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.*･｡. WAITING FOR SUPERMAN .*･｡.
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011.
KEY GAMBLING.

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——

     If there was one thing that Lois Lane hated in this world, other than endless and large supplies of water and her comic book strip name, it had to have been Vernon Boyd.

   Back when all of the teenagers in Beacon Hills were young and Lois had just moved in there, Boyd and his sister had used to play around at the ice rink when Lois and Lydia would skate — before his sister had gone missing, that is. And during those times, he had been incredibly annoying. Each and every time she saw him at the ice rink, he would try to bug her. He would stare at her the entire time that she skated, laugh when she would inevitably make some mistakes, and that made her feel insecure. Maybe it had been the passing comment he made about how she was bad at it, or how she looked funny when she fell, or maybe even about how she could have been friends with Lydia Martin already; the new girl being close to the one who had been popular since pre-k.

   She wasn't quite sure what had been the tipping point, but it had definitely tipped. A silly childhood problem had grown and she'd never quite gotten over it. Nor had Boyd — it became some sorta strange unspoken rivalry.

   Lois had soon stopped ice skating when she had been drowned in school work, and she had stopped seeing him as often. Boyd had gotten a job at the ice rink, which took up all of his spare time, she only ever had to see him in school. When they were shooting each other snarky looks in hallways, or rolling their eyes when they had to hear the other speak up in classes.

But even that was seldom.

   Brows furrowed, Lois watched as Stiles threw himself down in the cafeteria seat next to Boyd, trying to act discreet and careless but failing miserably. She scoffed when the latter offered up the keys to the ice rink and her best friend reached for them, only for them to be snatched away.

    "Do you think Boyd will even give us the keys?" Scott queried from the left of her, pouting his lips when she shook her head.

    "Stiles said he would," the girl noted, "But it's Stiles."

   Scott quirked a brow.

   "Stiles says anything."

   He thought about it for a moment, tilting his head to the side like a puppy, and then nodded in agreement. It was true — Stiles did say anything. They wouldn't have been shocked if he didn't even manage to get the keys for them, and instead came up with an elaborate, albeit stupid, plan to break in to the ice rink, and then get caught by his father and the rest of the department. It would be ice skating to prison sentence rather fast. Now that was very Stiles.

   Lois waited a few more moments, observing the pair as they bickered. Eventually she heaved a long sigh, pushing herself from her seat and marching over to where they still were. If you wanted something done, you had to do it yourself.

    "This isn't a favour, it's a transaction."

   Rolling her eyes and swiftly scooting into the seat beside her best friend, the brunette glowered, "Give him the keys, Boyd."

    "Go away, Lois."

   She scoffed, "Fat chance."

   Boyd rolled his eyes at her, trying to ignore her presence. Lois Lane had always been hard to ignore, however. Maybe that was because she was so loud.

    "I said fifty." Boyd deadpanned.

    "Really? I remember twenty..." Stiles began to ramble, acting clueless as he scratched the back of his neck. He nodded his head a few times too many, and Lois had to physically stop herself from murdering him on the spot, "I don't know— I have a really good verbal memory. And I remember twenty,"

   He continued lamely, "I remember that distinct twa sound, twa-enty."

    "I said fifty," Boys narrowed his eyes, to which Lois reciprocated easily. He crossed his arms and leant back in his chair with a small smirk, "Y'know— with the fa sound. Hear the difference?"

    "Uh—"

    "You don't?"

   Stiles cringed.

    "If you can't, I can demonstrate some other words with the fa sound." He shot, watching as Stiles quivered in his seat. Lois found his words rather dramatic, snickering at his attempt of scaring them. It only worked on Stiles, but that wasn't really a surprise.

    "Uh, no! No— I think I'm recalling it, now." As he spoke, Boyd rose a brow. Stiles slipped another twenty onto the table and reached for the keys. "Maybe I just got it confused with for-ty?"

   Boyd snatched them away, once again, and scowled. Lois couldn't blame him — Stiles was terrible at tricking people.

    "Come on, man!" He pouted.

    "Why should I?"

    "Have you seen the piece of crap jeep that I drive?"

   The larger teenager glared, and he found it difficult to remotely sympathise with the boy who actually had a car. Boyd couldn't afford that, even if he had tried.

    "You seen the piece of crap bus that I take?"

   After a few moments of silence, Lois Lane eventually huffed a breath and reached into her pocket. She grabbed onto the first ten dollar bill that she found, slamming in onto the table and standing from her seat. While she swiped the keys from Boyd with one of her hands, the other snatched Stiles by the collar of his shirt. Lois tugged him away from the situation, wanting to get out of there as soon as possible, and ready to give him a rather long lecture about promising people any money and not coughing it up when the time came that they wanted it. Plus — she had lunch to eat, and this was going to take a longer time than necessary, otherwise.

    "Pleasure doing business with you Stilinski, Lane."

   Lois turned on her heel to send Boyd a tight smile and a glare, which he mirrored with glee, before continuing in her journey back to their lunch table. She threw Stiles into his seat and tossed the keys onto his lunch tray, hearing them land with a smack!

    "Never send a guy to do a woman's job," she muttered.

   Even though it was a fair comment, Stiles looked offended as she picked up a fry from his plate and shoved it into her mouth. It was his food, but he did now owe her ten dollars.

"I nearly had him!" He objected, slamming his hands onto the table adamantly, only to quickly remove them when she sent him a deathly look. He fell back into his chair with a groan, "Come on, Lo! You know I did!" Stiles insisted, taking a fry for himself and munching on it irritation. "I totally did! He was gonna cave—"

"Oh?" Lois laughed bitterly, "He was gonna cave?"

    "Yes!"

   Humming, she began to recite his prior words, "I remember the twa sound? Twa-enty? Really, Stiles? You think you had him?"

He crossed his arms like a child.

    "I bumped it up to for-ty."

"I don't think you had it, Stiles." Finally speaking and no longer watching their argument go back and forth like a tennis match, Scott spoke up with a shy shrug. Stiles immediately snatched a fry from Lois' plate and threw it over at the boy, whom didn't respond when it hit him right on the cheek. Instead Scott sighed, wiping the ketchup away and took a bite of his burger.

"Admit it, Stiles—" she said, "If I hadn't saved you, he would've hassled you out of more than fifty."

It didn't surprise her much when he ignored what she had said and chose to launch a new conversation — one that now revolved around the night ahead. Lois rubbed her forehead in grief.

   She was bummed that she'd lost out on ten dollars for a night she probably wouldn't even go to, but she listened anyway.

"I'll pick you up right after work and we'll meet everyone else at the rink, cool?" He addressed Scott, then turned to Lois. "Luna should be back in Beacon Hills around about—" as if planned, his phone buzzed and he smiled at it fondly, "—now."

   Although mildly irritated from the previous encounter (when wasn't she irritated when Stiles was round?) Lois couldn't help but grin. It was sweet how in love her best friend was, even if it made her sick sometimes, and how happy the blonde girl had managed to make him in only a single semester. And she knew for a fact that Stiles made Luna just as happy. The pair were good together, and she was equally as excited for her friend to come back — perhaps not in the same romantic respect, but excited nonetheless. Luna had fit into their little group perfectly.

"Don't wait up for me," Lois told them, "I'm not going."

For a minute, she thought that Stiles was going to choke.

    "You— no!"

   His eyes flew away from his phone screen where he was texting Luna, now alarmed and wide as he spluttered, "I— wait, you—no, what? What do you mean you're not coming?"

"I mean that I'm not coming." She shrugged.

"But you have to come!"

"Seriously, Scott?" Not having expected it from him, she rolled her eyes and threw her bead back in exasperation. "Not you, too? Allison already gave me this lecture and I said no. I refuse to fifth-wheel on a gross love-fest — full of kissing and lovey things, when I don't have anyone! It's not happening!"

"It won't be a total love-fest—!"

"Yes it will! It completely will! For the first time in the last few months of my life, I am putting my foot down." Lois crossed her arms defiantly, "I don't want to be the only one without somebody! Even Stiles had somebody, Scott! Stiles."

Said boy frowned, "Am I that bad?"

"Look, guys— I'm not going." Lois finalised, watching as their expressions fell. "No way..."

It was then that her phone vibrated in her pocket, and she slipped it out to read the last message had been sent. Lois press her lips into a firm line, already scowling.

FROM: LYDIA           SENT: 12:45
DECIDED I CAN SPARE TIME IN MY
BUSY LIFE FOR TONIGHT.
PICK YOU UP AT 10.
READ 12:46

   Snapping the phone shut, the brunette sighed.

    "I'm going."

   Both boys cheered obnoxious, high-giving one another like silly children as the girl sank down in her seat. She wasn't happy in the slightest, but at least Lydia was going — now she wouldn't be the only single person. Lydia wasn't going on dates at the moment, so it made her feel a hit better about her current relationship status.

   Continuing to pick at her plate of fries, and cringing when Scott offered her the one that had hit him in the face, Lois allowed her gaze to drift along the cafeteria of students. Allison was sat at the opposite end, where Lois often sat with Lydia, Danny and Jackson when the king and queen had been together. Now, Jackson sat on a totally different table with Danny and Matt — someone she hadn't expected to be there, but wasn't totally confused by. If Jackson had used his camera and broken it like she had heard, it made sense, but she was dying to know what for.

   She then peered at Lydia, and then back to the lacrosse player, pursing her lips tightly as she recalled the conversation she had heard earlier. It had irritated her: the fact that Jackson thought he could speak to Lydia like that. Lois didn't understand. Why had he been so adamant that she had ruined his life?

   Before she could repeat her internal monologue to Stiles and Scott, however, she saw something that made her jaw drop.

   What the—

    "Oh my god—!" Stiles gaped, "Is that Erica?"

Unable to say anything, Lois and Scott could only nod numbly as they stared at the blonde bombshell who just entered the lunch hall, what with her heels clicking and red lips all plump. The trio were in shock. Only that morning had the girl been suffering a seizure in the gymnasium and being laughed at for only existing. She didn't mean to be rude, but Erica Reyes was a bit of a mess the last time she had seen her. How had it all changed so quickly?

Although, Lois had a feeling she knew what had changed.

   And it started with Derek Hale.

"I think so...?" Scott eventually said, knotting his brows together at the bridge of his nose. He was trying to figure it all out, "How is that possible?"

They proceeded to watch as Erica leant over a table of a nerd who spent his days in the library and grabbed an apple from his lunch, taking a seductive bite. She let out a giggle and wiped the corner of her mouth.

   It was clear that she had fully acknowledged the attention she received from the entire cafeteria, and she was loving it. Not that Lois could fault her. Erica did look amazing. Really amazing...

"What the holy hell is that?"

Lois jumped as Lydia slammed her hands onto their table, glaring at Erica. She wasn't sure when Lydia had even gotten to their table, but didn't question it — after all, she hadn't seen that look on Lydia's face since Luna had arrived in town last semester.

    "Uh—" Stiles stuttered, unable to believe his eyes. "—Erica."

   Scott, Lois and Stiles shared eye contact for a second.

   Immediately the three launched themselves from their chairs and after the girl, pacing across the cafeteria as though their lives depended on it. Lois could hear the squeak of her converse as she followed behind the boys, not as tall or as fit as either of them — they were lacrosse players, after all. Plus, Scott's asthma had gone when the whole werewolf-thing had occurred.

   Upon making it out of the cafeteria and to the main entrance of the BHH, the girl fell into the back of Scott, who steadied her as his eyes flashed amber.

    "Seriously?" He muttered.

   Having a feeling that she already knew what was out there, Lois peered over his shoulder.

    "Derek."

   Frowning as the alpha winked at them and them drove off into the distance, leaving a puff of smoke behind him, the son of the county Sheriff threw his hand up into the air. "What is he doing?"

    "He's starting a pack," Scott spoke confidently.

  "Why does he want a pack of teenagers?"

   Her question was a good one, and Scott glanced at her fleetingly.

    "I'm not sure, yet..." He said, "But we're going to find out."

——

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