Gracie Hale, the youngest Hale
child, just wanted to finish her
sophomore year in peace. But
that all changes when Scott
McCall becomes a werewolf.
Disclaimer: Be aware of mature
language and violence.
( 𝘵𝘦𝘦𝘯 𝘸𝘰𝘭𝘧: 𝘴𝘦𝘢𝘴𝘰𝘯 𝘰𝘯𝘦...
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˗ˏˋ⋆ H E A V E N L Y ⋆ˎˊ˗ ↳ 𝒊𝒊. 𝒕𝒉𝒆 𝒇𝒊𝒓𝒔𝒕 𝒅𝒂𝒚 𝒐𝒇 𝒋𝒖𝒏𝒊𝒐𝒓 𝒚𝒆𝒂𝒓 𝘵𝘦𝘦𝘯 𝘸𝘰𝘭𝘧, 𝘴𝘦𝘢𝘴𝘰𝘯 𝘵𝘩𝘳𝘦𝘦
(𝔗𝔞𝔱𝔱𝔬𝔬)
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GRACIE HAD WOKEN UP WITH ISAAC ON HER MIND. HE HAD BEEN GONE FOR a few days, trying to outrace that huge alpha werewolf, but he still hadn't come back yet. The thought of his whereabouts were imprinted into her mind as she got ready for school.
While she brushed her hair with one hand, she dialed Derek's number on her phone with the other since he had already left the loft early that morning.
"Morning," Derek greeted her. "Ready for your first day?"
"I'm worried about Isaac," she told him.
"What? What do you mean?" His voice was alert and strict, worried she was getting another warning.
"I don't mean it like that. I just mean...It's been a few days now. Isaac is who God knows where and what if he's in trouble?" Gracie explained her concerns.
Over the summer, she and Isaac's friendship grew stronger since they were the only ones left in the Hale pack, other than Derek. She considered him almost like a brother and she knew he saw her as a sister.
"Derek, we need to find him," Gracie insisted.
"I'll find him but you need to go to school," Derek told her. There was rustling over the phone and then a metallic clinking which she figured were his keys. "I'll check out the Iron Works. I'm pretty sure that's where he told me he was going last night."
"Okay," Gracie sighed. "Be careful."
"Have a good day at school."
"Thanks," she told him before she ended the call before asking herself, "Since when did he get so paternal?"
After brushed through all the tangles, Gracie swiped a strand of hair behind her ear. She grabbed her school bag and headed downstairs.
Meanwhile on the other side of town, Stiles hadn't even looked away from his laptop for hours, even when his dad walked into his room.
"You know how many vehicle collisions last year involved deer?" He asked even though he knew the answer. "247,000."
"Oh, God, please go to school," Noah groaned, painfully watching his son obsess.
"But that's crossing the road," Stiles continued on like his father hadn't spoken. "This one last night came right down the middle."
Noah stepped over to Stiles' chair, scratching the back of his neck. "I'm not gonna beg you."
