Afraid to Fall ▷ Stilinski

Chapter 18. Papa Stilinski and Peter Hale

STILES' POV

"Did you get the picture I sent?" Scott asked quickly from the other end of the phone call. I could hear the distinct chanting of the crowd behind him, he was on the sidelines of the field.

I sighed loudly, "Yes, it looks exactly like the picture." 

Derek, who was sitting next to me in my jeep, then forcefully grabbed my wrist and jerked my cell phone in his direction, "Did you check inside of it or the back of it? There's gotta be something. An inscription, an opening, something."

"No no no, the thing's flat is doesn't open. There's nothing in it, on it, around it, nothing. And where are you? You're supposed to be here, you're first line. Look man if you're not here to start, you're not gonna get to play." Scott sighed. 

I jerked my hand away from Derek and closed my eyes briefly,  "I know, just... if you see my dad or Kennedy will you tell them that I'll be there? I'm just running a bit late." I didn't leave Scott time to answer before I hastily ended the call and slid my phone back into my pocket. 

My eyes squeezed shut as I tried to convince myself that Kennedy won't hate me for lying to her face for like the tenth time. I wish I could just tell her everything, and I mean everything. I can't very well develop a relationship with her if I keep lying to her about what my life now consists of. Without thinking I slammed my hands down on the steering wheel in frustration, this is so beyond ridiculous. 

"You're not gonna make it." Derek stated flatly.

"I know!" I snapped defensively. He was really starting to piss me off. I mean, it's not like I'm potentially compromising any form of relationship with the girl I've been in love with for eight years so I can help his sorry werewolf ass or anything.

He narrowed his eyes at me, "And you didn't tell him about his mom."

"Hey, sorry for not wanting to just throw information about his freaking mother at him right before the game. Do you want him wolfing out on some random guy on the field because he can't keep his head on straight?" I retorted. 

Derek was silent and I smirked in satisfaction, "Didn't think so."

I rolled my eyes as I reached for the handle on the door so I could go and see if Derek's uncle was alone so Derek could try and get some information or something, you know I actually have no idea what the hell I'm supposed to be doing. 

"Wait, one more thing--" Derek began, and as I turned to look at him, he grabbed the back of my head and shoved it in the direction of the steering wheel. My forehead hit the grip and I groaned in pain as I quickly retracted away, pressing my hands to my now throbbing face.

"Ow! What the hell was that for?!" I shouted loudly, although I had a fairly good assumption as to why he decided to inflict physical pain.

"You know what that was for, now go! Go!" He snapped as he pointed towards the entrance to the hospital. Yeah, that was definitely for using his body for the sake of having Danny trace a cell number. 

I shot him an annoyed glance before I slid out of the jeep, groaning in both pain and even more annoyance. My face hurts and I just want to go play lacrosse so I can impress Kennedy and my dad and finally do something worthy of their time, but no-- I can't do that because I'm sour wolf's personal errand boy because Scott seems to think that the whole "best friend" extends to me doing whatever he wants. 

My shoes squeaked against the recently polished white tile floor as I made my way to the room that Derek had instructed me to go to, the hospital seemed unusually empty and it was giving me a bad feeling. Shouldn't there be at least one nurse walking around to prevent people like me from snooping?