18 Months

Chapter 1 : Jerks, Tears, and a Contract

I just glare at him thinking of a responsible 'Stiles' response to that when my phone rings.

"Hold that Whittemore." I say while getting up to walk onto the balcony.

I look down to see DAD pop up

I answer it.

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Hey dad, what's up?

I need you to come home right now Stiles.

Dad, I can't. I am at a pack meeting.

Son, this can't wait. I need to tell you something.

Fine, but don't get angry if I turn up with a black eye or something.

See you soon son.

Yep be there in 10

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I sigh as I hang up.

I walk back inside and put my hand on Scott's shoulder.

"My Dad wants me back, not sure why, but he sounded serious," I say.

"Okay, I'll see you at school tomorrow," Scott says standing up giving me a bro hug.

"Yep will do. Bye." I say waving to everyone.

Everyone acknowledges my departure.

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I arrive back at my home and walk inside.

"Dad, I'm home," I say as I put my jacket on the rack.

I hear footsteps coming down the stairs.

"Son, I think you need to sit down for this," Dad says as he enters the living room.

I take a seat on the couch, Dad sitting opposite me on the coffee table.

"Stiles, I've been offered a contract in Australia." He says, holding his breath at the end, I assume for my response.

I just sit there processing the thought of us moving all the way to Australia. Leaving my friends and Scott, my brother.

"Australia? That's a long way away." I eventually say.

Dad breathes out loudly. Running his hands over his face.

"I know Stiles, but it's got amazing pay. Almost double what I am earning here, plus it's only for 18 months. I don't ask a lot of you Stiles, but this job would mean that we wouldn't have to worry about any debt." He says, looking me in the eyes. I haven't seen my Dad look so desperate in a while.

"A lot can change in 18 months dad, plus it's not my decision," I say giving him a small smile.

He stands up and gives me a hug. I hug back.

"Thanks, Stiles, I wouldn't ask you unless it was really important." He says. I just nod my head, which is still on his shoulder.

I pull away and look my father in the eyes.

"When do we leave?" I ask.

"Well, I applied about a month ago and got the phone call today. They want me there by next week, starting Monday. So we have to leave Friday." He says.

"FRIDAY! BUT IT'S WEDNESDAY TODAY." I shout.

"And there is the shouting I expected." Dad mumbles.

"Are you serious? Could they have not given us more notice?" I mutter to myself while pacing around the room. I feel a hand on my shoulder stopping me from my pacing.