A New Moon - Teen Wolf [ON HOLD]

I think it's called 'lycanthropy'

I haul myself back into bed, trying my hardest to fall asleep, eventually dozing. The last thing I hear before I drift off, is the sound of a wolf howling.

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The next morning
I sit in the kitchen, my bag already packed and, slowly biting at an apple, when I see Scott come downstairs fiddling with something under his shirt. He lets out a hiss of discomfort and quickly pushes his shirt down before his mother, who was in the kitchen as well, could see.

Once upon a time, I found it easy to talk to Scott. Now though, even though we aren't as close as we once were, he is still one of the only people I can talk to without clamming up or feeling awkward. At least, he is when other people aren't around, or when there is something to talk about.

Aunt Mel was the other person I could talk to. She was my mother and father figure, the, now, most important woman in my life. She is the person I respect the most. She took me in without complaint when my parents died, and she has shown me nothing but love ever since. Even when Scott and I bicker.

Scott grabs his bag and Mel rushes us out the door, mumbling about us being late. We both kiss her on the cheek before leaving, heading over to our bicycles.

The ride to school is usually quiet, sometimes the odd comment about the weather or somebody that is driving a bit recklessly. Today I decided to break that unspoken rule.

"Are you okay?"

Scott looked confused, his facial expression resembling a puppy. "Yeah. Why wouldn't I be?"

"Well, i saw you fiddling with your side before we left, and you were quick to cover it when you saw Aunt Mel..." I trailed off.

We rode into the drive way of the school parking lot, heading straight for the bike racks, our conversation immediately halted. I was putting my bike in the far right spot, when a shiny Porsche pulled into the spot next to me. The door opened and because of my short height, hit straight into my lower back.

The lacrosse captain, Jackson Whittemore, emerged from the car, a frown on his face, "Dude, watch the paint job."

My heart jumped into my throat. Avoiding all eye contact with him I blurted, "I'm so sorry Jackson. I didn't, I didn't mean-" he ignored me, and walked over to his friends, who were beckoning him, giving Scott filthy looks on the way over.

Once again, I embarrass myself. I bury my face in my hands and mumble to Scott, "So, your side?"

"Oh, yeah, that. I'll tell you when I tell Stiles. Come on."

"Okay." I mumble meekly.

I follow him over to where Stiles is and watch as he lifts his shirt to reveal a large bandage over his side, flinching when Stiles moves to touch it. I listen to his explanation about how, when they got separate in the woods the previous night; he fell over looking for his inhaler, he needs to keep two of them on him at all times, he looses them that much and ended up getting bit by what he thought was a wolf. To which Stiles protests and states that there haven't been wolves in California for over 60 years.

I decide to just listen to their conversation and not add in that the previous night, I heard a wolf howling. In fact, they were probably still wondering why I was there anyways.

I move to leave when they start discussing the body they were looking, seeing no need for me to be there. I had heard what I needed to. As I turn, I see a burst of strawberry blonde hair and feel somebody harshly bumping into my shoulder.

Lydia Martin. The schools queen bee, and the girlfriend of Jackson Whittemore. She's highly intelligent and aces all of her subjects, but refuses to have it known to maintain her 'image'. I personally think she should own her intelligence. It's kinda awesome.