“Come on, Chris, we’re gonna be late for our first day back,” one of my best friends, Isaac Lahey, called to me from where he stood, holding the front door open for me as I scuttled into the kitchen to grab a Luna bar. We were back in my fiancé, Derek Hale’s house, his real house, and things were…different. A month had passed since Derek had proposed, since the Argent’s, who are werewolf hunters, had blown up our house, and since…since Boyd Lewis had died. As my mind flashed back to that fateful night, I fought to blink back the familiar tears that welled in my eyes automatically. No, Chris. Focus…focus on what’s right in front of you. Focus on this. This is real. Not that.
“Sorry, sorry, I’m here, let’s go.” I buckled my seat belt in Isaac’s new silver Lexus as he burned rubber down the driveway, breaking speed limits to get us to school on time. It was April now, and I had end-of-semester exams coming up. Damn. I forgot to study that last chapter for chem.
“Any chance you studied chemistry last night, best friend?” I mentioned enthusiastically to Isaac, who rolled his eyes but proceeded to explain the entire chapter in great detail to me for the rest of the car ride. The minute we got to Beacon Hills High, I was slammed with the laughter, the conversation, the general hustle-and-bustle of high school. I hadn’t been at school all month; in fact, none of us had. There had been too much grief, too much loneliness, and our little family unit had just fallen apart. Erica Reyes, the fourth and only female member of the pack, had locked herself in her room, Isaac had taken refuge with Scott McCall and Stiles Stilinski (my ex-best friends), and Derek and I had just tried to comfort each other as best we could. But nothing could replace the gaping hole in the pack where Boyd had been. And being together, all four of us, only served as a painful reminder of what used to be and what could never be. So I’d split my time evenly between Derek and my brothers, Michael and Kyle Laymen, trying to make up for lost time with them. I’d also repaired my relationship with my mother, Gina Laymen, although it had taken work. It hadn’t been easy, convincing her that Derek and I loved each other and wanted to get married when I graduated. In fact, Michael had even punched Derek like the overprotective older brother he loves to act like. But in the end, they’d accepted my relationship with Derek and now we even had dinner all together once a week. It was a nice routine – school, spend time with Derek, homework, dinner, and sleep beside Derek every night. But no matter how hard I tried, I couldn’t shake the memory of the happy family I’d once had with the pack. And I missed it more than anything.
For whatever odd reason, Isaac and I had been mandated to return to school on a Wednesday, incidentally the Wednesday after my birthday on Saturday. We hadn’t had much of a celebration – my older sister Loni had flown in from Colorado where she attended college, my mom had made me a cake, I’d opened presents with my family and Derek, and then we’d all gone out to dinner in the evening. It had been simple, not overly exuberant, and just what I’d asked for, albeit a little tense considering the history between Loni and Derek. Neither Derek nor I were in the mood to have a big party, to smile and make mindless chit-chat with distant acquaintances, not so soon after Boyd’s death. So we’d kept it low-key, and now the only evidence that my birthday had passed was the fact that I was now seventeen. And so far, seventeen sucked just as much as sixteen had. Isaac and I sauntered into school five minutes before the bell rung, and I made a beeline for my locker on the second floor.
“Um, Chris, I’m gonna go say hi to Scott, is that cool?” Isaac asked me, already edging his body in the other direction, towards the science hallway where Scott and Stiles’ lockers were. I nodded, trying to respond with the appropriate amount of disinterest when I was really bubbling with anger on the inside. It had been about four months since Stiles had used me as bait to prevent Derek from attacking Lydia Martin, the girl of his dreams, and I’d consequently made the difficult decision to end my nine-year friendship with Scott and Stiles. Since then, I’d barely had any contact with the two of them and more of late it was starting to feel like Isaac would rather be friends with them than with me.
“Sure thing. See you in English,” I replied casually, mounting the steps and dodging bustling students with much difficulty. Ugh this is too much. I forgot how much I hated people. Unfortunately, due to my month-long absence, my straight-A average had dropped down to mostly Cs. I had a ton of work ahead of me if I wanted to end the year with a perfect 4.0 GPA again.
As I was approaching my locker, I spotted Allison Argent across the hall, talking animatedly with her best friend Lydia Martin. Ever since Allison’s psychotic bitch of a mom had died and Allison and the Argents had hunted down Derek and the pack for revenge, our friendship had been over. The moment I’d started hating her with everything in me, however, had been when the hunters had attacked our safe house last month, set up explosives, and blown up the house with all of us inside. Of course, being werewolves and all, Derek and the pack had had about ten seconds notice before the bombs went off, considering they heard the ten-second countdown warning beep with their enhanced audible range. Derek had wrapped his entire body around mine literally a split-second before the house had caught fire, while Erica and Isaac had simply made a dash for the door, being on the downstairs floor. After the initial explosion, Derek had cradled me in his arms and made a jump out of our second-story window to the safety of the ground below. Boyd, unfortunately, had been stuck in his room on the top floor, and hadn’t made it out of the house before it burned to the ground. The hunters had been waiting outside for us, and Derek, Erica and Isaac had just barely managed to fight them off. After that we’d been forced to flee in case they came back, but Erica had refused to leave without Boyd.
“He’s in there, Derek! I know he is! And he needs our help. If we turn our backs on him now, we might as well have signed his death sentence!” Erica cried, running back towards the burning, crumbling mess that had been our safe house for the past few weeks. Derek sprinted forward, tackling her to the ground and pinning her arms above her head while Erica struggled relentlessly.
“Erica, listen to me-“
“LET ME GO! LET ME GO DEREK OR I SWEAR TO GOD I’LL-“
“ERICA! There’s nothing you can do for him now! Boyd is dead. Do you hear me? He’s dead!” Derek boomed, his hands tightening around Erica’s wrists. I knew he had to act tough and emotionless for Erica and Isaac’s benefit, but he was clearly devastated, too. I seemed to be in shock, as my mind tried to wrap itself around the horrifying scene in front of me. Boyd, trapped in that burning building. Dying. Maybe already dead.
“No, no, no, HE’S NOT DEAD!” Erica shrieked, tears streaming down her face as she kicked and fought against her Alpha. Isaac stood beside me, his eyes fixated on the flaming wreckage in front of us. His expression was inscrutable, his eyes glassy, and without saying a word, he slipped his hand into mine. I burst into tears – painful, wracking sobs that drove me to my knees and had me holding my stomach as it contracted. I couldn’t handle it. Isaac kneeled down beside me and pulled me into his arms, while my fingers clenched tightly onto his t-shirt. It felt like I’d just gotten my chest ripped out, like there was this gaping hole inside of me that was screaming. Every cell in my body was yelling at me to fix this, to run inside and grab Boyd and make everything okay, but I knew I couldn’t. There was nothing, nothing in the entire world that could ever make this okay.
With every ounce of will power I could muster up, I forced myself to walk calmly past Allison and open my locker. Don’t do it Chris. Stay in control. Even though she’s the fucking bitch responsible for Boyd’s death and she’s the reason for all your pain, all of Erica’s pain, Isaac’s…Derek’s…Before I could stop myself I found my hands curled tightly into fists and red hot anger washed over me like a tsunami. The only thought in my mind was to get my hands on Allison’s little face and just choke her until all the life had been flushed out of her despicable body. No, I told myself fiercely, and to channel my anger I reeled back and punched the door of my locker as hard as I could. Gasps went up around me, and I looked up to see Allison smirk and walk away with Lydia, as though she’d won. Calm down, Laymen. Just take a deep breath. I did, and although the dark, bubbling rage still lingered beneath the surface, I was able to shake it off and go to my first period class of the day, Trigonometry.
After lunch I found myself standing in the doorway of my Psychology class, rooted to the spot. This was the only class I had with Boyd when it was just the two of us, and now I realized he would never walk back to lunch with me again. He would never sit in the front row with me like nerds and annoy Dean, he would never pass me little drawings of Sheila Monahan with X’s for eyes and blood spilling out of her chest, and he would never laugh at my jokes ever again.
“Chris, hey, are you okay?”
“What?” I looked up and realized Dean Morgan, our psychology teacher and fellow werewolf, was standing in front of me, one hand on my shoulder as he peered worriedly at my face. Next I felt the tears coursing down my cheeks, and I quickly reached the back of my hand up to wipe them away. To my utter embarrassment, more came, and soon I was weeping in the front of my entire psych class.
“I-I’m sorry, I’m not usually like this,” I blubbered, turning to flee the classroom as fast as possible. But not before I’d gotten a glance at Allison, sitting in the back of the classroom laughing. At me. That bitch, I thought hotly, but I was too busy sprinting to the bathroom to stop and punch her face in. Once I’d made it into the dark refuge of the little girl’s room, I leaned against the wall and tried to assuage my cries. God, this sucks. Why am I still breaking down? It’s been like a month. Deep down, I knew no amount of time would ever heal the wounds in my heart from losing Boyd, but even Isaac and Derek had stopped being depressed by now. Erica, of course, had had a romantic connection with Boyd, which pretty much gave her a free pass to be as sad as I was right now. But it wasn’t like I’d lost Derek, for crying out loud! Must be the baby hormones. And there was my answer. At nine weeks pregnant and counting, my mood swings were wild, I was lethargic ninety-nine percent of the time, and I’d packed on five more pounds in the last two weeks alone. Not to mention the cramping! My stomach felt like it was constantly in pain.
“Suck it up, Chris. You signed up for this, you knew what was gonna happen when you didn’t get an abortion,” I told myself, sliding down onto the floor to wrap my arms around my legs and cry some more. Now I was partly crying for myself, for the 16-and-Pregnant girl I’d become. This had never been the life I’d wanted for myself, although I knew if I could go back and re-do it, I would do everything exactly the same. I wouldn’t trade the life I had now for anything in the world. Except maybe to have Boyd back. I would do anything to have him back.
“You’re pregnant?!” a shrill voice above me shrieked, and my head snapped up from where it had been cradled in my hands. A girl I didn’t know stood above me, her caramel skin glowing underneath the cheap fluorescents. Almost immediately a deep blush spread across my cheeks and I jumped up to my feet defensively.
“No! God, were you spying on me?”
“No. This is my bathroom too, you know,” the annoyingly pretty girl pointed out, and I had to concede to that. I crossed my arms across my chest, nodding quietly.
“Sorry.”
“It’s fine, but you didn’t answer my question. Are you pregnant?” she insisted, examining me in such a way that I felt uncomfortable chills roll down my back.
“Of course not! I told you-“I exclaimed defiantly.
“I don’t believe you.”
“Well that’s your problem,” I snapped, turning to exit the bathroom angrily. She grabbed my arm, stopping me as I passed her.
“Wait. I heard you say you chose not to get an abortion,” she said quietly. Looking into this girl’s warm dark eyes, I was suddenly vividly reminded of Boyd. But instead of breaking down into tears again, I felt an instant connection to this girl. Like I could trust her. In the back of my head, I knew I was most likely just projecting my feelings about Boyd onto this girl (slightly racist of me, because she too was African-American) but I still found myself telling her the truth about my situation.
“Um, yeah. I found out a couple weeks ago, and by that point…well let’s just say I’m about nine weeks pregnant right now,” I told her softly, looking down at my stomach. I wasn’t showing yet, not even close, but there was a tiny, almost indistinguishable bump right between my hips that I could see if I turned my body all the way to the side. The strange girl’s eyes followed mine, and before I could stop her she’d placed one hand gently on my stomach, right where the little bump was.
“Wow. Who’s the father?”
“Nobody you know.”
“But he’s going to help you raise the baby?”
“Oh, absolutely. He’s just as excited as I am,” I responded, my expression brightening at the thought of Derek. Even though he wouldn’t admit it to me, I knew he was mentally preparing himself to be a father. Setting his morals straight, trying to be a good role model, that sort of thing. There was also a new, creamy white crib beside our bed, and all sorts of baby-proofing sprouting up around the house; he was really committed. And while I couldn’t wait to have a family with Derek, a part of me wished this was happening later. Like when I’d be eighteen and graduating high school, or in college. But I knew myself, and I knew I couldn’t have lived with the thought of murdering my baby, especially not when Derek can hear the heartbeat. It makes it so much more real. Every night since he found out, Derek has placed his head on my abdomen and just listened to our son or daughter’s soft heartbeat and slowly developing pulse.
“You know it’s not too late, right?” she whispered, looking me in the eyes.
“Yeah, I know, it’s just…it’s complicated, alright?”
“I understand. Well if you need anybody to talk to about this, I’m here for you…?”
“Uh, Christina. And you are?”
“Katherine. It’s nice to finally meet you, Christina,” Katherine smiled, shaking my hand while we both laughed.
“Finally?”
“I’m in three of your classes, you know. I’d just never met you before.”
“Oh wow, I’ve never noticed you before either!” I cried, chuckling a bit to take the edge off my words. I really hadn’t seen this girl before, but she was exceptionally nice and surprisingly nonjudgmental. This was a teen pregnancy after all, but she spoke as if I’d just told her I had a pimple on my forehead. I took the opportunity to quickly scan my eyes over Katherine; smooth honey-brown skin, long straight dark hair, a round face, and slim figure. Her outfit was cute and girly – a navy blue halter dress with white polka dots, paired with a white faded cardigan and cream three-inch gladiator sandals.
“I like your dress,” I told her as we exited the bathroom together, and she offered me a charming, wide-mouthed smile.
“Thanks. Your boots are to die for, by the way,” she called to me as we went separate ways down the hall. I giggled, basking in the warmth of a budding girl-friendship; I’d been woefully alone these past few weeks, with just Derek, Isaac and my brothers as company. A little girl talk would do me some good, I decided, so at the last minute I raced down the hall after Katherine.
“Wait! Um, which classes do we have together?”
“Trig, English and Art.”
“Great! So, um, I’ll see you in Art class later, then,” I said breathlessly, and to my utter relief Katherine smiled back at me.
“See you in Art, Chris.”
*** *** ***
Five hours later, I was done with basketball practice and waiting for Derek to pick me up out on the front steps of the school with Monica Gomez, a junior on the team and one of my only basketball friends.
“You okay, Chris?” she asked me in her throaty, Spanish-accented voice, stepping forward so I was forced to look right at her. I wrapped my black Nike sweatshirt tighter around me, shivering in the evening chill.
“Yeah, fine. Why?”
“Well, to be honest, we were all worried because you’ve been gone for nearly a month-“
“A family member died. I was on leave of absence,” I shot back protectively.
“Yeah, I know that. But girl, you played like crap tonight, and coach said…well she might not start you in our game next week,” Monica delivered the news as gently as she could, but it still hit me hard. I loved playing basketball, and it was something I knew I was at least halfway-decent at. Well fuck.
“I know, and I’m sorry. I’ll practice harder and try and get my game back.”
“Good. Cause we need you, Laymen. We can’t win without you,” Monica replied as she slung her Under Armour duffle over her shoulder, kissed me on the cheek in farewell, and walked to the dark gray car idled on the curb. I waved to Mr. Gomez, who was always friendly, before pulling my cell phone out of my pocket to dial Derek once again. It rang five times before he finally picked up.
“Hey babe, sorry I’m running late, Erica had a…well, you know,” he said resignedly, and I nodded to myself sadly.
“Yeah, I do know. Well it’s just me here; I don’t know where Isaac is,” I told him reluctantly, cringing when Derek’s yell of outrage sounded over the phone.
“What?! Chris, he’s supposed to wait at your practice!”
“I know, and trust me I tried to hunt him down, but he must’ve left!”
“Great. Just hang tight, I’ll be there in three minutes. Is anybody else there with you?” Derek growled.
I knew what he’d say if I told him now I was all alone, outside, so I told him a half-truth.
“Um, yeah, Monica,” I responded as I watched the taillights on her dad’s Camry fade into the distance.
“Okay, good. I’m nearly there.”
“Okay, see you soon. Bye,” I hung up, throwing my red Nike duffle over my shoulder and taking another sip of my yellow Gatorade. If I’d been tired earlier, it was nothing compared to now. My legs were starting to shake with the exertion of keeping my heavy body upright, and when we’d done our sprints I’d thrown up and then nearly passed out. Nobody was suspicious yet, but I had no idea what I was going to do once it got to the point where I wouldn’t be able to play basketball anymore. Let’s cross that bridge when you come to it, Chris, I told myself as Derek’s black Camaro pulled up in front of the school and he leaned over to pop the passenger door open for me. Derek’s silky dark hair shone in the overhead light, and his pale skin stood in sharp contrast with the dark stubble on his cheeks and chin, and his completely black outfit. As I met his bright green eyes, a little part of me that grew cold when I wasn’t with Derek slowly began to fill with heat.
“Hey, sweetheart,” Derek said warmly, leaning over to capture my lips passionately. I hadn’t seen him since last night, seeing as he’d been gone this morning when I’d gotten up, so I’d missed his company. Derek’s lips were sweet but spicy, and warm, soft, and inviting; I never wanted to stop kissing him. One of his hands crept around the back of my head, tucking a strand of hair back into my auburn ponytail and caressing the back of my neck. Finally he broke away, starting the car and setting us on the familiar drive home.
“Where’s Monica?” he blurted out, the realization that I’d been alone on that step, in the dark, suddenly occurring to him.
“Oh, she left literally two seconds before you showed up. Don’t worry.” Derek nodded, accepting my lie with ease and I cringed internally. You’re a bitch, you know that? He just wants you to be safe. Especially now that you’re carrying his child.
“So how was practice?” he asked, turning the radio to a station we both liked. “You Give Love a Bad Name” by Bon Jovi came on, and I sand quietly to myself while we talked.
“Not too great. I played like a five-year-old disabled kid, and then I threw up,” I told him bitterly, and Derek’s wound his fingers through mine in an attempt to comfort me, his thumb running circles on the back of my hand.
“Aw, I’m sorry. But it was your first day back, after all. You’ll get back in your groove in no time, I’m sure of it,” he assured me, smiling and leaning over to plant a kiss on my forehead. I nodded, smiling grimly.
“I sure hope so. We’ve got a game next week, and Monica says coach might not start me,” I said glumly. “But anyway, you haven’t heard anything from Isaac?”
“Nada. I bet he’s with Scott, though, so we probably have nothing to worry about. I’ll check it out just in case,” Derek reasoned, and then he began to air-drum along to the beat of Bon Jovi. I burst out laughing, singing along in as husky of a voice as I could manage in an imitation of the famous rock star. Our laughter echoed in the small car, and when the song ended I leaned my head onto Derek’s shoulder and sighed.
“Derek, I don’t think I can do this,” I whispered in the sudden silence. Derek turned the radio way down, pulling into the driveway of our house and turning to look at me with concern. In the gathering darkness of six thirty at night, I could barely see my fiancé’s face.
“Do what?”
“I saw Allison today and all I could feel was this deep, dark desire to rip her head off. And then I punched my locker to relieve my anger, and now my hand really hurts, and then I walked into Psych class and burst into tears, and then in the bathroom this girl found out I’m pregnant and it’s, it’s just too much, it’s too much,” I cried, bursting into tears for the umpteenth time that day. Derek pulled me into his arms, stroking my back and kissing me on the top of my head.
“Shh, shh, it’s okay, Chris. Let me see your hand?”
I lifted it up for him to examine, and Derek pressed his impossibly soft lips to my bruised knuckles.
“All better,” he whispered, and I let out a giggle in the midst of my crying.
“Derek, I miss him so much.”
Derek’s expression grew somber, and he leaned his head down to rest on top of mine.
“I know, Chris. Believe me, I know.”
************************************************************
Hey guys! I hereby present to you, two days earlier than I planned, the very first chapter of the sequel to Perfect Fit, called Stuck Like Glue! I know there's a lot of emotion, and a pretty big shock in this chapter, so I hope you enjoy and dont despise me too much :) I'd really love to get your thoughts on this chapter, and if you like the direction the sequel is going! A lot is going to change, and Boyd's death is just the beginning, so please stick with this story if you really like it:) And do not EVER forget to VOTE and COMMENT! Pleaseeeyy please please? thanks!! Also, please check out the AMAZING trailer for SLG which is in the external link!! xoxoxox