Later on, in Scott’s Algebra class, he and Lydia were standing in front of the class writing an equation on the board. And while Scott was content to stay quiet and try to figure out the answer to the math problem in front of him (as well as his wolf problems), Lydia had other plans. “Why is there a rumor going around that you and Stiles aren’t playing tomorrow?” she asked.
“Because we’re sort of not,” Scott answered somberly.
“I think you sort of are,” Lydia corrected briskly, as she wrote purposefully on the chalkboard. “Especially when you brutally injured my boyfriend by ramming into him.”
Scott paused and glared at the redhead strawberry-blonde. “He brutally injured himself by ramming into me,” he retorted.
“Jackson’s gonna play tomorrow,” Lydia announced. “But he's not gonna be at his peak, and I prefer my boyfriend at peak performance.”
“Okay?” Scott shrugged, barely noticing that Lydia was almost halfway done solving her math equation. “I date the captain of the winning lacrosse team, and if they start off the season losing, then I date the captain of the losing lacrosse team,” Lydia emphasized. “I don't date losers!”
“Losing one game isn't gonna kill anyone,” Scott gritted out. “In fact, it might even save someone.”
“Fine! Don't play,” Lydia huffed. “We'll probably win anyway. Then we’ll go out afterward like we were planning… and I'll introduce Allison to all the hot players on the team. And Scott McCall can stay home, surfing the net for porn.” Then she dragged the chalk across the board one last time before slamming it down on the chalk stand, wiping her hands off, and strutting back to her seat leaving Scott to stew over his unsolved dilemmas.
Just then, the teacher walked back up to the board and sighed in disappointment at the secret teenage werewolf. “Mr. McCall, you're not even close to solving your problem.”
“Tell me about it,” Scott grumbled.
* * *
After class, Scott was closing up his locker when he was suddenly dragged away by his collar. “Hey, come here,” Stiles urged, as he pulled him close to the stairwell where the Sheriff and a couple of his officers were talking with the principal. “What, Stiles?” Scott asked. “You need to hear what they’re saying,” Stiles replied. Scott and Stiles leaned in to listen. “—I want everyone under the age of 18 indoors by 9:30 p.m., understand? We would like to implement the curfew effective immediately,” Sheriff Stilinski said lowly across the hall. Both Scott and Stiles shared a grave look as they backed away from the stairs.
“I can't believe this is happening. A curfew! Seriously?” Scott groaned.
“This is insane! My dad’s out there looking for a rabid animal, while the jerk-off who actually murdered her is prancing around OUR SCHOOL, hanging out and just doing whatever he wants,” Stiles complained. “Well, it's not exactly like we can just tell your dad the truth about Derek,” Scott responded.
“Yeah, well, I can do something,” Stiles countered.
“Oh, yeah, like what?” Scott questioned.
“Find the other half of the body,” Stiles said as though it were obvious. Then he left without giving Scott the chance to respond. “Wait, Stiles,” Scott protested.
Just then, Scott overheard the tail-end of a conversation between Allison, Lydia, and one of the lacrosse players which stirred up a whirlwind of jealousy and anger. Without thinking, he immediately stormed over to the group, his rage flaring vehemently as Lydia stared him down practically daring him to say something before grabbing the other boy by the hand and leading him off down the hall. “So Lydia is introducing you to everybody?” Scott asked. “Yeah, she is. Lydia has been so unbelievably nice to me,” Allison replied.
“I wonder why,” Scott muttered.
“Well, maybe knows how much being the new girl can suck,” Allison sighed, shifting her arms slightly to hold onto her jacket. “Anyway, I heard Lydia say that you weren’t gonna be playing in the game on Saturday.” Scott's eyes widened nervously. “What?!" he squawked. “Who told you that?” “It's okay if you don't,” she added quickly. “I mean, if there's something more important that you need to do that night, it's totally fine.”
“Wait, it is?” he perked up.
“Yeah, besides I've never been good at social high school events anyway,” she reasoned. “And you know if I were to date someone that was involved with social events like the game coming up, I would hope that he wouldn't put that sort of popularity over the things that really matter.”
Scott paused and thought for a moment. “Oh, really?”
“Yeah, I just think that being a good person is better than being popular, you know?” Allison remarked, hoping that she had reeled him in.
However, Scott was no longer paying attention to what she was saying, once he took notice of her jacket and immediately recognized it as the same jacket Allison had worn the night of the party. “Where did you get that?” he blurted out.
She looked down at the jacket in her arms before looking back up at the boy and saying, “Oh, my jacket. I think Lydia brought it back from the party. I probably left it there when I got a ride from your friend Derek. Which reminds me, I wanted to thank you for setting that up for me so that I wouldn't be stranded.”
“Did Derek tell you that?” Scott asked.
“Yeah,” she lied easily, much to her surprise. “Yeah, told me everything.”
Okay, so maybe she was messing with him a little bit, but he did abandon her at the party, and he still went to the party knowing that he could have hurt someone. Sue her.
Once again, Scott froze in terror. “He told you everything?”
“Yeah, he told me how you had caught the stomach bug and couldn't take me home so he said you asked him to take me back,” Allison answered. Scott opened his mouth to say something, but before he could Allison spoke again, “And again, that was really sweet of you and Derek was a really nice guy.”
“Allison, how much did you speak to him that night?” Scott interrogated.
Now he was starting to get pushy, and she definitely didn't appreciate the tone in his voice when he asked her that. "Not much. Anyway, uh, I gotta get to class. So I'll see you later, I guess," she deflected, as she pivoted to walk away from the werewolf.
He tried to call after her but she was already halfway down the hall.
* * *
After school let out, Scott immediately headed straight for the old Hale house in search of the Alpha.
"DEREK!" he yelled, as he got off his bike, and started stomping up the hill.
"DEREK!" he yelled again. He looked around and saw no sign of the Hale Alpha.
But he did see a large pile of dirt just around the side of the house. It looked fresh enough like it had just been dug up. However, whatever was buried beneath it smelled old and rotten.
Just then, he caught a whiff of another wolf and whirled his head around to see Derek leaning against one of the columns in front of the house with his hands in his pockets and a bored expression on his face. "You called?" he drawled.
"Stay away from her!" Scott shouted. "She doesn't know anything!"
Oh, you poor idiot. Derek mused.
Deciding he wanted to have a little fun, Derek pushed himself off the post and slowly stalked toward the younger boy. "Yeah, what if she does?" he asked knowingly. "You think that you and Stiles can just Google werewolves and now you have all the answers, is that it? You don't get it, Scott, but I'm looking out for you and for Stiles. Think about what could happen; you're out on the field, the aggression takes over, and you shift in front of everyone."
By now, Scott was fuming and regardless of the truth in the Alpha's words, Derek's reasoning fell on deaf ears. Because that's how Scott always gets around Allison.
Derek grabbed the lacrosse stick hanging out from Scott's backpack, which was now laying on the ground, and twirled it in his hands. "What happens when your mom sees you? Or your friends?" he queried, jabbing Scott with the net end of the stick tauntingly. "What happens when everyone sees you for who you really are?"
Then he extended his claws and cut through the net with ease like a knife through butter. "Everything falls apart, and let's face it, Scott... you can't handle the truth," the Alpha mocked. Then he tossed the stick in the air and disappeared in a blur of motion just as the stick landed in Scott's hands.