-DISCLAIMER-

I do NOT own Teen Wolf

Comment, vote, fan, and let me know what you're thinking!

DOUBLE UPDATE!!!!

*MERRY CHRISTMAS* FROM AUSTRALIA!

----------

I sat in my room later that night reading a book. After the ambulance had come and taken Lydia away, Stiles had taken me to pick my car up from the school and I had driven straight home. We had sat in silence the entire drive, and it was awkward.

Well, it was for me, since I was actually a part of our conversation earlier. I don't know why Stiles had been so quiet.

I heard a knock at my door, "I've already had dinner mum, I left some in the fridge for you," I said.

She walked in, her face plastered with a frown. "Honey, we need to talk."

I sat up straighter in my bed. "Sure, what's going on?"

"Why were you at the cemetery?"
She walked over to me, sitting down on the edge of my bed, her eyes never leaving my own.

My phone buzzed beside me, and I looked down at it, thankful for the distraction.
Isaac was calling me.

Why though?

"Riley, don't you dare answer that while I'm talking to you."
The sudden seriousness in her tone had taken me by surprise, leading to me laying my phone face up on my bedside table.
"Why were you at that funeral?"

I gulped, looking down at my lap. "Allison's my friend. I was supporting her."

"Well, that's nice of you, but that doesn't explain why the Sheriff caught you, Stiles and Scott lurking behind some statues in the cemetery."

My phone buzzed again, lighting up with Isaac's name.

I ran a hand through my hair. "We, uh, we weren't exactly officially invited. But Allison needed us there. She's having a really hard time right now, mum."

"That does't excuse your behavior lately, Riley. It's like I never see you anymore," She sighed.

Shaking my head I muttered, "I could say the same about you."

Her mouth opened to say something, but it didn't compare to how wide her eyes were. She pursed her lips, before standing up and patting down her pants.
"Go to sleep. I don't want you tired for school."

I felt regret grip at my throat and I shut my eyes, letting out a breath. "Wait, mum, I didn't -I didn't mean it like that."

"Go to sleep, Riley."
She walked out of my room, shutting the door behind her.

My phone buzzed again, and I picked it up and threw it across the room, before grabbing my pillow and screaming into it, wanting to be anyone but myself at that moment.

♡♢♤♧

Later on that night, I heard a tapping on my window. At first I assumed it had just been the tree branches being pushed by the wind.

It reminded me of that first night when Scott had been turned. The wind had been going crazy, and the tapping was unbearable.

When it didn't stop after a couple of minutes, I climbed out of my bed, rubbing my eyes groggily as I walked over to the window. I saw that no trees were hitting it and assumed I had been hearing things. It wouldn't have been the first time, that's for sure.

Just as I was about to go back to the warmth of my bed, something flew up and smacked the glass causing me to jump.

What the hell was that?

I pushed the window up and poked my head out to see what was happening. The wind blew in my face softly, cooling my skin.

Standing down on the front lawn of my house was Stiles, holding a small handful of pebbles from the garden out the front of my house.

Next time I want the boom box.

"What are you doing here, Stiles? It's really late and we have school tomorrow. And aren't you supposed to be grounded? I'm pretty sure you said your dad grounded you," I said loud enough so that only he could hear me.

God forbid my mother wake up and hear me. That conversation would not end well.

"You weren't answering your phone," He replied.

Wow, it was even starting to sound like that night. Why did everything feel the same, yet everything about our lives had changed?

I peered behind me, to see my phone still on the ground from when I had threw it across my room at the wall. "It may or may not be broken."

He gave me a strange look as he shook his head, dropping the pebbles. "Can we please talk properly? I don't want your neighbors thinking I'm a creep and or stalker or something like that."

Stifling a laugh, I agreed. I shut my window and pulled on a sweater and some flats, then I carefully opened my bedroom door and proceeded to sneak out of my house as quietly as humanly possible.

If my mom heard me, she would kill me. Especially after how that talk of ours ended. She was definitely not going to be in the best mood when it came to me for the next couple of days.

When I opened the front door, he was already waiting on my front porch.
"Come on, we'll talk in my Jeep."

"Wow, definitely not John Cusack," I said with a low chuckle, "Now you're starting to sound like a creep and or stalker."

He frowned, before he picked up on the movie reference and laughed, clasping my hand and leading me to his car. "Right. Boom box."

We climbed in, and sat there, just like on the way to my car hours ago. I was having a lot of déjà vu, and I was not enjoying it.

What did he want to talk to me about so late at night? Had he actually been paying attention to me when I had been talking to him?

"So . . ." I said slowly, dragging out each letter, waiting for him to say something.

"So," He repeated quickly.

I wiggled in my seat, turning to face him. "Do you want me to start or something? I mean, I would, but I don't really know what's going on right now, so that makes that a little hard to do."

His brows creased as he glanced at me, "No, of course it does. I'm just trying to think of how to bring this up without causing an issue."

Oh, God. He was paying attention. He knows what I was talking about. He's going to turn me down; and I haven't even asked him properly.

This was not my year.

"All right, I'm just going to come out and say it." We both seemed to hold our breath, waiting for him to say whatever he was going to say.
"Did Peter bite you?" He spat out quickly, as if the words were poison on his tongue.

The shock of his question felt like it had winded me, leaving me having trouble breathing. "What?"

That was not what I expected him to say. At all. And yet, I couldn't help but feel relieved that it wasn't what I thought it was going to be.

Hie eyebrows raised, "Are you a werewolf?"

"No!" I shouted. "No," I said again much quieter, remembering that it's late at night. "Have you seen me growing fangs or ripping out organs recently? Of course I'm not a werewolf!"

My words seemed to calm him down, and he gripped onto the steering wheel tighter, his knuckles going white as he looked straight ahead.

"Why would you ask me that, Stiles?" I inquired in almost a whisper.

"You heard them," He said just as low.

"What?"

Stiles turned to face me, "You heard the Argents talking, just like Scott had. I couldn't hear them. No one - no one human - could've heard them."

I knew he was going to bring that up again. I knew it. He always had a tendency to never let things go.

"Maybe I just have good hearing, I don't know. But I can assure you that I was not bitten by a werewolf, Stiles." I can't believe I had to have this conversation with him. Of course I'm not a werewolf!

"Maybe you were born one then," He suggested, shrugging.

That whole conversation was becoming ridiculous. I rubbed my eyes, still tired from only waking up around ten minutes ago.
"Stiles, I highly doubt either of my parents are werewolves. Plus, I have never changed on a full moon; I think I would remember something like that. Definitely not a werewolf."

"Well, something's up with you. You can't have heard them. Not if you're human, Riley."

"Stiles, I-" But he cut me off.

"Show me your wrist."
He was staring down at the gauze.

My stomach dropped. "What?" I choked out

He moved to grab my arm. "Your wrist, Riley. Show it to me."

I ripped my arm away before he could do anything. "No. It's . . . it's still sore."

Stiles decided to go for the gentler approach, reaching for me like one would reach for a baby animal. He used a soothing voice, like I had done for Lydia.
"Riley . . . show me your wrist. Please."

The way he was looking at me, how much he cared - I knew I had given up. I nodded slowly, beginning to carefully unwrap the gauze. I had splattered some fake blood from a Halloween costume a few years back for extra effect, but I guess there was pointless now.

I removed the bandaging completely to reveal the smooth, unblemished skin beneath.

A small gasp had escaped Stiles. Just as slowly, he held my wrist with one hand, running his fingers along where the wound had previously been. His eyes were squinted in concentration as he examined the skin, turning it every so often to make sure he didn't miss the oozing wound that had been there less than a week ago.

"How?" He whispered.

I felt my body quiver as I took a deep breath, sniffling a little. "I don't know. But I think Peter did. Remember what he said?"

Stiles nodded. "He said he wasn't going to waste his time offering you the bite."

"And when I asked why," another sniffle, "He was surprised that I didn't know the answer, and said that he didn't want to ruin the surprise. Whatever that means."

He slid his hand down my wrist to hold my hand. "So whatever is happening to you-"

"Peter knew," I confirmed. "And now he's dead, and I'll never know."

He leaned over the middle section of the car, circling his arms around me. I hugged him back, but I was too wrapped up in the thoughts of what was happening to me to really take notice of anything.

"We're gonna figure this out."

I nodded, pulling back a bit so I could look him in the eyes, our faces not too far apart and our arms still around each other. "You can't tell Scott. Not yet. Not with everything he has going on."

"Riley-"

"Promise me," I almost begged.

He looked like he wanted to protest, but he just ended up nodding. "I won't tell. Yet."

"Thank you. I have no idea what I would do without you," I whispered.

He smiled, "You don't ever have to find out."

He was staring at me, and I was staring back. I looked into his eyes, my own slowly trailing down, focusing on each feature. His eyes soft, breath calm, lips parted ever so slightly, no words escaping them.

I quickly looked back up into his eyes, only to see his searching my face.

Leaning in an inch, his eyes swung up to meet mine. To my surprise, he didn't shrivel away from my advance; he began to move closer.

My heart skipped a beat, and I kept growing closer to him.

Just as our lips were an inch apart, someone smacked on the glass on the passenger side door.

"Riley! Get your ass inside that house right this second!" My mother hissed, not daring to raise her voice in fear of drawing the attention of our neighbors.

My face went beet red as I untangled myself from Stiles. He looked just as embarrassed.
"I-uh-we-um-I" I stumbled for words, but I couldn't find the right ones.

My mother yanked open the door of the Jeep, grabbing my arm and pulling me out of the vehicle.
"Stiles," She said in a quiet, yet harsh voice, "I suggest you go home now, and maybe I'll consider not calling your father."

He looked at me for a moment, before nodding. My mother shut the car door, and Stiles drove off, not bothering to obey the speed limit.

"What the hell do you think you're doing?" My mother growled, dragging me inside the house. "Sneaking out of the house in the middle of the night. And where did your bandage go?" She asked pointing to my wrist. "You're pretending to have injuries now?"

She shut the front door, pushing my wrist away from her as if disgusted by me.

"Mum, I-" I stopped talking, not knowing what to say to her.

"Riley, you better start explaining right this second, because I honestly don't know what to do with you. Ever since the start of the year, you've been lying to me."

"It's complicated."

She ran a hand through her hair roughly, "I'm your mother. I want you to be able to talk to me. I'm worried about you."

"I understand that," I replied nodding.

"Good," She paused, "Then you'll understand why I'm grounding you."

"What?" I shouted. "Mum-"

"No!" She cut me off. "No more. I'm sick of hearing 'it's complicated'. So, until it's uncomplicated, you're grounded. Now go to bed."

"Mum-"

"Go to bed, or I'll find something worse than grounding you."

I stormed up the stairs to my bedroom, sure to slam the door behind me loud enough that she'd be able to hear it.

Collapsing onto my bed, I finally began to sort through the night. My mom still didn't seem to know anything, thankfully. Not too great for me however. Grounded. Just great.

And embarrassing me in front of my friend. My friend who I had nearly . . . nearly kissed.

I nearly kissed Stiles.

He nearly kissed me.

Did he actually like me? What about Lydia?
Well, it wasn't Lydia he was sitting with, it was me.

It was me.

And I had messed it up.

My one chance, and I had messed it up.

♡♢♤♧

"I'm serious," Scott exclaimed. "It's not like the last full moon. I don't feel the same."

The boys and I were walking to the boy's locker room before their lacrosse practice. I had been with them all morning, and just went with it at that point. And just my luck, Scott was talking about his relationship with Allison.

Stiles and I hadn't spoken since the Jeep. It was definitely weird. We avoided being alone with each other whenever it looked like we were about to be. Like, if Scott left, I would suddenly need to go to the bathroom, or Stiles required something from the cafeteria vending machine.

"Oh, does that include the urge to maim and kill people like me and Riley?" Stiles asked, his face deadly serious. Even when he said my name, he avoided eye contact.

My phone beeped as I received a text from Allison.

"I swear I don't have the urge to maim and kill either of you," Scott sighed.

"Well," I butted in. "Not that I'm not enjoying this conversation about you may or may not having the urge to kill us, Scott, but I have somewhere to be. I'll see you both later."

Scott said goodbye and Stiles just waved, not even looking at me as he did so.

I spun on my heel and headed towards the front of the school, where Allison had told me to meet her. At the bottom of the steps to the entrance of the school stood Allison and Lydia, talking in low voices.

"Hey, guys," I greeted them.

Lydia smiled at me. Actually smiled. "Hey, Riley. We've been waiting for you."

We. Not just Allison. We. Lydia and I were really friends, I hadn't been imagining it.
I found myself smiling, actually happy to have another friend that wasn't a boy.

We all caught up quickly, before getting down to the stuff that we actually wanted to know.

"So, you really don't remember anything?" Allison questioned.

Lydia glanced over at her, "They called it a fugue state, which is basically a way of saying, 'We have no idea why you can't remember running through the woods naked for two days.' But personally, I don't care."

I cocked my head to the side, "How can you not care?"

The strawberry blonde pulled her hands away from herself, revealing her body, "I lost nine pounds."

We all chuckled, surprised by how positive she had managed to be.

Allison's face grew serious. "Are you ready for this?"

Lydia scoffed, shrugging. "Please. It's not like my aunt's a serial killer."

Allison looked baffled for a second, before shaking it off. She let Lydia have that one, considering what had happened to her.

We all went into the school to be met with the stare of every student in the vicinity. Lydia froze, her eyes widening in embarrassment.

With a smile, Allison leaned towards her, "Maybe it's the nine pounds."

Pursing her lips, Lydia pushed her hair out of her face before strutting down the school hallway in true Lydia fashion.

Allison and I gave each other a look, before linking arms and following close behind her.
Maybe this year could get better. Hopefully.

♡♢♤♧

After spending a while with the girls, I apologized, informing them I had to leave. I wasn't going into the locker room, but I did tell the boys that I would be at practice.

I was awaiting them in the lacrosse stands, when they came out dressed in their uniforms and holding their lacrosse sticks. Their faces were very serious.
"Something happened," I groaned. "What happened?"

"There was another werewolf in the locker room," Scott whispered.

This caught my interest. "Another werewolf? Who?"

"That's the thing," He stated. "It was kind of like a scent, but I couldn't tell who it was."

Scott sat down beside me, Stiles on his other side. "What if you can get him one-on-one?" He suggested. "Would that help?"

"Yeah."

"Okay. I think I got an idea." Stiles stood up and rushed off.

As soon as he was out of earshot, Scott peered at me. "What happened between you two?"

Stay calm.
"What are you talking about," I scoffed.

"You're both acting really weird. Weirder than usual."

I didn't plan on responding, so I was highly grateful when Stiles returned.
"I told Coach you're switching with Danny for the day."

"But I hate playing goal," Scott complained.

"Remember when I said I had an idea?"

Scott sat there silently.

With a sigh, I placed a hand on his shoulder. "Put it together faster, Scottie, or we're going to be here all day."

"This is the idea," Stiles prompted.

The other boy nodded his head once, finally understanding. "Oh," He exclaimed, dragging the word out.

"There ya go!" I smiled.

Scott nodded some more, looking up at Stiles. "What's the idea?"

My head dropped into my hands and Stiles stopped what he was doing to stare at our friend.
"I seriously don't understand how you survive without me sometimes," he claimed, picking Scott up off of the bench as Coach blew his whistle.

"Let's go!" He shouted. "Line it up! Faster!"

Scott and another boy ran to the goal, while the rest of the team lined up far enough away to give them a run up. Coach tossed the first player the lacrosse ball and as soon and he caught it and started running, Scott started running also.

The two made impact, Scott knocking the other boy to the ground. I felt myself cringe when he hit him, hoping that they were both okay. Scott helped the other boy up, before almost shoving his face into the boy's chest.

Oh, my God. This is the worst thing I have ever seen.

"McCall! Usually the goalie stays somewhere within the vicinity of the actual goal," Coach told Scott.

It was happening again. I could hear conversations that I couldn't possibly be able to hear. I gulped, trying not to freak out too much.

"Yes, Coach," Scott responded.

Another player was thrown the ball, and the same thing happened again. Scott ran at them, took them down, and then awkwardly sniffed them.

He was very subtle. . .

Coach walked up to Stiles, grabbing his helmet. "Stilinski, what the hell is wrong with your friend?"

Stiles stuttered, "Uh, he's failing two classes. He's a little socially awkward, and if you look close enough, his jaw line's kind of uneven."

Coach pushed Stiles away, murmuring, "That's interesting."

I had started laughing, causing those around me to stare. I stopped, coughing awkwardly as I quietened down.

The whistle was blown and Danny caught the ball and ran towards the goals, leading to Scott bowling him over, proceeding to sniff him.

"McCall!" Coach yelled. "You come out of that goal one more time and you'll be doing suicide runs till you die. It'll be the first ever suicide run that actually ends in a suicide. Got it?"

Such an enthusiastic man.

"Yes, Coach," Scott replied.

"Coach, my shoulder's hurting," The next player claimed. Thirty-seven. Jackson. "I'm gonna . . . I'm gonna sit this one out."

Why would he sit this out? He would never give up the chance to attempt to humiliate Scott.

I glanced at the next player, whose shoulders were heaving up and down heavily. I could hear their breathing from where I sat. They sounded angry.

My eyes landed on their number. Fourteen. Isaac.

No. It couldn't be him.