EDITED
PREVIOUSLY: IN WHICH SHE IS ASKED A QUESTION
DISCLAIMER: I Do Not Own Teen Wolf
Wolf Moon,
Ellie decided that taking a drive through Beacon Hills would probably be a good idea. She and Allison didn't get to finish their tour the night before (almost accidentally killing someone puts a bit of a shadow over fun cousin bonding time), so venturing outside on her own seemed like a plan. Her cousin was already doing homework ("You're so lame, Al," Ellie scoffed, "Who does homework?") and refused to come out with her, so she just changed into something comfier (what she'd worn all day minus the bra), grabbed the keys to the Mazda and went for a drive.
The first thing she saw was the animal clinic, but she didn't think that would be very important. She was allergic to cat fur and she was terrified of dogs, so, unless she decided she wanted a chinchilla, the location of a vet was about as important to her as who was winning America's Next Top Model. That show was Allison's weakness not hers (though, admittedly, she'd watched it a few times).
Next it was the school, but she breezed past that like it wasn't even there. The six hours of hell she'd already endured there gave her no desire to wander through the parking lot - unless it was to break in and spray paint 'dick' on Harris' wall. Then there was the local supermarket, and the 24 hour Macy's (she had to convince herself not to go inside and take a look; she'd been coerced by Allison to let Lydia be the one to show her around that weekend).
It was when she was on her way home that she hit the dog. She was just driving, humming along to Rockstar by Nickelback and mentally flipping off the people that judged her music choices. The volume was too low, so she let her eyes flicker from the road in front of her to find the dial on the radio. A moment later, she heard a loud whine and her car bumped.
She braked immediately, horrified, and ran out of the car. She didn't like dogs, sure, but that didn't mean she wanted to kill one! Without thinking, or caring about the rain (seriously, was rain like an omen for hitting/almost hitting someone with your car, or something?) she gathered the canine up in arms, deposited him in the trunk of her car, and ran back round to the driver's seat.
It wasn't a smart move, considering, but all she could register was that she needed to get the animal to the clinic as soon as possible; contacting the owner was the least of her worries. Later, Ellie would question the decision a lot - the boot really wasn't the best place for an injured dog - and what would she have done if it died? Probably blame Allison.
When she got to the red brick building, she realised she was crying. Her hair had started to curl again, sticking uncomfortably to her face while she banged her fist on the window. Her head kept turning to the side to look back at the car ever few minutes, some part of her afraid the dog would get up and crawl away.
The door opened, and Ellie didn't recognise who it was at first. Through the haze of panic, all she saw was a vague silhouette looking at her in worry and slight discomfort - which was probably due to the fact she was blubbering like a new-born.
"I- I didn't see it," she said shakily, "This dog, it just - it came out of nowhere! I would never have - not on purpose - I need you to help me make sure it's okay - please let it be okay, oh God..."
"It's alright," the person soothed, "Do you remember where it happened? So I can send animal control to find it?" A hand found its way onto her shoulder, rubbing soothing circles that she could barely feel.
"No!" she shook her head frantically, "No, I mean, I know where it happened. Somewhere between the high school and Macy's, but that doesn't matter! It's in my car."
"Okay, it's okay," he placed a hand on her shoulder, "Give me your keys and I'll go and get it."
They gently guided her inside, out of the cold rain, and Ellie's eyes finally cleared enough to make out the vet's face. With a start, she realised that this kid was familiar - one of the few people at school she'd interacted with throughout the day.
She was handing over her keys before even thinking about it, although hindsight told her later that just entrusting her cousin's car to a total stranger was stupid and potentially dangerous, given she was alone with the guy and giving away her means of escape.
The boy half-ran into the rain, to where she'd parked the Mazda, and Ellie wandered into the clinic's reception. It was a lot warmer inside, and quieter, only the harsh sound of rain battering the windows and roof to disturb any work going on inside.
The room itself was quite big, for such a small building. There was a clean desk almost in front of the far wall, with organised paperwork and folders piled up on the surface. As seemed to be usual for the little town, the computer set up at the bend of the counter, where it curled away from the wall, was dated, and probably still running on Windows '98. An open door was behind the desk, but Ellie didn't go to it, as the little swing-door embedded in the counter was closed.
There was a whining behind her, and the boy appeared, brown hair wet and flopping over his forehead in a way that, had Ellie been in any other situation, would have been adorable. His hoodie looked damp, but much less so than Ellie's t-shirt, though there was a large wet patch at the centre, where he held the dog to his chest.
He pushed easily through the swing-door, then through the open doorway to the examination room at the back. "You can come through," he called behind him.
She followed nervously, hands twisting together, ignoring the strange rush of tingles that travelled down her spine as she passed to the other side of the desk.
The boy had already carefully set the dog down by the time she came to a stop beside him. This room was larger still, a dull cream to match the reception but much more clinical. There were metal shelves on wheels lining two of the walls, packed with unfamiliar medical equipment, and another computer on a small wooden desk in the corner. Another wall, closest to the one with the door, to the left, head two doors attached to it. A line of windows filtered moonlight into the room, the blinds still up, and the harsh florescent lighting reflecting off of the metal table in the middle of the space.
The dog on top of it looking miserable - or as miserable as a dog could look - with brown eyes staring pitifully at the boy. She watched him gently touch the animal, focusing after a moment on the leg curled awkwardly beneath it.
"I think her leg is broken," he told her finally, "I've seen Deaton do plenty of splints. I can do it myself and give her a pain killer for now, but she'll have to stay overnight so that he can look at it tomorrow. I'll contact the owners," he lightly touched the dog's collar, "In the morning."
"Thank you for doing this," Ellie said, wiping her face. She knew she was flushed, worry draining from her to leave embarrassment in its wake. "If you hadn't been here I don't know what I would've done. I've never been in this sort of situation before."
He grinned boyishly. "It was nothing. I do this sort of things all the time."
"Not all heroes wear capes," she acknowledged solemnly, before allowing herself to smile. "In all seriousness, thank you for helping me. I promise I'm not usually this helpless."
"I don't mind. It's my job." He shrugged, "Besides you've handled this much better than some of the other people I've seen. Once, my friend Stiles accidentally hit a fox with his Jeep and he was a total wreck. It was fine, no damage done, but he refused to drive anywhere for a week." He frowned a bit, "And you should definitely forget I said that, because he will kill me if found out that anyone knew."
Ellie smirked a bit. "My lips are sealed." She wrapped her arms around herself to conserve warmth, realising that she'd been violently shivering for several minutes.
The boy noticed. "I have an extra shirt in my bag," he offered. "That should keep you warm." Her mouth twisted, unsure, and he gently teased, "Don't worry, it's clean."
"Oh," she moved her arms to dangle by her sides, "You don't have to. You've already helped a lot, and I don't even know your name."
"I'm Scott," he said, holding the shirt out, "Scott McCall."
"I'm Ellie," she took the shirt, staring at it hesitantly. If she changed, she would be warmer, but it would be really awkward to change into another shirt in a room with a boy - especially seeing as she wasn't wearing a bra.
"You can..." the boy - Scott - rubbed the back of his neck, cheeks colouring, "You can change through there." He pointed to one of the doors, "It's just a storage room. The toilets are all locked up now, and the doctor took the keys with him."
"Thanks," she said gratefully, taking the shirt. It was beige, with long sleeves and a brand name printed on the left breast pocket. Ellie walked to the back room.
(Scott couldn't help but follow her with his eyes. The fact that she was even talking to him was crazy, and that she'd smiled at him more than once, but she was in the next room, changing. It was the closest he'd ever been to a semi-nude girl, and that was as flustering as it was humiliating.
He saw her through the glass in the door, and he felt like a total creeper, but that didn't stop him from watching as she yanked her tank top over her head. She knotted her hair at the nape of her neck, still topless, and, his eyes widened at seeing all of that bare, pale skin. The dog made a noise, and when he looked she was giving him accusing eyes.
"What?" he muttered to it,"I didn't see anything.")
She couldn't help feeling embarrassed as she changed. It wouldn't be her first half-naked experience with another person, but the situation was strange, and he was still a relative stranger. He was a cutie, no doubt, but this was third date stuff, not first meeting.
As quickly as she could, she yanked his top down over her head and went back into the room.
Scott was busying himself with wrapping the dog's leg, concentrated, with a little line between his brows. For someone with next to no medical training, he was actually pretty good.
"Thank you," she said, coming up beside him, "Again. I feel really stupid."
"How come?" He asked, smiling at her. His hands stopped, but rested comfortingly on the animal's side.
"I freaked out," Ellie pushed her hair away from her face. She wasn't shaking, but she felt jittery, like she wanted to pace. "I shouldn't have even moved her. God, what if she'd been seriously hurt and I'd just made her worse? And her poor owners - they could have been chasing her or - God, I'm never driving again. Ever. At least not on my own."
"Hey," he ran one hand through the dog's fur, placing his other on her arm. "Totally normal. Remember Stiles? And, hell, I'd be freaked out, too. In fact, I'd probably cry, and - and be pathetic."
Ellie barked out a small laugh, then left her lips curled into a smile. "Stiles story?" she asked, feigning ignorance. "I don't remember any story. What's a stiles?" She looked up at him through her eyelashes. "But thanks. Again. You're very good at this whole comforting thing."
"Oh, yeah?" He grinned, leaning cool-y against the examination table until it moved suddenly and he jumped upright again. The dog stared balefully at him.
"Yeah." She grinned, "You're also very good at lacrosse. I used to play a bit myself, actually."
"Really?" Scott looked very pleased. "I don't - I don't even know what happened, you know? I've never played like that before."
She raised an eyebrow. "I find that hard to believe." She looked down at the dog, frowning. "So she's... good?"
He peered down at the animal, "It looks like she's going to live," he nodded. "And I'm pretty sure she'll even let you pet her now, if you want."
"Uh, no, um," she floundered, "I'm good." She took a step away from the table.
"Oh, come on," his face turned serious, but the corners of his eyes were crinkling in amusement. "You don't want her to sue. I hear this breed is very litigious."
"No," Ellie shook her head, "Dogs and I... No, just," she sighed, "I'm kind of... scared of them."
"You're scared of dogs?"
She groaned, "For good reason! My childhood was filled with horror stories about rabid dogs and mauled children!" Her father had loved dogs, and Ellie knew that he'd always wanted one, but her mother had been very against them. Molly Argent had had a terrible experience once with a rabid dog that her grandfather had kept, and had been deathly afraid of them since - that fear had transferred to Ellie.
"Wow," he blinked, "Well, I can assure you that she," he pointed to the dog, "Will not bite you."
"And if she does?"
"She will not bite you," he repeated.
Ellie made a face, but hesitantly reached her hand out anyway. She stopped before touching the fur, and, yes, her hand was shaking again, but just as she was considering pulling away again, the dog's head lifted into her hand. It nuzzled her for a moment, then curled back into herself and closed her eyes.
"You see," Scott said softly. "She likes you,"
She could feel him watching her, so she looked up to meet his eyes. He was giving her this puppy-eyed stare, his eyes big and doe brown and an almost smile touching his lips. "What?" she asked softly.
Scott blinked a rapidly for a second, almost dazed. "Sorry, you have an eyelash on your cheek."
"Oh," she bit her lip, swiping her hands over the sides of her face. "From the crying,"
His arm made an aborted motion, before lifting to run along her cheekbone, feather-light. His finger held there for a moment, just grazing her skin, before he pulled away with red cheeks.
"Thanks," she breathed, throat closing. She'd never been in this sort of situation. What the hell was wrong with her? Just two days ago she was glaring, pouting, moodily watching TV and sassing her uncle, now she was melting over boy she'd been formally introduced to less than an hour before. It was pathetic, and yet she couldn't bring herself to move away from him. "I should get home," she blurted.
"Oh, yeah, um, of course," Scott stepped back.
"No, my uncle, he'll, uh, he'll be worried," she said quickly, not wanting to make it sound like she was trying to find an excuse to leave, "He's really protective, and with everything that happened with my parents he's barely let me leave the house."
"No, I-I understand," he nodded. "Sorry. I'll walk you to your car,"
Outside, she opened the driver's side door of the Mazda, mentally coaxing herself to leave. It wasn't working awfully well; self-motivation was never one of her strong points.
"I was wondering," Scott broke the silence, "I mean, is it really family night on Friday? Or do you think, maybe you'd like to go to that party with me?"
"Family night was a total lie," Ellie frowned a bit. She could only remember telling that to Lydia and Jackson, but, hey, he was on the lacrosse team - maybe he'd asked about her.
"Is - is that a yes?" he asked hopefully.
"Yeah," she nodded. "Yeah, it's a yes."
➳
The week after that sort of flew by. Ellie spoke to Scott in English a few times, and was introduced to his best friend, Stiles, who, if the way he stared at her was any indication, had a huge thing for Lydia. The interaction went sort of like this:
Scott, looking a bit concussed, smiled goofily. "This is Stiles," he waved a hand at Stiles, who was sitting at the desk next to him. They were in English again, with Ellie turned awkwardly in her seat to face them.
"Hey," Stiles nodded to her, and gave a little salute. She smiled at him, remembering the story Scott had told her.
"Hi, Stiles," she shook his hand, grinning, "I know I should say 'nice to meet you', but I planned on not making any friends. Between Lydia and Scott, I'll be on a first name basis with the whole school by Monday. If I keep making friends I'll have to give that twenty bucks to my uncle!"
"Making friends?" Scott echoed. "I mean, yeah, friends. We're friends. Definitely." Stiles gave him an oddly sympathetic look.
"Sorry, overshare," Ellie laughed awkwardly. The bell rang, and the teacher yelled at the escaping students not to forget their homework over the weekend. "I'll see you tonight?" she asked Scott.
"Yeah, I'll pick you up at seven."
Later, she could feel excitement bubbling inside her and coating her insides. Allison was almost as bad, gushing, bouncing, yelping in joy.
After lessons, everyone gathered at the lacrosse fields. Lydia wasn't there, earlier she'd said something about getting a manicure ("Jackson's going to do great." She shrugged, "The last thing he needs is my support, it'll just go to head.")
The team gathered around Coach Finstock, and Ellie saw Scott amongst them, looking nervous. Allison sped ahead of her cousin, seeking a free spot on the bleachers. The first elimination, for some odd reason, was less popular than the practise earlier in the week, so finding space for two petite girls wasn't difficult.
Elle took a second, deliberating whether or not to wave, but she found herself doing so anyway. He smiled and waved back, but snapped his hand immediately to his side after the coach said something to him.
Finstock yelled and the team dispersed, jogging to different places in the field to begin playing. They passed the ball amongst themselves, nothing particularly interesting going on. Jackson was obviously threatened by Scott, that much was seen as he purposely tackled him to the ground when he was running with the ball.
Frowning, Ellie stood up, not missing the smirk on her cousin's face as she peered down to the field, trying to see if he was okay.
It was like another epic showdown, except now Scott had something to prove. He met Jackson in the middle of the field, standing facing different directions like they would in soccer, and held his stick ready. Anger was washing through him, and he felt the need to crush the lacrosse captain. He was just as good; he just had to prove it. He had to make first line.
He took the ball, sprinting away with it before Jackson even had time to blink. He dodged other players, weaving around them like he was born to. Adrenaline flooded his veins, sweat beaded on the back of his neck. He could do this.
I can do this.
Three of his teammates blocked his way to the goal, and, without even thinking, he jumped and flipped over them, landing expertly on his feet with a grace he had no idea he possessed. From the stands, Ellie cheered.
He made the shot, launching the ball at the net so it passed straight through the goalie's (his name was Danny, and he was Jackson's best friend) legs.
Ellie jumped to her feet, screeching in support and celebration. Allison joined her, and then they were hugging, and it was the most the girls had ever screamed.
"McCall!" Finstock shouted aggressively, "Get over here!" Scott tore his eyes away from his cheering teammates and jogged to the Economics teacher. "What in God's name was that? This is a lacrosse field! What are you trying out for? The gymnastics team?!
"No, coach," Scott shuffled his feet.
"What the hell was that?"
"I-I don't know," He stuttered, "I was just trying to make the shot."
"Yeah, well you made the shot," Coach grinned madly, "And guess what? You're starting, buddy. You made first line."
Scott's mouth dropped in shock, and everyone on the bleachers applauded. He turned to stare at them, meeting Ellie's eyes. She gave him the largest smile he's ever seen.
A feeling of pride overtook him, and, for the first time in a while, he was completely happy.
a/n Thanks for reading!
Dedicated to supernatural61314 for being my first comment on the story!
Edited 20/07/2017