"

"woo!" melissa screamed.

"the bigger they are... the bigger. they. are!" coach cackled.

sillie paused. "whatever."

she, scott, and jackson - who had now moved next to scott - looked over at boyd, seeing him taking off his helmet and throwing his fist up with his eyes yellow.

scott rushed over to boyd. "you need to get off the field - your eyes, someone's gonna see you."

a whistle blew.

boyd grunted as he pushed pass scott, harshly bumping shoulders. 

"scott," sillie whispered.

"i know," he muttered, following after boyd. 

"get us on top! get us on top!"

scott snatched the ball from boyd, running toward the goal.

"woo! scott, go!"

"come on, scott!" sillie encouraged.

"go, scott, go!"

go, diego, go!

"shoot it!" sillie shouted.

scott complied, getting the ball in the goal.

everyone clapped and cheered and screamed.

then it stopped when scott was knocked down and his leg cracked.

the ref blew the whistle again and threw up the yellow thingy.