Awakened ☾ TEEN WOLF {1}

Lunatic

"Where are we going?" I ask, stomping through the reserve.

"You'll see." Stiles says leading the way.

"We really shouldn't be out here." Scott says. "My mom is in a constant state of freak-out from what happened at the school."

"Well your mom isn't a cop, trust me there's no comparison." I said, shoving aside a tree branch.

"Can you at least tell us what we're doing out here?" Scott asks Stiles.

"Yes when your best friend gets dumped, and you other best friend finds out her parents know about WereWolves-"

"I didn't get dumped," Scott interrupts him. "We're just taking a break."

"And Derek only said my dad knew about the WereWolves, I have no clue what my mom knows." I pointed out.

"Allright, well when your best friends, gets told by his girlfriend they're taking a break, and one of her parents knows about WereWolves... You get your best friends drunk." Stiles says with a smile. I stop and look up, Stiles has a bottle of liquor in his hands. I didn't drink much but this wasn't a bad idea. We all took a few swings, and I decided to lay down against a log. Looking up at the night sky. The full moon was coming soon, something we hadn't had time to think about.

I hadn't said a word to my parents since the night we were trapped in the school. I don't know if it mattered if I did or not. They could've told me what was going on before and didn't. Did they know that I knew about the Hales? Or did they even know Scott had been bitten? This was giving me a headache, or maybe it was the liquor.

"Dude, you know," Stiles said with a slurred speech. "She's just one... One girl. You know, there are so many... there's so many other girls in the sea."

"Fish in the sea." I correct him.

"Fish?" He asks. "Why are you talking about fish? I'm talking about girls. I love girl, love... Especially ones with strawberry blonde hair. Green eyes, five foot three..."

"Like Lydia?" Scott asks just to shut him up.

"Yea, exactly. Hey, how did you know I was talking about... about... What was I talking about?" Stiles asks.

"Hey, you're not happy." Stiles says to Scott like an accusation. "Take a drink!"

Stiles picks up the bottle, and holds it out to Scott.

"I don't want anymore." He shakes his head.

"You're not drunk?" Stiles asks him.

"I'm not anything." He replies ominously.

"Hey, maybe it's like... maybe it's like not needing your inhaler anymore, you know. Maybe you can't get drunk as a wolf.... Am I drunk?" Stiles rambles.

"You are." I tell him tiredly. "But you might be right."

"Come on dude!" Stiles whines. "I know it feels bad. I know it hurts, I know. Well, I don't know. I know this, I know that as much as being broken up hurts, being alone is way worse."

I sit up, putting my head between my knees. But my headache just gets worse.

"That didn't make any sense." Stiles realizes.

"Well!" I heard other voices approaching. "Look at the little bitches getting their drink on."

Two guys approach us, swiping Stiles' bottle from the ground. Scott looks up and glares at him.

"Give it back." He says sternly.

"What's that, little man?" He asks.

"I think he wants a drink." The other one says.