'we were little animals frightened of our own mediocrity.' elena ferrante.

season 1, episode 1
wolf moon

"I'm completely serious, Allison, if I was in Gossip Girl I'd be better than Blair could ever be," Neviah boasted as the two walked out of their last class. Turns out they shared the majority of their classes—it was more of a surprise to Allison, though. The two had gotten to know each other in their time together. And Allison managed to surpass all of Neviah's expectations and criteria.

The pale girl giggled, straining her cheeks with a flushed smile that she seemed to have worn all day. "Blair Waldorf has nothing on Neviah Degrace."

"Precisely."

Neviah followed Allison to her lockers, clicking her mary janes on the vinyl floors. She sipped on her water bottle as she caught the eyes of the dumbass trifecta following her. One set of eyes strayed onto Allison with admiration, and another faltered from Neviah in an eye roll. Leaving one set of hazel eyes that dark brown ones locked onto. She never responded to Stiles' question. She didn't know how to answer it.

Her dad came home randomly, whenever he wanted. He mostly came home and went straight to sleep after a long few days of investigating various cases. He was committed to his work. Sometimes too committed. They were more like roommates than family.

Scott's brows met as he stared at Neviah's bottle. She copied his action with a slit of her eyes. He looked away.

"I was thinking we should hang out soon," Neviah asked, turning her attention back onto Allison.

"That would be fun," she said before the idea settled in her mind. "But our parents might have to meet. My mom's super suspicious of new people."

Neviah nodded, understanding protective parents from an old friendship. She caught a glimpse of red hair bouncing their way. During lunch, she gave Lydia her opinion of Allison. All good opinions, of course. That intrigued Lydia: a girl who managed to be perfect in every aspect and even impress Neviah. "That Jacket is killer, where'd you get it?"

The sudden casual conversation stunned Allison. Her wide eyes screamed at Neviah for help, but the Degrace girl shrugged, putting on a you're on your own smile.

"My mom was a buyer for a boutique back in San Francisco," she explained quickly, taking the interaction with ease.

"And you are my new best friend." Lydia turned to Neviah with mischief brewing in her smirk. "You're benched."

A warm body stuck itself onto Neviah. If it were for the smell of forest and sweat, she would've recoiled. Instead, she did that internally, sending Mal a disgusted face. "Which means Nav will have all the time for me."

Neviah plucked his arm off of her. "I'd much rather keep my sanity."

He playfully glared at her before dusting up his boyish charms as he looked at Allison. "Malikai Alexander, but you can call me Mal. Who are you?"

"Allison Argent," she said sheepishly, flickering her eyes to Neviah. She looked away. Allison would soon learn to accept that people in Beacon would run up to her without care and strike up a conversation.

Mal's lips twitched as he nodded his head. It was a small action that went unnoticed by the other girls, mostly because they didn't know him like Neviah. She added it to the list of weird shit Malikai did, sticking it in the back of her brain to pick at him for later.

Before another word could be even thought of, Jackass Shittemore appeared with his usual egotistic aura that sucked every inch of happiness out of Neviah. It might be quite a shock to know that Neviah was friends with Jackson. Behind his stupidity and God-complex, he was like everyone else, just more of a jackass. He ran his hair through his dirty blond locks, greeting Lydia with a sloppy kiss.

"Disgusting," Neviah let out, forcing down the vomit from climbing up her throat. "You two need to learn that school isn't a porno."

Jackson pulled away from the kiss with a smirk. "Are you jealous, Neviah?"

"Of course, I am." Neviah smiled, tilting her head forward. "You get to kiss Lydia publicly and I don't, who wouldn't be jealous? Though, I don't think I'd want to kiss her after her lips have probably been on that disturbing thing you call your pen-"

"Alright," Lydia interrupted, glaring at Neviah, who innocently shrugged. She stifled a smile as Mal choked on his laughter, hiding it behind his wrist and turning it into a cough. She took another sip of her drink. "Anyway, this weekend, there's a party."

"A party?" Allison repeated.

Jackson's heated stare on Neviah faltered, looking at Allison. "Yeah, Friday night. You should come."

She was quick to respond. "Uh, I can't. It's family night this Friday. Thanks for asking." A lie of course. Neviah's research on the Argent girl revealed a reservation for two on Friday at six at a restaurant in the city. But there was no proof Neviah knew that.

"You won't be missing much. It's like a live orgy at these parties," Mal explained, scrunching his nose as Neviah thought of her first Beacon Hills party. Fourteen-year-old Neviah didn't know that once she stepped into the large Whittemore home, she would immediately see three people having clothed sex on the stairs. She shuddered at the thought of it.

Despite the obvious signs that the girl didn't want to go, Jackson still pushed. "You sure? I mean, everyone's going after the scrimmage."

"You mean like football?" Allison asked innocently.

The mention of the sport triggered Jackson. "Football's a joke in Beacon."

"They suck. The sport here is lacrosse," Mal answered, being nicer than Jackson ever would be in his lifetime.

"We've won the state championship for the past three years," the junior gloated.

Lydia leaned into her boyfriend's hold. "Because of a certain team captain."

Neviah was starting to get flashbacks of that first party. Her head swirled, her neck grew hotter and she could've sworn black dots poked at her vision—oh, wait no, she was just being dramatic. Rightfully dramatic. Lydia and Jackson were more into sex than her, and she was known for the number of flings she had.

"We have practice in a few minutes," Jackson pointed out, returning to the conversation. "That is if you don't have anywhere else-"

Allison began to cut him off. "Well, I was going to-"

Only for her to get cut off. Lydia pressed her lips flat into a commanding smile. "Perfect, you're coming." The couple walked away, towards the back entrance.

"It'll be fun," Neviah reassured, walking behind them with Mal following. She left Allison with the decision that would let Neviah and Lydia know if she was going to stick with them.

No one likes a fish that doesn't show interest in bait.

But all fish are tempted.

Allison sat beside Neviah on the cold metal bleachers as a frigid breeze blew against their bodies. Winter had begun sliding down its snowy hill into the everlasting field of flowers below at a slow rate. But Neviah wasn't complaining. She enjoyed the freezing temperatures, watching her breath become visible and then fade away. Not to mention the endless number of outfits she achieved with layering, she loved winter.

"Coach Finstock is and forever will be my favorite teacher," Neviah exclaimed, clasping her hands together as she reminisced about his eccentric behavior in class and on the field. The only thing interesting besides hot people tackling each other and throwing balls at each other, was Coach's reaction to his players. "He coaches lacrosse. You're gonna love him."

"That man is two freshman classes away from full-blown crazy," Lydia butted in, inspecting her nails.

She wasn't wrong.

The whistle blew, announcing to the players to get in line for Coach to watch who would most likely be on the team and who wouldn't. It was just the first practice, but it would weed out those who weren't committed. To Neviah's surprise, Scott walked to the field. However, the Latino boy could not walk to the other players without staring at the group of girls, specifically Allison. He looked at her, finding her staring right back with googly eyes.

"Who's that?" she questioned genuinely. Allison was the face of innocence. Most likely the most innocent person in Beacon Hills. Neviah wondered how quickly the town of death would corrupt her.

Neviah pointed to the boy who was now assigned as goalie to confirm who Allison was talking about. He was a terrible goalie. Coach knew that. It was most likely to raise morale. "Scott McCall, a boy who's five seconds away from a concussion because of rapid ball fire."

Allison's questions about the boy piqued Lydia's interest. "Why?"

Allison shook her head at the girl's thoughts. "He's in mine—and Neviah's English class. And a few more, I think."

"Scotty is one of the boys you're definitely okay to be around," Neviah started, fiddling with the lace at the end of her dress. "He's too nice to hurt anyone. Whether you become his friend or something more."

She didn't miss Allison's long stares at Scott in the hallway earlier. She was interested in the boy, probably more than anyone had ever been. It would make Neviah's little mission easy to complete. They just needed a little push. Which just happened to be something Neviah was good at.

Another whistle rang, announcing to the players that it was time to show off. Scott didn't look too good. He definitely didn't look too good when the ball hit him in the face. He fell back into the goal, making everyone laugh. Neviah stayed silent.

"Hey, way to catch with your face, McCall!" a player shouted from the line.

Scott stood back up, moving a bit to loosen his body. The next player threw the ball. And Scott caught it? Beginner's luck. Had to be.

Then he caught the next one. And the next one. The other after that. And after.

His moves surprised everyone. All the laughs that were started at his first attempt were now cheering him for his catches.

Neviah narrowed her eyes. When the hell did Scott McCall get good? The boy was asthmatic for his entire life and could never make it down the street in a light jog without pulling out and using his inhaler. Suddenly, he was able to catch every ball without needing a timeout?

"He seems like he's pretty good," Allison said, entranced by the boy. If she didn't have some interest in the boy, she definitely did now.

More surprisingly? So was Lydia. "Yeah, very good."

Nothing good comes out of someone randomly becoming good on the field. Jackson pushed his way to the front of the line. Even behind his helmet, you could see his anger. He charged forward, chucking the ball at Scott.

And the McCall boy caught it. Oh, boy.

Everyone cheered, Harley and Stiles being the loudest. They screamed about Scott being her best friend. Lydia's cheers were next on the loudness scale. It only made Jackson more pissed off. It would've been perfect if he was next up.

The next person up was none other than Malikai himself. He joined the lacrosse team in his freshman year on a whim, and Coach wanted him as captain. Mal declined, saying 'Lacrosse would take up my time.' He was the Coach's winning player right next to Jackson. If he cared a bit more, he could get scholarships for the sport. But, knowing him, he wouldn't take the 'get out of Beacon quick' card even if it was the best option.

Scott looked nervous. His shoulders tensed and he tittered a bit as Mal tossed the ball. Mal, however, remained calm, like he was being asked to sing the ABCs. He wanted Scott to question his abilities. It made Neviah's lips curl up.

The Asian boy charged forward. His body and the rest of his movements were predictable. He'd toss it to the left of Scott because the boy held the stick to the right of him.

But the thing about Mal was that everything was a game to him.

He spun on his feet, tossing the ball mid-spin. The ball went so fast that Scott didn't register it until it hit him dead in the face. He was knocked down and the ball made it into the net.

"Stay humble, McCall," Mal shouted, shrugging his shoulders without a care in the world while everyone switched their cheers for him.

Neviah scoffed, smiling at her best friend. She cupped her hands around her mouth, shouting, "Show-off!"

The Alexander boy raised his middle finger at her. Coach blew his whistle, disciplining him, yet boosting his ego at the same time.

"Sorry, Coach!"

Neviah laughed, drinking again. Allison's head perked. "Can I waterfall?"

The corner of Neviah's lips twitched. Lydia chuckled at Allison's uneducated mind. Couldn't hold it against her, it wasn't exactly well known. "You sure?"

She nodded. Neviah handed her the drink, holding her smirk back. The liquid poured into Allison's throat and her face went red. She spat the liquid out in between the steps, letting out a few coughs. Lydia and Neviah laughed. "What the hell is that?"

"Vodka, Alli," Neviah answered, taking the bottle back. "Not everyone does this shit sober."

༻❁༺

Neviah held open her front door, gazing at the sight in front of her with her bottom lip slipping from the clutches of her teeth. "Didn't know you were still coming."

Stiles stood on her porch, resisting his urges to glance down at her bare legs. She stole one of her dad's shirts that ended at mid-thigh, wearing shorts that were hidden behind it. She didn't expect him to actually come. He was scared of her dad, despite Damian being the biggest softy ever. "But you're late, again, and my dad is coming home soon."

"I didn't come here for that," he said, most likely trying to convince himself more than her. Neviah raised her eyebrow. "Does your dad still have those books, y'know the ones on mythology?"

"You came here for a favor?" Neviah inquired, squinting her eyes. She inched the door closer to closing, blocking Stiles from sneaking in.

Stiles' mouth gaped, ready to say something but stutters came out. He rubbed the back of his neck. "I mean...yeah."

"Asking for a favor when you've never done anything for me, is setting yourself up for failure, Mieczysław." He knew that. He carried that look in his expression. Hesitance, slight shame, and disappointment in himself. He was desperate. More so than normal.

Neviah huffed, opening the door to allow him in. He walked in. She shut the door, making her way toward her dad's office down the hallway beside the kitchen. "Why do you need them?"

"Research," he said, making Neviah pause, glancing over her shoulder to make him continue. "On a game." Neviah rolled her eyes, entering the room.

"Anything specific?" She skimmed the bookcases filled with random novels and encyclopedias.

"Uh, lycanthropy."

A short, airy chuckle came out of Neviah's nose. She turned to Stiles. "You want information on the most basic mythological creature out there? With how much you play video games you should be way past werewolves and on to things like Leviathans." Before he could ask how she knew that, she answered, "I like nerdy boys."

More lies began spewing out of his mouth before she stepped forward, glaring at him. "The truth, Mieczysław."

A simple choice. And Stiles didn't do simple. His nickname growing up was Mischief. He didn't know anything but making a problem, causing chaos, and being a pain in Neviah's ass. She knew he would lie. That's all he knew.

"I think Scott's a werewolf," he admitted swiftly, leaning towards Neviah despite no one else being there.

"Get out."

"I'm serious, Neviah!" He argued. She let him go on. "You saw the bite, you heard how adamant he was about it being a wolf, you saw him today! That's not normal."

She blinked. A headache started at the base of her head, growing up and around. "Yeah, and neither were blue eyes and blonde hair 11,000 years ago but look at half of America now! Wolves don't exist in California. Werewolves aren't real. Your friend just experienced a miracle, you should be celebrating the fact that, maybe, for once he won't be seen as a nobody for a day."

A door opened and shut. "Neviah?"

"Get out," she whispered, pushing Stiles towards the window. The last thing she needed was for her dad to find her in his office with Stiles. He hated it when people invaded his spaces without permission, and being there with Stiles would just poison Neviah's ego.

He planted his feet. "I need the books." He scanned the shelf beside him, spotting one that said Lycanthropy. "This one."

"You need to get a hobby." She switched to tugging his arm, away from the book. He snatched it and his shoes squeaked. The two locked wide eyes as footsteps started towards the office door.

"Neviah, what are you doing in there?"

Before either of them could even think of escaping, Damian was already at the door. Neviah seized the book from his hand, holding it close to her spine. Her eyes connected with her dad's, automatically forcing an innocent look. What would a father think when he saw his daughter in a big shirt with a boy in his office? Nothing good, that's the answer.

"Stiles?" He started, speaking with ambivalence vibrating from his throat. Neviah had the urge to gulp, but she ignored it. "Neviah? What are you two doing?"

"Sorry, Daddy, Mieczysław needed a book for history. I told him to wait until you came home, but he really needed it," Neviah said without missing a beat, putting on a gentle smile.

She looked to Stiles, forcing him to play his part. He would fumble.

"Yeah, sorry. Harley was supposed to help me, but she ditched me last second," he replied quickly. It was good Damian knew Stiles was scared of him, or else this lie would've broken faster than the Kardashian's ability to turn a bad situation into a money grab.

Damian inspected them as if they were suspects of a crime. Being friends with Malikai made Neviah quite familiar with that look. It was a slight narrowing of the eyes, and tightening of the lips. Small things that no one looked for. "Which book?"

Fuck. She opened her mouth, but her voice wasn't the one to speak.

"The Odyssey," Stiles answered. Not a far-fetched lie. Definitely not one anyone but Stiles could conjure so easily.

Her dad hummed, nodding as he walked behind his desk, opening a drawer. In his hand was the Odyssey. He handed it to Stiles but didn't let him take it. "You ruin it, I ruin you." Stiles looked petrified. "I'm kidding, son, just give it back soon."

Stiles nodded, taking it. He walked to the door. Neviah followed, not wanting to deal with her dad's mouth that quickly. She closed the front door behind them, letting out an exhale.

"If you ever pull something like that again, I'll personally escort you to hell," Neviah hissed, slapping the Lycanthropy book onto his chest.

He stared at her for a moment before smiling like a weirdo. "Thank you."

Neviah clenched her jaw, opening the door. "You owe me, Mieczysław. Remember that."

༻❁༺

okay, real talk here. if you haven't noticed, most of the gifs and other graphics containing stiles/dylan  are gone. this is because I've recently learned of the actor's problematic behaviors. personally, i won't care if you still imagine actors as the characters but i will always be pushing to educate people about what they did. i want them both to apologize and own up to what they have done but the first step is making it known that their actions were harmful. i am by no means "canceling" them, i just want people to know and understand that what they did was wrong and insensitive.

for those who want to know what they did:

dylan o'brien: during the filming of one of the maze runner movies, they filmed on native land. during this time some of the crew (including dylan) stole artifacts from the land. he later did an interview where he talk about this, then joked about how they were most likely cursed because they got sick.

link to the interview: https://www.washingtonpost.com/news/morning-mix/wp/2015/10/06/actor-brags-about-looting-native-american-artifacts-on-maze-runner-set/

Edited: 11/13/2024