{1} Silver Bullet }Teen Wolf{

((1))

Next to him was Jackson, and next to him was the one and only Queen Bee, Lydia Martin. I looked at Allison, and she raised her eyebrows at me.

"How did I get roped into this?"

I said, my voice a barely whisper, if even that. I saw the two guys from our English class in the corner, and one was watching me. I saw his eyes glint yellow and I narrowed my eyes.

A Werewolf. Newly bitten. Probably not even aware of what's happening to him yet. Not dangerous, until he loses it. But he hasn't... Yet.

I thought, remembering what my dad had said, and then remembering that I read that somewhere in our records.

I heard Jackson talking completely, about lacrosse, and I was almost fell asleep, when a hand knocked me across the back.

"What the.." And I saw Allison glaring at me. "Sorry." I muttered, and I walk into Economics, and ended up getting sat right next to the two guys.

"Hey. I'm Stiles Stilinski." The talkative one said. "Scott McCall." The other one, the werewolf, said.

"Reyna Argent."

I said coolly, and they looked at me, their eyes wide and full of something, that looked like clear annoyance.

"Who put bees in your hair?"

Stiles said, and my hand tensed around the knife I had in the pocket of my jacket.

I ended up with my hand wrapping around a pen, instead of the knife that was concealed there, so I wasn't hit by the sudden temptation to stab him.

Coach Finstock, who along with being the only lacrosse team coach, was also the Economics Teacher, and I was full of annoyance, when I saw it.

Because when I looked at him, I only see a big bully, and a weirdo adult, as I looked at him.

I sighed, and turned my attention to my pen, as I clicked it open and closed and kept doing it the entire class.

Finally it was over, and I walked out, my backpack over my shoulder. "That jacket is killer. Where did you get it?"

I heard someone say, and I turned from my locker, which was right next to Allison's.

I saw Lydia Martin, the clear popular girl, standing next to us, facing us as I turned to see her.

"Our mom is a fashion designer. Was, at least, for one of the single elite and famous designers in the state of New York." I said, and pulled my good old leather jacket over my shoulders.

It was torn and ripped in some places from claws, but I had sewn patches on top of them to dissuade suspicion of a supernatural kind.

From both Allison, and normal people, who just watched us, knowing we were new.

I heard Jackson coming up, and I groaned under my breath, and got kicked in the leg by Allison, out of sight from both of them, and I felt, like my leg was on fire.

Then we were saying it was family night for the benefit of getting out of the dumb party that the pair was trying to get us to come to.

I walked out after the bell rang, and drove home. I felt like someone was watching me, and I had a gun in my center console, and I reached for it.

I spun around quickly, raising it fast, and stopped from pulling the trigger just in time, when I saw it was Trent, my older brother by 2 years.

"You idiot." I said, putting it away quickly, before anyone else saw that I owned a gun as my mom and other family did, and I hugged him tightly.