"You're exactly the kind of girl the bite is meant for."

I'm woken suddenly, those words echoing relentlessly around my head. Slowly, my bones crack as I lift myself into a kneeling position. There's blood coating every inch of the floor nearest me, but I don't feel any pain.

I remember last night all of it, being scared and frightened in the forest as the voice came from every direction. Feeling all that pain it was like death was a breath away. All that blood and the huge piece of skin ripped out of me, there's no way I was able to live through that? Why is the bite not hurting? Why does it feel like my wounds gone?

I feel for the bumps on my head but there is none, not even a slight headache. Even the scratches on my palms from the keys are gone.

I'm not crazy nor am I delusional, there's blood coating the floors to prove something happened. I smell like the forest and there's dirt all over my white shirt along with blood so that means last night was real. It has to be...

I'm suddenly sidetracked from thinking about the pain when my phone begins to blast the preset alarms for school.

I groan and stand up, glancing down at the torn white shirt once again, blood and dirt everywhere but not a single trace of a wound. Where is the bite?

I should have listened to the sheriff and agreed on him driving me home, then maybe I wouldn't feel so insane.

My phones still in my back pocket for some reason so I reach for it there, great my phone has blood on it as well, my thumb swipes against the screen quickly, trying desperately to get the blood out of the way before giving up and grabbing a paper towel to wipe of the blood off. The blood has dried in many places so I'm forced to dampen the towel to get rid of it. My phone rings soon after again and I realize it's Lydia.

Last chance to wear the outfit! Stop being stubborn and do it!
-Lydia

I look over to the kitchen clock, searching for the bright red numbers amongst the white and silver of my kitchen, My eyes find the 6:00 a.m. I have exactly an hour to change, shower, and run my ass to school. No way in hell am I even attempting to wear whatever Lydia has chosen for me. I don't feel like completely changing my social group at the moment.

There's cold air running through the entire house, my back double doors still wide open and the cold winter air seeping through. I walk over and test out my torso, still no pain. I glance outside, noticing the blood all over the white deck stands out. I live in front of the forest though, and my nearest neighbors can't see above the tall walls built once upon a time by my parents.

Cautiously I glance at the forest where hours ago I was attacked by something, I have no way to prove it though. What do I do? Everyone would certainly think I've lost my mind and send me on a one way ticket to Eichen House. This isn't an episode of supernatural but I also don't know how to explain my blood.

I'll need to clean all the blood soon and get rid of these dirty clothes. The better question is do I feel like going to school and acting normal when in reality I'm still reeling from what I think happened. No, I know it did happen but I don't have legitimate proof.

I could stay home, I could just stay in and try to figure out what the hell has happened. I can't though, if I do then I'll replay last night. I'll replay last night over and over, thinking about the pain until it's driven me unstable. And if I think about the pain, I'll think about death, and that will lead to much more buried grief I've worked hard to keep at bay because...

No.

I refuse to remember there deaths this morning, not when I have so many things to deal with already. I forget about the evidence of blood all over my porch, kitchen, and shut the back doors making sure every lock is secure. I set the alarm and double check that all the other doors are closed before running upstairs and straight to my bathroom

The torn dirt and blood stained clothes along with black converse go straight inside my small trash bin I'll throw them away on my way to school. My reflection in the big mirror in front of me is startling, there's something different. I have no clue if it's just my confused mind or the dirt and blood coating me but I come to realize I can see.

I can see without my glasses, how is that possible? I've had bad vision for years, wearing glasses since before puberty had struck. Why is it that suddenly I'm able to see ever clearer then with my prescribed glasses. Oh god, am I turning into Spider-Man?

Great, add that to another mystery of my life in the last 24 hours. Shaking my head I turn from the mirror to the shower.

I text Lydia back just as im hoping into the steaming water, diminishing any hope for her ideas.

Don't even try anymore Lydia, I'll see you after school.
-Imelda

In the ensuite I'm scrubbing my skin raw with the water boiling hot so I'm forced to think of the burning pain that is my skin but even then my thoughts still continue to question. The water swirls around, dirt and blood staining the white floor as I lean against the walls tired of my thoughts already.

What happened to me?

Where is the bite?

Where are the head wounds, I should have a severe concussion.

Who was he?

What bit me...

Why am I smelling coffee?

I rush out of the bathroom and put on my white rob but the brush that's about to run itself through my knotted hair is halted. What is that thumping sound I hear? I crane my head to listen clearer. Footsteps...Where are they coming from, they sound close but not close enough. The doorbells loud buzz answers my question, but I'm further confused. How did I hear that?

Yawning I run downstairs, about to yank the door open before I remember that being stupidly unsafe got me in trouble last time. I look through the peephole cautiously, it's Sheriff Stilinski. Glancing back I remember there still blood noticeably on the floor and if I don't want the sheriff to ask questions when I don't have logical answers I should be careful.

Shutting the alarm off, I open the door enough to block everything behind me with my body.

"Morning Sheriff," I say, a forced smile on my lips when I replay his words from last night.

"Morning Imelda, did you make it home safe?" Sheriff Stilinski ask me, his eyes are bloodshot and the smell of strong coffee becomes pronounced.

"Last night was..." I try to think of how to answer him. Should I just explain what's going on to him? No, he's going to think I'm insane," good! I managed to get home safely and fell asleep straight after!"

He nods then yawns before saying," I was worried about you last night, I was planning on sending Stiles to check on you."

An image of a buzzed cut, pale boy who slightly resembles the sheriff comes to mind before I go on," long night?"

Rubbing at his eyes he nods," yes, turns out it was worse then we thought, not to mention the idiot of my son and his best friend Scott decided to go investigate as well, I didn't catch them both but I know Scott was out there..."

Yes, yes it was way worse, my thought go back to the blood behind me. If the sheriff only knew just how grave it was...

"...anyways, I should let you finish getting ready for school! By the way, I never knew you lived on this side of town, your parents must do well!" The mention of my parents brings me back to the present.

I squeeze the door handle tighter, nodding along and tightening my jaw," yes they do."

He nods, noticing my sudden change in demeanor," okay well, I'll just let you go then. I'll see you around."

It's of his fault, he has no idea who my parents are, or were, and he won't find out. Just like anyone else in this small town, well besides Lydia, Jackson and a small group of adults, no one will ever realize who I am. They know the bare minimum, like It's no secret I live on the better side of town and my parents are never around, Lydia was just smart enough to put the pieces together. Jackson finding out wasn't a surprise, his fathers a lawyer, or esquire, as he explained to me long ago when I moved into the neighborhood.

David Whittemore, he's well, to put it frank kind of an ambitious asshole. He's persistent in representing myself and the money behind me. I use too think being an asshole was hereditary seeing as how Jackson was someone I mentally cursed out on a daily basis. Then I really got to know Jackson and realized, he wasn't an asshole, he was just like me. Albeit, more expressive then I ever am about it.

Sheriff Stilinski walks away, and I suck in a huge breath calming myself before letting go of it and saying," have a good day sheriff!"

His cop car is barely reversing out of my driveway when I shut the door and press my back against its smooth wooden surface, the sound of its slam bouncing off the empty house.

Empty. This house should be filled with laughter and the smell of pancakes in the morning, the news on the TV as my parents converse. Instead, there's blood splattered on the cherry floor, white walls, and silver appliances. I woke up looking like the woods had swallowed and then thrown me out Jesus, it seems like a seen out of Psycho.

I don't have time to clean the mess up now, no matter how much the smell is bugging me so I'm quick to get up the stairs. My phones screen is lit up, its an answer from Lydia.

If you insist on being the social outcast fine! Don't come to me when you're lonely and without a date for formal like always! I won't share Jackson!
-Lydia

Breathe Imelda... bitchy Lydia has reared her ugly head once again. Her words usually pass over me like everyone else's because she makes up for it in the end but today it seems I have a zero tolerance attitude.

Breathe... she doesn't mean it.

I brush the knots out of my hair angrily, pulling at my scalp excessively.

Social outcast...

The words now repeating in my head just like the dark mystery. Damn Lydia and her angry words, I'm irritated enough.

There's a knot in my head that's also being stubborn and refusing to cooperate, I want to give up on this day but something is pushing me forward. It feels angry, this anger pushing me to yank and harm my scalp until the knot has been taken care of. The brush, which now has tons of my hair is thrown angrily into the sink.

You're exactly the kind of girl the bite is meant for. What the hell does that even mean?

What the hell is going on? It feels like my skin is boiling with anger, sweat radiating off me from the waves of heat. I haven't felt this angry in a long time, I worked hard to put this behind me. I clutched the edges of the sink between my hands, digging my fingers into the stone until my knuckles began to burn.

I spent to many hours in therapy, there's no possible way I'm going to break now. Not today, not when it's been this shitty already.

I looked myself in the mirror, glancing at the girl with a chaotic mind reflected on her appearance. My hairs beginning to dry and the short pieces begin to stick out in every direction, the bottle of Moroccan oil hair treatment Lydia made me buy sits on the counter unused. Her instructions still alert in my mind, if I used it the frizz to my hair would be gone and I would be left with smooth perfect waves.

The skin on my face looks dry and pale, the usual tan to my skin nonexistent. I look sick and depressed which might not be that far off but do I really want to go to school like this? I never cared for my appearance before but something pushes me to reach for the bag makeup inside the nearest counter, another one of Lydia's attempts to persuade me to become a regular girl. Lydia drilled into my mind the correct format on applying make up, but I refused to ever use them

Social outcast...

Maybe I can work a little harder today, I deserve to have a better day then my previous night. It's a one day thing, that's all. And just like that I'm convinced.

Nothing to showy, I still don't want to be the center of attention but maybe today I deserve to look better.

I refuse to think about how I've let Lydia win, i broke my vow of never changing until I left Beacon Hills far behind me. Lydia will practically throw a party because of this, oh god there actually is a party Friday night. No doubt I'll be forced to go and pretend to have a fun time while Lydia and Jackson play tonsil hockey.

Quickly, I apply foundation and then bronzer, it adds much color to my face. I look better then when I woke up, much better then what usually do.

Sighing I walk towards my closet, there's rows and rows of dresses and pants that once again the Queen Lydia has actually bought with my own credit cards. I don't even know how she would do that but hey she's Lydia Martin, the genius.

Many of the clothes under white tarps already arranged into certain outfits ready to be used whenever, as Lydia put it," am ready to stop being a depressing bitch and a smoking hot babe." Yeah, whatever that meant.

My feet almost stop next to the sweats and huge shirts, my normal attire that I adore very much and no doubt will go back to wearing tomorrow. Just for today, id like to pretend I'm okay.

The outfit Lydia has picked out sits atop the long mahogany table in the middle of the room, it's not that bad, aside from the black boot heels my strawberry blonde friend has really taken me into consideration. I would have come up with this outfit because it fits just inside my comfort zone.

There's a tight white crop tight that's underneath a long white cardigan, clearly she's trying to get me out of my adoration for dark colors, and then blue denim jeans with rips at the knees. The jeans look of comfortable material and when I pull them over my legs they feel no different to sweats. Like I said earlier, Lydia Martin is a freaking genius.

Aside from the black heels she snuck into the outfit I wasn't pulling my hair out because of her outfit choice. I put the shoes back into there selected shelf and reached instead for black Timberland boots, a frustrated scream threatened to come out when I thought of my my ruined black converse. They were currently at the bottoms of my trash bin covered in mud and blood, one of them torn at the the heel.

Once I was done I grabbed my black backpack, sliding it onto one of my arms and then staring at myself in one of the long mirrors in the never ending closet. Honestly, this place could give London Tipton a run for her money if I ever used any of it.

My black hair is perfectly styled, framing my face in an attractive way rather then my usual mental patient look. Without my glasses my eyes appeared bigger and brighter, my long lashes more pronounced. The bright colors to my outfit making me much more approachable, you'd think I really did belong in Lydia's clique. I wasn't into being a follower though.

One glance at the clock on my bed and I was quick to run downstairs, I had 5 minutes to get to school. It was a 15 minute walk alone, but since I was breaking tradition no sense in not taking one of the cars. The wooden floors felt slippery under my new boots as I skidded to the garage. There are only two different cars inside my garage, one of them is covered with a giant tarp and only comes out for its monthly cleaning. Jackson almost drooled when he first caught site of it being scrubbed inside and out.

The other car, my own blue mustang, look completely ordinary but it held so many memories I refused to ever drive it until now.

I'll drive it for today, after that it's going back into the garage.

I loved this more then anything right now and if something happened to it I would literally scream. It's engine revved like music to my ears, "Ive missed you so much Andre."

This car alone uplifted my mood, I'd named it Andre when I was very young and the name had stuck.

"Let's get this day over with," I mumbled and drove away from the house of horrors. Id have to come back straight after school and clean up the mess or else the maids would have a panic attack Thursday morning.

Jackson Porsche wasn't in the driveway when I passed his house so I assumed he was already at school.

I was just about to pull out of the neighborhood when I stopped, there at the entrance was broken glass. That's where I was taken. Where are my glasses?

Are they still in the forest? Did he taken them with him? What would the man want with them?

I jumped, the sound of a horn sounding in my ears loud enough for me to grab and cover them up. Holy crap, that sounded like it was right next to my ear drums!

I looked back to see one of neighbors, angrily glancing and motioning at me to move forward. I rolled my eyes at the impatient bastard and proceeded forward. Its not my fault you're late, wake up earlier.

I drove straight to Beacon Hills High, concentration on the road and other cars.

Beacon Hills High was your basic school, there was the the popular group and everyone below them. Jackson and Lydia being right at the top even though both of them were sophomores along with me but that's what happens when they can destroy one person enough to force them out of town. Don't ask me how we became friends because it's still a shocker to me. One night Lydia shows up at my house, shoving her way through my front door mumbling something about Jackson forgetting to mention a late Lacrosse practice and the next thing you know we're sitting in my theatre room watching Sabrina the Teenage Witch on a loop. Trust me, no one is more shocked about that one then me, I think I spent the majority of the night staring at Lydia for some type of explanation.

Jackson and I's friendship is sort of fucked up though, I was sitting outside on my front lawn staring up at the dark sky on a particularly bad day, tears slowly pouring down my face and then I hear him stumbling over to me from his driveway. He was carrying a bottle of vodka in one hand and a copy of Hoosiers in the other, without him saying anything I was thrown the movie and then handed the vodka.

"You need it just as bad as I do," Jackson had slurred at me before falling to the ground beside me. I'd taken a sip of it, wiping my face of any salty tears after and then refusing to look Jackson in the face, embarrassed he had caught me in a vulnerable state.

"That time of year again?" He asked me after minutes of silence.

When my only response was to chug more of the vodka down Jackson had nodded and then gripped the bottle from my hands.

"Yeah, I know the feeling," he had mumbled back to me before chugging the remains of alcohol down.

After those simple words he had, in his drunken state, persuaded me to watch Hoosiers with him, and then we watched one of my favorites, Space Jam, both refusing to talk about anything other then basketball. I'd helped him stumble up to one of the spare rooms well into the morning, he kept repeating not to telling Lydia anything. Yeah, like I needed her giving me crap about her boyfriend.

When we woke up the next afternoon, neither of us brought up the previous night. Jackson simply left, however after those hours we had an understanding. Whenever Jackson or I would feel particularly shitty, it would be a simple call to either of us, and the rest of the night would be spent watching Space jam or Hoosiers. No explanation necessary. We both wouldn't talk about it, but we knew exactly what went on.

At school, it was different Jackson would never look at me. He never pushed me to be part of Lydia's clique though, I think he understood me better then Lydia in that aspect. In his own words I," didn't give a shit about popularity or power."

Which was mainly true, but it would have been nice not to get shit every day over my shoes. Of course, those shoes will never make an appearance again.

I pulled into the parking lot, never more thankful that my windows were tinted a dark black. Kids younger and older then me slowly walking inside the place, I can hear some of them excited and others sad to be back at school. Jacksons Porsche is parked near the bike racks, I see him walking away from it towards the other lacrosse players.

I drive straight towards the end of the parking lot, near the field, where no one parks. This was partially because I'd probably kill someone if they hit my car, but also so none of the students recognized me getting out of it. I wasn't in the mood to get asked where it was from.

Before getting out of the car and facing the student body of assholes I connected my earphones to my phone and put both buds into my ears. I turned the music all the way up, Dr. DRE rapping directly into my ears.

I begin to walk, heading towards the main entrance where inside is my first english class.

"Come on," I mumble to the earbuds,I can still hear others talking, my earphones not high enough. Hitting the button to make the volume high I watch as Lydia begins walking past some guys, towards the entrance, her clique following her.

"This is the greatest thing to happen since the birth of Lydia Martin... Hey Lydia, you look like you're gonna ignore me," some kid says, watching as she walks past him and his friend holds back a laugh at his friends expense.

Wait that's Sheriff Stilinskis son, his name is rather difficult to remember, actually no one even calls him it. Ive heard others call him Stiles though.

Poor Stiles, him and his friend aren't exactly high on the social ladder. From what I've heard and seen, Lacrosse isn't there forté. To put it bluntly, they suck ass, one has asthma and the other is a klutz on his feet.

Stiles and his friend, who I'm pretty sure is named Scott begin arguing about nerd depths when I finally discover why my earphones are so low.

I stop just as I'm entering the school and pull them out, mumbling," fucking awesome."

I'll have to get new ones sent to me, this is a small town and the nearest Apple Store is a 30 minute drive from here. A bunch of kids walk past me, hollering and screaming far to early this morning. Great, now I'll really have to deal with this shit

I sigh, this is not a good sign for the rest of my day. I knew staying home and cleaning blood out of my floors would be better then this.

My hand reaches around and pulls my backpack to the front so I can stick the destroyed earphones in there. I hear snickering as I pass by and in no time I'm stumbling over a foot.

Great as if I haven't already been beaten enough, squeezing my eyes shut I await the pain that will result from face planting into the dirty tiled floors. Without thinking my hands instinctively reach out, all my weight being transferred there until I'm doing a front flip right in the middle of the hallway full of kids.

I don't realize it's happening until I open my once squeezed eyes and see everyone staring at me, amazed. Hell, I'm amazed more then any of them. Never in my life had I been able to flip like that, I'm so surprised at my actions all I can do is look at them right back before walking faster, with my head low.

Okay seriously, what the fuck has happened. Last night I get beat and kidnapped, then bit by something or someone, then I woke up blood everywhere but no injuries, and now I'm able to do front flips? I've only heard similar stories in comic books and I'm pretty sure my name isn't Peter Parker.

I walk straight to my classroom, I can hear the people still taking about me 2 halls away. Most of them asking who I was and if I was ninja. Seriously? A fucking ninja?

Our english teach, Mr. Curtis, is tapping away at his computer. Intently staring at the screen. I look out the big windows opposite me to all the kids rushing inside.

A groan escapes my lips when I see what we are learning about, great Kafka's Metamorphosis. Mr. Curtis seriously? Where the hell will I be applying that in my everyday life?

I walk all the way to the back, taking the empty middle row desk and then dropping my head onto the desk. I felt tired, my mind was exhausted already and it wasn't even midday yet. I felt like an old person needing to sleep all day.

People started walking in, there footsteps pounding inside my head. Most of them talking about the body found last night, how beacon hills was finally getting some excitement. If they only freaking knew how exciting this town was 8 hours ago.

Stiles and his friend Scott walk in, both conversing about something I really didn't care to know. I'm honestly going insane, why is everything so amplified now? It's like having a hangover but worse. The duo of boys take a seat in front of me with one desk left open between us. I shrug my shoulders, I'd rather no one be near me right now.

What the fuck... An overpowering smell suddenly hits me, I can't describe it but the way my nostrils flare and my head suddenly starts whipping around for the source confuses me further. It smells so similar, I've smelled it before I just don't know where. There's a faint trace of blood from the odor to, where is it coming from? In front of me, Scott stretches his arms and winces once, his shirt and jacket riding up. I catch a glance of white gauze where his shirt ridden up his torso, why dos he have that? Is that where the smell of bloods coming from?

And then the scent hits me again, stronger this time, it's Scott. He carrying that confusing scent, why does it smell familiar though? I've never been near him.

"As you all know, there indeed was a body found last night in the woods and I'm sure your eager little minds are coming up with various macabre scenarios as to what happened but I am here to tell you that the police have a suspect in custody which means you can give your attention to the syllabus outlining this semester," Mr. Curtis interrupts my train of thoughts when he begins talking and I shake my head ridding myself of theories. I need to concentrate on school, I can go over my crazy ideas later.

Everyone in the class groans in unison including me at his words and the packet in front of us. I really should have stayed home.

I read over the syllabus slowly, repeating phrases 3 times until I understated them. I'm halfway through the 3rd paragraph, grasping at the names of every American author we will be reading, when a phone grasps.

I wince, the noise is loud and surprising. Who's stupid enough to have left there phone on ringer? I look up and see Scott jump just like me, both of us looking around trying to see who the idiot is? The strangest thing is that it's only us looking around for the phone, everyone either reading the syllabus or writing.

Scott's stopped searching, he's staring intently at the window. I follow his line of vision and see a girl with long, dark black curly hair sitting on one of the benches outside. She presses the phone to her ear, hitting the button the immediately stops the pestering sound.

"Mom 3 calls on my first day is a little over doing it," she says to the phone as her hands rummage through her bag, and listens in to what her mom says, before answering back,
"everything except a pen, oh my god I didn't actually forget a pen."

"What the fuck," I barely breath out, slapping my hands against my forehead.

I can't believe this, how am I listening to this? How can I hear her there are 30 feet and a glass window separating us, yet I can hear her clear as day. Oh no, I'm actually going insane.

Scott whips his head back towards me, eyes wide like he's astonished I'm also able to hear it besides him.

Her voice continues on, further adding to our conjoined hysteria," okay, okay I gotta go love ya!"

The principal walks up to her and Scott's attention goes back to the glass window, although his eyes continue to glance at me. Are we both listening to this or does he think I'm crazy and is just staring at the pretty new girl? The look on his face though, it mirrored my own.

The new girl and principal continue walking up the school, I listening in while Scotts eyes follow them.

"Sorry to keep you waiting. So you were saying San Francisco isn't where you grew up?" He asks her.

"No but we lived there for more then a year which is unusual for my family," she answers back, her pale fingers fidgeting with the loose jacket.

"Well hopefully beacon hills will be your last stop for awhile," the principal comments. I can hear their footsteps and voices getting closer as they've passed the front doors. Im almost certain they are coming to my classroom.

Scotts' head moves to the door just as my own does and in walks the same tall brunette and vice principal I was unintentionally eavesdropping on. She walks in with wide cautious eyes, surely a little scared of the mass of students giving her a once over.

The vice principal walks in next to her and loudly speaks," class this is our new student Allison Argent. Please do your best to make her feel welcomed."

He steps out immediately after and leaves the new girl, Allison, to awkwardly smile and walk down the rows of desk. Scott hasn't once stopped staring at her, even when she walks past him to sit in the seat in front of me.

As soon as she's taken her seat he turns around and hands her a pen, a crooked smile on his face. So he was listening, how are we the only 2 able to hear that?

Allison stares at the pen, she recovers from her surprise and grabs the pen whispering," thanks," to Scott.

He turns around, but I can tell Allison stares at the pen far too long. She's probably trying to figure how Scott McCall knew she needed a pen.

I almost want to snort, seems like everyone is trying to figure out something.

Mr. Curtis goes on, saying something about Kafka before I zone him out. My brows knitting together and staring at the smooth wooden desk.

I ask myself for the hundredths time, what has happened?

-------

The earbuds are back where they once were, I've figured out that they aren't broken at all, my hearings just amazingly better. Even though they seem to be on extra low, I still try to concentrate on the music while sorting out the new stack of books I've been given. Hurray for me!

A brown leather jacket suddenly stops 2 lockers away from me and I recognize it instantly. Surprise, surprise its the new girl Allison, from the corner of my eye she glances at the locker in front of her once before looking behind her. A smile breaks out on her face, no doubt Scotts pulling the trick with his brown puppy eyes and she's falling for it.

"You have puppy love, literally," I blurt out.

Allison jumps at my voice, and my eyes open like saucers. I've never spoken out so bluntly, I'm always the quiet one in the back. What has gotten into me?

Allison composes herself and gives me a friendly smile," you sit behind me in English right?"

Her questions echoes around my head, she's the first girl outside of Lydia I've ever really talked to. Don't screw this up Imelda!

Quickly I give her back a smile, although I fear it's harsh before nodding and clearing my throat," yeah I uhm... my names Imelda."

She sticks a pale, perfectly manicured hand out to me," I'm Allison, and I like your boots! They look expensive."

I look down at the black timberlands that adorn my feet and shyly look back up at her, she catches on quickly.

"Yeah maybe, they were a gift but they're comfortable," I shrug my shoulders, trying to throw her off.

She nods and then looks back at Scott who's now talking to Stiles but still glancing at Allison.

"What was that you said about puppy love?" She questions me, a bright smile on her lips.

"Oh that, ugh... I mean him, he has those puppy eyes, and he seems to like you so yeah," I quickly go over the words, knowing fully well Scotts listening in.

Allison nods, her cheeks turning pink before her eyes really start to look my face over

"Do I know you from somewh-"

She's interrupted by a brightly haired strawberry blonde with an equally bright blue blouse. Oh, here we go.

"That jacket is absolutely killer, where'd you get it?" Lydia directs her question and harsh gaze at Allison.

Allison tears her eyes away from Scott, surprised to see Lydia standing so close to her. Just like me, she falters for a moment before answers," my mom was a buyer for a boutique in Sam Francisco."

Lydia nods, pleased with the new girls answer before looking at me. Her green eyes go from bottom to top, analyzing every detail of my appearance, her fingers twirling around a piece of her curled hair.

"So I see you took my advice and finally decided to get out of homeless couture," she says, a cynical smile on her lips.

Allison tenses beside me, probably thinking this is the beginning to her worst first day ever.

I smirk at Lydia, leaning against the locker and nonchalantly answering," no I just didn't feel like dealing with bitch Lydia."

Allison besides me starts moving away, poor girl we've already scared her off.

Lydia's gives me a surprised look, not from my words but from the courage I've suddenly obtained. I only talk to her like that outside of school, I wouldn't even look at her during class before. Surprised doesn't even begin to describe how I feel right now, but I decide to go along with the sudden courage sand continue on.

"I see my little Imelda has finally grown a pair of balls, along with a fashion sense," she smiles warmly towards me," although I'm pissed you dropped the heels, those boots do make a very good substitute."

Allison looks even further confused but at least she's stopped moving away.

"Allison," Lydia breaks eye contact with me and looks to our Snow White companion," you've become my new best friend."

I laugh and look at her," good luck Allison, this ones a bit of a Regina George with a Cady Heron heart."

Allison laughs finally when Lydia looks back at me and slits her eyes, and I give her the "you know it's true don't even deny it look."

Lydia then points at me," and you've just become the best friend I actually want to be seen in public with, Imelda Drake."

I stick my tongue out at her teasingly when suddenly her own tongues down someone else's throat.

"Hey," is Jackson quick hello to his girlfriend before shoving there mouths tighter barely letting Lydia respond.

Allison looks over at me, avoiding eye contact with the couple playing tonsil hockey while I clap my hands.

"Hey! You're scaring off your new best friends!" I practically yell.

Jackson opens his eyes and pulls away first, glancing at Allison with his award winning smile... I think I just threw up saying those words.

He then looks at me, about to say a snarky comment before he really gets a good look.

Safe to say, I have to bite my lip from laughing at the wide mouthed reaction he gives me.

"Imelda?" He hesitates in asking, unsure if it really is me or another new girl.

I nod my head and silently laugh," yeah it's me."

Lydia pets his cheek, "told you she would come around eventually."

I roll my eyes at them and turn back to Allison who looks thankful that I broke up that awkward moment. Behind me I ignore Stiles and some girl talking about both Allison and I, annoyed that this sounds right in my ear.

My phone vibrates inside my pocket and I pull it out, there's a reminder alert on the screen.

¡Meeting with the counselor after school!

I really don't want to go, the counselor being the last place I want to be right now when I have to scrub the floors like Cinderella.

"Is that blood on your phone?" Jackson asks me, his eyes fixed on the edges of my phone.

"Ugh, yeah! I cut myself with a tomato yesterday... my phone was near the cutting board," I'm quick to come up with a lie.

"So this weekends there's a party," Lydia says, earning my attention as well as Jacksons.

Allison looks at me once, her eyes saying "is she for real?" Before answering Lydia," a party?"

Jackson nods and smiles at her," yeah Friday night, both of you should come."

"I-" the lie stays in my mouth when I receive a glare from Lydia.

"You're going regardless, don't even try to get out of it Imelda. I'll be at your place around 5," she cuts me off and then looks at Allison.

Allison looks scared to lie, But she manages to get the words out," ugh... I can't it's family night this Friday. Thanks for asking."

I smile and stop myself from giving her a thumbs up, she didn't waver once, even managed to throw in a hand gesture making it totally believable.

Jackson pushes further however, leaning in and intimidating Allison" you sure everyone's going after the scrimmage."

"You mean like football," she asks stupidly and I stop myself from groaning.

Oh shit, now she's going to set Jackson off on a rant. Freaking awesome, we'll be here until after hours.

Jackson find humor in her words," footballs a joke here, you're kidding. We've won the state champion the last 3 years."

Lydia, being the proud girlfriend she is butts in and adds," because of a certain tema captain."

Yeah, because there's not a whole other team helping him...

"We practice in a few minutes, that is, if you don't..." Jackson offers both of us.

"Well I was going to..." Allison begins to say another, what I presume, lie when Lydia grabs her wrist.

"Perfect! Both of you are coming!" She says and begins dragging Allison off. Lydia knows I don't like to be grabbed so instead she just pushed Allison forward.

Jackson waits for me, gesturing that I go first Lydia looks back anticipating me to walk with her, and Allison pleads with her eyes for me to follow before I show the screen to them," I can't go, I have a meeting."

Allison looks curious to know what's important when Lydia nods at me and drags Allison down the hall of blue lockers once more.

Jackson looks at me carefully, before asking," Space Jam tonight?"

I smile, grateful that he's acting nice enough for once before shaking my head softly," not tonight, I can make it tonight. Save it for the 16th."

He nods and walk away.

I blow out air from my mouth, relieved that I'm not being forced to sit on the cold ass benches and can go home now. The meeting wasn't exactly a lie, Ms. Morrell was expecting me right now, I was just planning on canceling today's session and hurrying home before anyone noticed. Besides, the women kind of scared me, she always had this look on her face like she knew me better then I knew myself which was strange even for a counselor. It had been years since the accident and she still insisted on seeing me at least once every other week. Sometimes I had to willingly go or else she would get me out of class and we would sit in her office for hours discussing various topics I had no affiliations with.

Without wasting another moment I began walking in the opposite direction, Scott McCall and I making eye contact the entire time we passed one another.

----

It took me no more then 30 seconds to run into the front office and ask the receptionist to let Ms. Morrell know I felt sick, adding a fake cough for effect, and then dashing out before the women herself heard me outside.

Now I was speed walking down the halls, keeping my eyes out for any traces of Lydia Martin.

When outside I picked up the pace, hearing the lacrosse team start lining up at the goal. Others just waking out and dropping loads of equipment. Lydia and Allison are sat directly in the middle of the bleachers, too engrossed in the mob of boys to notice me Usain Bolting it to my car. The lacrosse boys pick at their sticks and practice a little before I hear them start to get excited over the being to the season.

I'm almost near my car when the whistle blows, I barely scream out as my hands instantly cup bothmy ears. An all too familiar voice does the same as me, barely screaming but clear as day to me.

When the whistle stops and I open my eyes, taking my hands off me ears Scotts staring at me. Curious or confused I can't make out his facial expression, but his eyes are wide.

With no hesitation I pick myself back up before anyone else noticed and walk straight to my car. Scotts eyes digging a hole in my back the entire time.

He's just like me, whatever we are.

I may not know what we are but I bet he does, he has too know.

Scott McCall has to be him.

-----

Don't even freaking ask how I made this thing so long and I'm only at 15minutes...

Anyways so yeah, this chapter is mainly an inside look at Imelda's head and her changes. She still hasn't met Derek yet but I'm almost positive that's next chapter!

Please vote and comment! They are greatly appreciated!

-Ashley