1| ADALINE ⇹ STILES STILINSKI

20 - sexual desire

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𝙏𝙃𝙄𝙍𝘿 𝙋𝙊𝙑

Coach Finstock blew on his whistle to gather everyone's attention, "Alright, geniuses, listen up! Due to the recent pink eye epidemic, thank you Greenberg," He grumbled, "the following people have made first line on a probationary basis, emphasis on the word 'probationary.'"

Stiles looked up with determination as he crosses his fingers. Finstock pulled out a piece of paper and read the list out loud.

"Rodriguez."

Everyone clapped, including Stiles, who did it for at least two seconds and immediately went back to crossing his fingers.

"Taylor...and...uh..."

The boy straightened his posture with widened eyes, waiting for his name to be called.

"Oh, for the love of crap!" He called out in frustration. "I can't even read my own handwriting-what-what is that, an S?"

Stiles balled his hand into a fist and the other holding tightly on the wooden bench, ready to pull himself off it.

"No, no, no, that's not an S."

Stiles relaxed from his tense state of anticipation and grimaced in utter disappointment.

"That's a B. That's a B. It's definitely a B!" he cackled to himself. "Uh, Rodriguez, Taylor, and, uh...Bilinski."

It took a second or two for the new information to sink it. Stiles then felt his lips stretch wider into gaping grin and his eyebrows arch for the sky. He shot up from the bench, startling Scott.

"WHAA!" He shouted, flaring his arms around like a lunatic. "WHOO-HOO-HOO! YEAH!" He earned deathly glares from the players, especially from Jackson.

"YeAH, ha, ha!" Stiles laughed, pulling his sleeves up.

"Bilinski!" Finstock shouted.

He smiled brightly and placed his hands on his hips. "Yes?"

"SHUT UP!"

The jockey players snickered as Stiles sat himself back down. "Yes, sir." He cringed but then sent another grin to everyone, showing his  bright teeth.

"Stiles-" Scott whispered to him.

He suddenly whipped his head towards him, "It's Biles. Call me Biles, or I swear to God i'll kill you." he threatened. He spun his head back to coach who continued to talk.

"One more thing. From here on out, immediately, we're switching to co-captains. Congratulations, McCall."

Stiles raised his brows in amusement and patted his best friend on the chest.

"What?" Jackson spat, looking utterly confused.

"What do you mean, what? Jackson, this takes nothing away from you. This is about combining separate strengths into one unit. Your unit," He pointed his finger on Jackson's chest and then towards Scott, "McCall's unit, into one big unit." Finstock then blew on his whistle and shouted, "Asses on the field! Asses on the field!"