Grace
"This is the last place I want to be at," I grumble as I adjust my backpack strap. "You know, making me sit through chem with Harris is a form of child abuse."
Stiles chuckles at me. "Come on, let's just go see what this bite that Scott's been talking about is."
"Or we can just head back to the jeep and leave," I suggest, groaning as I follow my brother down the side walk.
Quickly spotting Scott, Stiles and I approach him. Walking up to him, Stiles rubs his hands together excitedly as he awaits to see the bite.
"Okay, let's see thing thing," Stiles says as Scott lifts his shirt up.
Glancing at his side, I see a white bandage covering it but a few drops of blood seeping through. Stiles being the dumb ass that he is, extends his hand toward the bandage as Scott jumps back in surprise.
Scott quickly tugs his shirt down as he grabs his bag. "It was too dark to see much, but I'm pretty sure it was a wolf."
Walking toward the school, I ask, "A wolf bit you?"
"Uh huh," Scott says, looking at me wide eyed.
I shake my head. "No, not a chance."
"I heard a wolf howling," Scott states and Stiles chuckles.
"Uh, no you didn't," Stiles tells him and Scott glances at us in confusion.
Scott scoffs. "What do you mean I didn't? You don't know what I heard."
I shrug. "Yeah, but I do know that wolves haven't been in Beacon Hills in over sixty years."
Stopping in his stride, Scott asks, "Really?"
Stiles rolls his eyes. "Yes, really. There are no wolves in California."
Scott sighs. "Well, if you don't believe me about the wolf, then you're definitely not going to believe me when I tell you about how I found the body."
Stiles and I glance at each other in amazement as well as excitement.
"Are you kidding me?" Stiles asks in disbelief.
"Nah, I wish. I'm going to have nightmares for a month," Scott tells us, shaking his head.
"That is frickin awesome," Stiles says with a laugh, but his attention quickly moves to Lydia who is approaching the school. "I mean, this is seriously going to be the best thing that's happened to this town since-- since the birth of Lydia Martin. Hey Lydia, you look like you're gonna ignore me."
I chuckle as my brother stares at her figure entering the school. He's such a love sick puppy. Facing Scott, I let out a sigh.
He chuckles before saying, "Uh, Grace, you look really pretty today. I mean, uh, not that you don't look nice every day."
Looking down at my plain sweater, Aztec print skirt, and ankle boots, I shrug. I didn't dress up too much.
"Thanks, McCall," I tell him, ruffling his shaggy hair. "You don't look too bad yourself."
I look at him in confusion as his cheeks flush, but I quickly look away when my brother turns to face us once again.
"You're the cause of this, you know," Stiles tells Scott.
"Uh huh," Scott says sarcastically.
Turning toward the school as the bell rings, Stiles says, "Bringing me down to your nerd depths. I'm a nerd by association. Scarlet nerded by you."
Sloan
I tossed and turned all night, not getting a single moment of sleep. I couldn’t stop thinking about that body. I’d always imagined what it would be like to solve a murder case, I just never thought I’d be thrown into one so soon, especially in a quiet town like Beacon Hills. I glanced over at my alarm clock, in bright red was the time 4:17. I would have to be at the station at seven and there was no use in trying to fall asleep now.
I got out of bed and changed into running tights and a dri-fit jacket. I slipped on my newest pair of running shoes and pulled my mop of curly hair into a ponytail. I grabbed my deputy belt which contained my gun, handcuffs, taser, and flashlight. There could be a possible killer on the loose. I’m not going out at this time unarmed.
Hopefully going for an early-morning jog could give me the kind of pick me up I need to get through this next day. I considered making coffee for once, but it just didn’t sound appetizing. I’ve never had much of a like for the stuff.
The morning air was brisk as I stepped outside. The sun still had yet to rise, so my only source of light was from the street lamps scattered along the sidewalk. I didn’t mind though, I prefer running in the dark anyways.
I plugged in my earphones and turned up my favorite jogging playlist before setting out. Running has always been my outlet, a good way to clear my head. It’s what I always did whenever my family moved to a new town back before I left for college. I guess you could call me a military brat, always following my father around when he got transferred to a new sanction. I’ve attended more schools than I can count on both my fingers and my toes, seven of them high schools.
After the third high school, I just kind of stopped trying to make friends. I knew that I would end up moving again and it would be another goodbye. I got so tired of having to say goodbye.
That’s why I like it here in Beacon Hills. Living here is my choice. I can stay or I can leave. It’s not a matter of whether they need my father to train a new round of recruits halfway across the country. I can finally make my own decisions.
The cool air felt nice against my skin as I began to shed a light sweat. I had been lost so much in my thoughts I didn’t realize I reached the edge of town. The path that led into the preserve was just ahead. It was a risk, but I enjoyed running the trail, and I had my gun if I needed to defend myself.
The leaves beneath my feet were still damp from the morning dew. I had to be careful not to slip on them as I ran. I attempted to push the thoughts of the dead body out of my mind, but being in the forest wasn’t exactly helping. Maybe coming here wasn’t such a good idea.
I paced myself, slowing down slightly before I became too out of breath. I’d already been running awhile. I should probably turn around soon and head back home before I drift too far, but the scenery was surprisingly relaxing. Well, when I wasn’t thinking about the poor woman who was murdered out here.
I approached a hill, remembering what each of my four cross country coaches taught me back in high school. I took a deep breath before sprinting up the hill, ignoring the burning deep in my legs and throat. It was steeper than I anticipated and I was out of breath by the time I reached the top.
Stopping to catch my breath, I leaned on my knees as I sucked in air. When I stood up straight again I realized I had reached an old and tattered house. I approached it tentatively, keeping a hand on my gun as a precaution. I think I remember reading an old report on this case. This must be the Hale house that burned down about six years ago. I'm amazed that it's still standing.
A crack of a twig from behind me caused me to jump and pull my gun from my belt. I held it in both hands, looking around at my surroundings. The sun had peered over the horizon by now, giving me a sliver of slight to search for the source of the sound.
There was another rustle of movement, this time on my other side. I turned towards it, keeping a firm finger over the trigger. I have yet to fire my gun outside of the shooting range since I've been here. But if it comes down to it, I'm not afraid to pull the trigger. It's what I've been trained to do, after all.
"This is private property," said a voice from behind me.
I jumped, my heart nearly shooting up and out of my throat. Before me stood a tall and brooding man. He was sporting a leather jacket that had too long of sleeves and dark jeans. His black and scruffy beard made him look so tattered yet so put together all at the same time.
I kept my gun in the air, pointed directly at him. He could be the killer for all I know. Who else would be creeping around in the forest at this time of day wearing all black? It was suspicious. He took a few slow steps towards me.
"Stay back!" I ordered, pulling my ear buds out and letting them hang at my sides. He disobeyed, taking another step in my direction. "I said stay back!"
"You're not going to shoot me," he said. His voice wasn't as low or gruff as I'd expected based off of his appearance. He put his hands in the air, continuing his stride towards me. "Not an unarmed man,"
"Unless I find reason to," I said, my voice raw and stern.
I blew a huff of air out my nostrils, since my lips were pressed into a thin line. I steadied my hands. I couldn't let him see that my grip on my gun was shaking. He was so close to me now that I could see the color of his eyes, a light green. They should've been dark to match the rest of him.
He placed a hand on the top of my gun, pushing it down softly. I glanced from my lowering hands and back to his face. "You're not going to shoot me," he repeated.
I thought about shooting him just to prove him wrong. But, I'd rather not get arrested for shooting an unarmed man without motive. Unless I could use him taunting me as a motive, but I'm not sure how well that argument will hold up in court. Besides, if I can get past how creepy this whole situation is, he's actually kind of attractive.
"Who are you?" I asked, trying to steady my voice. My heart was racing a million miles per minute.
"I should be asking you that," he said with a smirk. "Considering you're the one who trespassed onto my property,"
I cleared my throat, holding my head high. "I'm a deputy,"
"Do you have a warrant?"
"Well, no," I said, looking down and away.
"That's what I thought," he said with a smug expression.
He stood with his feet too far apart and his arms folded across his chest. He was only a foot away from me and I was sure he could hear how loud my heart was beating. It was filling my own ears. I took a deep breath in an effort to calm myself down.
"I'm Derek Hale," he finally said.
His last name caused me to piece it all together. I felt stupid for not realizing it sooner. "So, this is your house," I said.
"I guess you could call it that," he said. I swallowed hard. "Now, are you going to tell me your name?"
"Deputy Sloan," I said, having to clear my throat again.
"Your first name is Deputy?" He said, cocking an eyebrow.
"To you it is," I said, my voice harsher than I'd expected.
I hate my first name, I always have. Growing up in a military family with an older brother sort of detracted the majority of my feminism from my personality. Bridget was just too girly of a name for me. My mother always tried to turn me into her 'little princess', buying me dresses and even entering me in a few beauty pageants when I was younger. She finally gave that up once I reached high school. I was too much like my father.
Derek took a step back, holding his hands up in defense. He should be afraid of me. I'm the one with the gun and a taser. I'm professionally trained in self defense and could easily take him down, even if he is practically twice my size. He wasn't all that much taller than me, but in comparison to how broad and muscular he is, I'm a pea.
"Alright, fair enough," he said. "You know, you really shouldn't be running around out here all by yourself. They did find a dead body last night,"
"Half a dead body," I corrected. "And, in case you hadn't noticed, I can take care of myself."
I pulled a round of bullets from my belt and in one swift motion I loaded my gun. I cocked it and held it in the air to flaunt it. The smirk on my face grew as I looked at the dumbfounded expression on his. I'm not stupid enough to go for a jog with a loaded gun. I did pass training.
With that, I restored my gun to my belt and plugged my earphones back in. I gave Derek one last smug look before jogging back off the same way I'd came. I couldn't get the image of him out of my mind, however. He just seemed so mysterious and...interesting. His entire family was killed in a fire, you don't exactly come out of something like that undamaged.
Yet, there was still something off to me about the way he talked about the dead body. He said it as if he knew something. In all honesty, it wouldn't surprise me if he was the killer, though a part of me really hopes not. I wouldn't want to have to admit to being that attracted to an alleged murderer.
Grace
"As you all know," my English teacher begins to drawl. "There was indeed a body found in the woods last night."
Turning to face Stiles and I, Scott looks at us and Stiles shoots him a wink. I'm in complete awe that Scott found the body although I wish I could have found it along with him. I mean, Stiles and I are the ones who dragged him to the woods.
"I'm sure your eager little minds are coming up with various scenarios as to what happened, but I am here to tell you that the police have a suspect in custody," my teacher finishes as he writes Kafka's Metamorphosis on the board.
Scott glances at Stiles and I and we both shrug. I don't recall my dad saying anything about this, but then again, why would he tell us? We already got the invasion of privacy speech last night-- which was one of many. Of course Sloan had to be the one to catch us. She's caught us multiple times in the two months that she's been here.
"Which means you can give your undivided attention to the syllabus which is on your desk outlining the semester," my teacher explains and various groans erupt through the classroom.
I sigh softly so that my teacher doesn't hear my clear distaste in this syllabus. I begin to glance over it and roll my eyes at the different books we are required to read.
I glance up when I hear the door open and I see our principal leading a girl into the class. She has long, black curly hair, a jacket that's to die for, and in all honesty she looks pretty nervous right now. Then again, who wouldn't be nervous when every eye in the classroom is staring at you.
"Class, this is our new student, Allison Argent," the principal explains to us. "Please do your best to make her feel welcome."
Looking around, Allison quickly spots a desk behind Scott and to my right. When she sits down, I give her a small smile which she returns. A moment later, Scott turns around and hands her a pen, love stricken on his face.
She glances at the pen slightly confused before taking it, a smile growing on her face. "Thanks."
"We'll begin with Kafka's Metamorphosis one page one thirty-three," my teachers says and we all grab our books out of our bags.
♔
I hate it, I hate watching lacrosse practice with a burning passion but I do it anyway. Why? Because Stiles is my ride home and I'm not exactly in the mood to walk ten miles. He'd probably be done with lacrosse practice by the time I'd be halfway home.
So I do what I did last year, I sit in the top corner of the bleachers by myself and work on homework. It's not like I can walk over and sit with Lydia and her clique of wannabes. Trust me, a girl tried that and after what Lydia said to her she never came to a lacrosse game or practice again. She is literally the queen bitch of all bitches and somehow my brother has fallen for her.
I watch as the boys jog onto the field and Finstock tosses Scott a long stick. He expects Scott to play goalie? Of all people Scott? There's a reason why Danny is your starting goalie and Scott sits on the bench. No offense to Scotty, but he's barely any better than my brother and my brother sucks at lacrosse. Full on not even allowed to practice because he's that bad.
I can actually see the look of dread on Scott's face as he positions himself in the goal. A moment later, the ref blows the whistle and Scott falls to the ground. Why the hell did he just drop to the ground? I cringe as someone shoots the ball and it hits him square in the helmet.
Sighing, I stand up and attempt to boost his confidence. "Come on, Scotty!"
He glances over at me and begins to roll his shoulders as he preps for the next shot. I watch as another ball is shot at Scott and he easily catches it in his net. Smiling softly, I clap my hands together even though I'm slightly surprised.
I can literally see the confidence around Scott. One save was all he needed to get in the zone. Another shot comes and Scott easily catches it, causing a smile to break out onto my face. And if that was hard enough to believe, I become dumbfounded when he catches another shot and another and another.
I wince as I watch Jackson saunter his way to the front of the line and shove the next player back. Apparently team captain can't be out shined by a second string player. I feel myself scoot to the edge of my seat in anticipation.
"You can do this, Scott," I murmur softly and I see him glance at me as though he heard me.
Looking back at Jackson, Scott awaits the shot. My eyes widen as I watch Jackson shoot it and Scott catch it. Scott caught the ball. I couldn't help myself, I shot up from my seat and began cheering louder than anyone else. I see Stiles jump up as well and I continue to cheer.
"That's my friend!" Stiles shouts and I chuckle.
Scotty did it. Scott actually did it and I couldn't be any happier.
♔
Having my brother as well, my brother, I'm currently trying to find something that is worthy of Lydia Martin. Yes, Stiles is dragging me to her party and he had a whole speech as to why I need to look good and get Lydia's approval. I swear, my brother is obsessed with her.
Anyway, coming home to hear Scott shouting at Stiles has me truly and utterly confused. Approaching Stiles' room, I lean in so I can hear what they're saying.
"You're cursed, Scott," Stiles says sadly and I furrow my eyebrows in confusion. "You know, it's not just that the moon will cause you to physically change. It just so happens that it's when your blood lust will be at its peak."
"Blood lust?" Scott questions.
"Yeah, your urge to kill," Stiles explains to him and I can't help but feel even more confused as to what's going on in there.
"I'm already starting to feel an urge to kill, Stiles," Scott states to him. I hear some paper's move around and then my brother says, "The change can be caused by anything that raises your pulse. The only person that raises your pulse besides Allison is-- You know, never mind. I'm going to cancel this date."
"What are you doing?" I hear Scott deadpan.
"I'm cancelling this date," my brother tells him and the next thing I know I hear a loud bang.
"Give it to me!" Scott shouts loudly and with that I burst into the room to see him holding my brother up against the wall with his hand in a fist.
"What the hell do you think you're doing?" I shout as he grabs Stiles' chair and shoves it to the ground as he backs away from Stiles.
Breathing heavily, Scott looks at me in confusion before glancing at Stiles.
"Get out," I state to him even though I don't know what they're fighting over and frankly I don't care. He can't just come here and almost punch my brother square in the jaw like that.
Looking from me to Stiles, he says, "I'm sorry. I gotta go get ready."
Stepping away from my brother, he maneuvers around me before exiting the room. Once the door's shut, I walk up to Stiles to see him fighting back tears.
"Are you okay?" I ask and he slightly nods, pointing to the tipped over chair.
Glancing at it, I see three long scratches across it that could only be caused by an animal. Thinking over the conversation the two just had, I begin to piece it all together.
"Scott's a werewolf," I murmur when I'm hit with realization. "And tonight's a full moon."
♔
Wearing a short-sleeved, white and floral dress along with a pair of Toms, I step out of my brother's jeep as we get to the party. I watch as people from all different years run across the lawn and enter the house. The sounds of a pop song blare and I walk with Stiles toward the front door.
The moment I walk in I'm instantly pushed around by the crowd of people. Saying this is the biggest party of the year is an understatement, well, behind Lydia's birthday party. A party which we've never been invited to. Actually, I don't even think we were invited to this one.
Heading toward the backyard, well technically a patio with an extravagant pool, I see Scott dancing with the new girl Allison. I feel a slight pang on annoyance course through me at the sight of them and I'm not sure why. I should be happy that he's found a nice girl to bring to the party. At least I think she's a nice girl.
As for Stiles and I, he went to talk to some of his lacrosse buddies while I awkwardly stand in a corner sipping on a pink colored punch which obviously has more alcohol in it than I should be drinking. Definitely going to need some Advil tomorrow.
And as my internal ramblings begin to get slightly on the sexual side - imagining Ryan Gosling stripping - I'm pulled out of them when Scott pushes his way through the crowd, his hands on his head.
"You okay, Scott?" I ask, knowing that this is probably the full moon messing with him.
I give my brother who's across the room from me a nervous glance before rushing after Scott. I watch as Scott rushes to his car and quickly drives away. Pushing past me, Stiles then runs toward his car, leaving me stranded at the party. Of course taking me along isn't a thought that crossed either of their minds.
Sighing, I freeze when someone says my name.
"Grace, I'm a friend of Scott's," the voice says and I turn around to see a man in a black, leather jacket standing behind me. "My name's Derek. How about I give you a ride."
"I'm good, I'll just walk," I say, slurring my words slightly.
"You're far too tipsy for that," he tells me with a chuckle before grabbing my arm and dragging me toward his car.
"Let me go," I demand, but he doesn't loosen his grip. "Scott doesn't know you."
Pushing me into the back of his car, he quickly gets in and begins to drive away from the party.
"How do you know Scott?" I ask as my vision blurs slightly.
"Let's just say we have mutual interests," Derek tells me as he drives down the familiar road to my house.
How does he know where I live? Did I even tell him my address? He makes a sharp turn, making me groan in distaste as he pulls into my driveway.
"Now make sure Scott doesn't get himself into any more trouble," Derek tells me as I stumble out of the car.
"What do you mean?" I murmur, but he's already pulling away.
Tripping over my ankle, I make my way toward my front door. Oh, my dad is going to be beyond pissed at me coming home tipsy.
"Grace!" a voice shouts and I barely turn around to see Stiles running toward me.
"Hey, why are there two of you?" I ask as I see a second Stiles run along side of him and I begin to giggle.
"And you are drunk," he mutters before leading me inside.
"Am not," I say defensively as he leads me toward my couch.
Falling against it, I instantly fall asleep.
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