'everything i've ever let go of has claw marks on it.' david foster wallace.

season 1, episode 1
wolf moon

"You called us for this?" Mal groaned, leaning back into Mrs. Bridge's chair. Neviah let out a quiet snort as her eyes flickered to Jackson. He stood by the student desks with a serious expression. God, it was embarrassing that he was this serious about this. "Seriously?"

"He's serious," Lydia added as she tapped her nails in order on the desk.

Neviah stayed silent, sitting on Mrs. Bridge's dark wood desk. Jackson texted them to meet him in the math teacher's class, classifying it as a meeting. Neviah knew letting Jackson in on how the once-trio controlled the school would end in this. But she let it slide this once since it was his first time calling one and the reason intrigued her. Not to mention, he shortened his hour-long pre-game ritual for this.

"Scott McCall is taking something," Jackson presented again, moving his hands. "No one gets that good over a two-week break, especially not McCall."

"So, what? You plan on going up to him and forcing him to answer? Maybe shove him in a locker, too?" asked Lydia without looking at him.

The couple grew slightly distant over the week. Neviah attempted to figure out why, but neither budged. They continued to appear as a couple, but when there were few eyes, it became obvious. Well, at least it was obvious to her. She knew it would fizzle out in a few days; Lydia would return to her perky self and Jackson would remain a douche.

"Exactly that. McCall's still a loser, who will piss his pants if I push him," he argued, looking at Lydia. She looked up at him, then looked at Neviah. He followed her actions. "What do you think, Nav?"

She had thought of Scott's sudden athleticism. And unlike Jackson, she cared very little about it. Scott's ability to catch and throw a ball benefited them in the long run. Beacon Hills would win another championship, and the boys would have their egos boosted. However, she understood the issue of Scott possibly taking something illegal to perform better. Her mouth split to speak.

Instead of Neviah of her voice, Malikai's sounded. "If we don't check him and it turns out that Jackson's right, we lose championships. If you're going to do it, it's better to do it now."

Neviah's eyebrow quirked up in agreement. Malikai typically hated this stuff. He always viewed it as mundane, while Neviah viewed it as entertainment. Being able to say one word and suddenly someone well loved by everyone was in the shadows, or possibly playing favorites and bringing someone from the bottom of the ladder up. Like chess, she was able to strategically place everyone in Beacon Hills High School in any way she wanted. Except Neviah detested chess.

He understood the game but found little enjoyment in it.

"Do it." She waved her hand.

Lydia rolled her eyes, walking out of the classroom. She would get over it. She always did. Neviah looked over her shoulder at Mal, signaling with her eyes for him to leave. Then it was just her and Jackson.

"What are you going to do if Scott isn't on anything?"

He scoffed, crossing his arms. "He's on something, alright. There's no way-"

"Hypothetical, Jackson. Answer it." She made eye contact, making no facial change to make him feel pressured. Her fingers curled over the edge of the desk. He, like many boys, enjoyed being right and refused to accept the idea of being the opposite.

He cleared his throat. He shifted his weight on his legs. "Then, I'd figure what the hell he did to get good. Think about it, Neviah, three weeks ago he could barely ride his bike without popping his inhaler out. Now, he's suddenly able to run suicides without wanting to commit suicide."

"Do you want whatever he's on?" Neviah inquired, standing up and crossing her arms. She barely needed to look up to continue the eye contact. His eyes fluttered. "Is that why you are so insistent that he is on something? Or do you simply not want McCall to climb the social ladder?"

Jackson stared at Neviah as she moved closer to him, fear flashed in his eyes. It was interesting how much emotion could be found in the eyes. It exposed more than people realized. He straightened his head and smirked. "He's a nerd. That's where he stays."

"Good," she said, stepping away. "Go deal with it then. Tell Malikai to keep Harley away, and I'll deal with Stiles."

Saying his nickname never felt right.

"Why would you want to deal with Stilinski? Just let someone else do it for you," he suggested, watching her step out the door.

Neviah smiled. "Stiles owes me a favor."

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"This was not your favor, by the way," Neviah panted as she got off Stiles' lap. She readjusted her skirt, grabbing her phone. Ten minutes before the game. Took more time than she thought.

"What?" Stiles asked as he fixed his clothes. His voice went up in confusion. "How was texting me 'I need a favor' not my favor?"

She turned her head, leaning towards him with a smirk. He couldn't remove his eyes from her. It was so easy that she nearly felt bad. "'Cause we both got something out of it, didn't we?"

"Ri-right," he muttered, keeping his eyes on her as she moved away.

Neviah grabbed her bottle, eyeing it for a moment. It was a habit; grabbing the plastic bottle, unscrewing the cap, letting it pour down her throat. Sometimes it was involuntary. It eased her nerves. Her medication might've done the same if she took them but that would mean she couldn't drink.

A phone rang, interrupting her thoughts. She decided against the drink. Maybe today would be the day Mal and Lydia always looked forward to. Stiles snatched his phone from the front seat, answering it. It was Noah. She tuned out the conversation. She saw no point in caring about Stiles' odd obsession with his father's most certainly confidential work.

Not like she could fault him. She found herself enthralled with people's lives. All it took was for her to search for the right things and suddenly she knew everything. It was the only thing Stiles and her had in common: their skills learned from their fathers. At least she used it for less disturbing research.

"Wolf hairs!?" he shouted, causing Neviah to jump. Fear drenched his face. Stiles rushed to end the conversation, claiming that he needed to get to the game quickly. "I need to go tell Scott. Holy shit!"

"You're freaking out over wolf hairs?" she chuckled, grabbing her things.

He stared at Neviah as if she asked him, "Is Luke Skywalker the son of Darth Vader?"

"Yes! That means I was actually right."

"Right about what?"

"Scott being a werewolf."

A laugh bubbled out of Neviah. Genuine and nice. He watched her laugh, some parts confused and some parts feeling things he tried to suppress.

"God," she inhaled, "That's fucking hilarious, Mieczysław." He only stared. "You're serious?"

The question of the day it seemed.

"The wolf hairs confirm it, Neviah," he said, speaking the same way Jackson did prior. No, it wasn't the same way. Jackson spoke of his theory of Scott's new enhancements as a way to possibly use for himself. Stiles spoke of it with fear laced with excitement because he cared about Scott and because he was Stiles. He didn't desire power. He was good. Unlike the rest of them.

She winced. A jolt of pain shot in her head. "Whatever, just wait five minutes before telling Scott he's turning into a furry."

Neviah left Stiles to his own anxious thoughts. Her heels clicked on the pavement as she rubbed the right side of her temple. She hadn't had a headache like this in months. She thought the other day was just a single wave, then here she was being proved wrong. An annoying ache that squeezed her brain, sending coordinated attacks to certain parts of her brain.

In moments like this, she would just reach for the liquor. It numbed the aches for a while, then she'd deal with a lighter version the following morning. But, hell, why not attempt to be sober?

Her phone buzzed. Jackson.

he says hes not on anything

dumbass thought i was talking abt orange juice

Not surprising. Neviah knew Scott wasn't on anything because she knew him. He was the scared boy who hated walking to the nearest gas station for snacks as the sun set when they were younger. Of course, he slowly grew up, pushing his line of comfort further away. He stayed friends with Chaos Junkies 1 and 2. But he wouldn't dare destroy himself.

Now, it was time for the final show. All the pieces were placed as Neviah wanted. A few things weren't exactly perfect, but with a little nudge in the right direction Neviah's planned perfect year would start fine. A good base led to a stable home.

Thank God the game hadn't started. Neviah let out an exhale. She spotted Lydia walking with Allison. She slipped beside them.

"And where have you been?" Lydia asked in a teasing tone. She wrapped her arm around Neviah's and smirked.

There were no physical signs of Neviah being with someone; she would have Stiles killed if there were. Still, Lydia was Lydia, and Lydia always knew. She had a sixth sense for spotting Neviah's secrets.

Neviah rolled her eyes, resisting to fall for their teasing smiles. "Around, doing things to make sure people stay in their place."

"Like over you?" Lydia inquired as she stepped onto the bleachers, letting go of Neviah. Allison busted into a giggle fit. She clamped her hand to her mouth but that didn't stop it.

"No, I prefer to be on top."

Allison's bright red face made Neviah smile. The girl calmed down when she noticed Scott looking in her direction. She waved, sending a shy smile. Neviah and Lydia shared a smirk.

"So, what's going on with you and Beacon's sudden star?" Neviah inquired as she sat down, placing her elbow on her lap and propped her head up. Allison had a glow to her. Illuminated by happiness.

Lydia nudged her with a proud smile. "Someone hasn't been checking the group chat."

To be fair, there were, like, seven group chats that included the same group of people, just with or without a few. Neviah couldn't keep up. Too much dramatization and not enough entertainment.

"Scott asked Allison to the party. He charmed her by saving a dog she ran over."

"You ran over a dog?" Neviah gasped. She made a mental note to never let Allison drive her anywhere. She had a fear of being in a car accident. She refused to get her license. She only trusted her dad, Malikai, Lydia, and Jackson to drive with her in the car. The idea of anyone else would cause her to have a panic attack.

Allison looked away sheepishly. "It was an accident and the dog is fine. Scott's good with animals."

When Neviah learned Scott took a job at the local animal clinic, she was surprised. When they were younger, he had a dog, who he loved dearly. That was until he attacked him. Neviah remembered watching him play with the dog from her bike. One moment he was laughing, the next he was crying like a baby. The dog did a number on him physically and mentally.

It was so bad that Neviah wasn't allowed to have a dog just because she lived next door.

"Let's hope he's as good on the field as he is helping dogs," Lydia hummed. She could care less about who makes the team and who doesn't, but she did care about who was the best. And if Scott was the best, she needed him within close proximity. Neviah hoped it wasn't for Lydia's own needs. It was obvious Allison liked Scott and Scott liked Allison, there was no need to ruin that, especially because they were supposed to be her friends.

The players began to cheer, separating from their huddle. Coach blew his whistle and the scrimmage began. The Beacon Hills players separated in half. One side wore red, the other black. It was a simple test to determine who would be fit for the team and who would be warming the seats. Most of the team—like Stiles, Isaac, or Matt—knew they wouldn't make it on the team and already started the warming.

Mal and Jackson were placed on opposite teams like always. Mal was with Scott, which meant he couldn't give the boy a run for his money. But seeing him toss Scott the ball, ushering him to play while he guarded him, he seemed to have replaced that want. Mal wanted Scott on the team.

Yet, others didn't.

A player gained Mal's attention, allowing Jackson to sneak up. He shoved Scott down after he spun around another defender. Jackson was being cocky, using Scott's nerves against him. Seeing how quickly nervousness turned into anger in Scott made Neviah glad she stuck to swimming and cross country. She didn't need to physically assault someone to prove she was better than them.

Another round began. As soon as it started, Scott grabbed the ball and sprinted towards the net. His teammates were guarded, but Scott had no intention of passing. He maneuvered around the other team with ease. It reminded Neviah of how Mal played. Like the wind flowing between the trees in a thick forest. Or in Scott's case, a nuke locked onto a target.

Three players came together just before the net, in hopes of stopping him. Scott jumped and flipped over them as if it was nothing. He chucked the ball through the legs of the goalie. Score.

"Oh, my god," Neviah let out, leaving her hanging mouth open. She covered it with her hand. The impossible was possible.

Cheers erupted all around her. Allison and Lydia celebrated, almost shattering Neviah's eardrums. There was still something Scott was hiding. Maybe Jackson was right. Hell, there was a possibility Stiles' far-out ideas were right. Neviah needed to find out the truth.

The final piece was about to be moved. The ticking clock buzzed the nerves that wondered if a checkmate would be called. Coach shouted for Scott. "What in God's name was that? This is a lacrosse field."

Allison looked over to Neviah with worried eyes. Neviah patted her hand, shaking her head. "Just watch."

"What, are you trying out for the gymnastics team?" Beacon Hills had a shit gymnastics team. They would most likely be begging for Scott to join if he presented that show to them.

"No, Coach," Scott answered, scared out of his mind.

"What the hell was that?"

"I-I don't know," Scott answered, getting worried about what was to come. "I—just trying to make the shot."

Neviah leaned forward, grinning. Coach Finstock was her favorite for a reason.

"Yeah, well, you made the shot," Coach began. A smile grew. "And guess what? You're startin', buddy. You made first line."

"Oh, my god!" Allison exclaimed, gripping Neviah's hand. Neviah squeezed it back. The good thing about having Scott around: it obviously made Allison happy.

The crowd and Scott's team were excited. Mal took off his helmet. There wasn't a smile on his face. His jaw was clenched as he looked at the tree line. Neviah followed his gaze to find a man in a leather jacket. He had a familiar face, but before Neviah could get a good look, he was gone.

What was Malikai doing?

So, she asked him. After the game, Neviah waited in his car like usual. She made small talk, maintaining normalcy. She waited until he started to drive to ask. Leaving him ten minutes to answer to keep the atmosphere from growing tense for that entire time.

"What?" he asked, taking his eyes off the road for a moment. Worry lines were visible on his forehead. His eyes were wider than normal. He then returned them to the road.

"You don't care about lacrosse, so why were you upset that Scott made the team?" she asked, staring at him intently. If she hadn't, she would've missed his jaw shift, almost clenched. His tongue pushed against his left cheek. She knew because his lips tugged in that direction.

"I wasn't upset about that."

A lie.

Still, Neviah looked away, fumbling with the end of her skirt. Trees swizzed by, blurring into one blurb of browns. She quietly asked, "Then what were you upset about?"

Mal's hands tighten on the wheel. "...It's nothing. I got into my head during the game and that's why I got upset."

"I know when you're lying to me, Mal." After nearly two decades of being friends, she knew him like the back of her hand. But sometimes it was like she wasn't sure if it was her hand. Sometimes it was covered in lies and withheld information, and sometimes it was clear as day.

He flickered to her then to the road again and squeezed the wheel. The same pattern. He sighed. "I can't tell you everything 'cause they don't want people to know they're back in town, but this person is just bringing trouble."

A joke about him making it sound like a mystery show was swallowed before it would fester on her tongue. He wasn't joking. Whoever this person was got under his skin, and most people couldn't do that. He lived relatively unbothered to remain sane.

"The guy in the leather jacket?"

The pattern again, but quicker, almost done with a mistake. "You saw him?" His voice wavered.

Neviah shrugged, watching as he turned onto her street. The AC pushed cold air against her skin, making goosebumps rise. "He disappeared before I could get a good look." He looked...relieved.

The car pulled into her driveway with a low hum. Mal stayed silent. He was lost in his emotions and thoughts. When they were young, he got into his own head a lot. Always pondering on the little things and letting them take over his mind. He grew out of it, but obviously not all the way.

Neviah stepped out and closed the door. She leaned in the open window with her chin in her arms. She told him softly, "Just don't get in trouble or killed because of this guy."

His mouth twitched in amusement. He nodded. She just wanted him safe. He knew how to handle himself, better than Neviah believed some days.

"But, I mean, dying 'cause of a douche in leather would be kind of funny."

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this chapter is so short for it to have so much going on.

we are actually nearing the end of episode 1 (thank god, im tired of writing this episode). we are going to be getting into some important things in the next chapter, so im very excited for that.

i absolutely love this chapter, definitely not my favorite but i love it. i love the way neviah leads effortless and everyone around her follows. there's a lot of important things in that alone, but i have to hold back and wait for future chapters to talk about it.

i hope you guys liked this chapter. give me your thoughts, theories and random comments. thank you for reading

Edited: 11/13/2024