♡ 𝙩𝙖𝙨𝙩𝙚 𝙤𝙛 𝙮𝙤𝙪 ♡
𝘤𝘩𝘢𝘱𝘵𝘦𝘳 forty-two

one-hit-wonder.

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

DALLAS KICKED THE DOOR SHUT WITH HER HEEL, blowing the hair out of her face and skimming her eyes over the seemingly empty living room. 

It wasn't as empty as she previously thought as Marilyn peeked around the corner. Her arms were crossed and her eyebrows creased slightly above her nose. Under the same light and stood with similar expressions, the two sirens didn't speak for a moment. 

"Where's dad?" Dallas was the first to break the silence as she pulled the keys from her mouth. 

Marilyn pursed her lips and dropped her gaze. "On his way home. Work."

It was pretty late - late enough for darkness to begin to seep through the glass windows. She had left the Stilinski residence the moment Stiles had turned his head and despite his attempts to call her, it was obvious the girl was still equally mad at him as she was before.

Dallas hummed and turned to return back to the safety of her room but before she could even grasp the bannister, Marilyn caught her attention. 

"He told me you're applying to law school." she frowned. "I thought you wanted to become a professional skater. It's what we always talked about."

Dallas' face held no compassion. "Skating makes me feel sick now."

Still, Marilyn persisted. "So you just dropped all of your interests? All those trophies for nothing?"

A harsh scoff left the teen's mouth before she whipped her head to the woman's direction. "You always liked the trophies more than I did, anyway. Why don't you take the box from my closet and keep them for yourself?"

"When did you become so ungrateful?"

Wow.

Fucking wow. 

Being missing for most of her life wasn't exactly something that Dallas was grateful for. 

"Must've happened around the time you decided to leave-"

The slamming of the door caught the siren's attention and dropping his briefcase, James scolded the two. "Woah, hey, what's going on here?" He hissed. "I can hear you from the driveway."

Giving him a bizarre look, Dallas crossed her arms on the staircase. "Why is she still even here?" The teen narrowed her eyes and spoke with venom towards her dad - but not directed at him. 

"Cause I'm your mother and you should really start accepting that." Marie had chosen the tough-love route. Being sweet was getting her nowhere with the adolescent girl. It was fairly obvious that not enough people had a firm tone with her beforehand. 

Clenching her jaw, she glanced to James who seemed to avoid her look. "Are you serious?"

"I'm sorry, Dallie, but she's right. I can't leave you without a mother again." James frowned. Usually, he and Dallas were always on the same page. Cut from the same tree. There was rarely a time that they hit a bump in their easy-going relationship. 

That was, until now. 

Her look turned cold and a wave of betrayal coated atop before a laugh left her lips - but it was anything but humorous. She didn't need to say anything else. They didn't deserve a response from her. Not even just a response - but a look, a word.. an acknowledgement.

Ignoring the looks of her parents, she stormed up the stairs and fell into the comfort of her room while slamming the door behind her. A few polaroid photos fell from her walls as they shook around her but she didn't pay much attention to them.

Instead, Dallas found herself at a familiar emotional point. One she had been at years prior when her mother disappeared. She had a choice to make. Be the weak, fragile, emotional wreck everybody expected her to be -

Or become the bubblegum bitch she was so very good at being.

By the way her tongue ran over her teeth and she held her head much higher than before, it had become quite clear which option was obvious - and was sweetest. 

Beacon Hills had already basked in the horror of a Siren.

But now it was going to bask in the horror of a teenage girl. 

⊱ ──────ஓ๑♡๑ஓ ────── ⊰

Dallas awoke the next day feeling a little different from her usual self. She didn't pay much thought to the missed call from Stiles and instead deleted the notification from her phone. Instead, she focused more so on Malia Tate.. and well, herself. 

Sat at her vanity, the girl glid the hairbrush through her dark hair before skipping towards her wardrobe without a care in the world. You see, she was quite careful of the things she wore. It usually had to be quite professional. Mature. Boring.

Fuck that. 

She ducked her head to the side in contemplation as she dug to the back of her closet. A tight, heart-dazzled jacket hung behind her hand. It was another one of those spur-of-the-moment decisions she made when shopping with Lydia. Pink, no doubt. 

She looked great in pink. 

No, she looked great in anything. 

Slipping it over her shoulders and pulling out the hair from her hood, she stood in her tall-length mirror and hummed in satisfaction. The Siren slung her bag over her arm and almost made it through her bedroom door before she stumbled into her dad.

"You're gonna trip at that speed," he spoke lightly but she didn't seem to acknowledge him. "Cut the attitude, I don't want to drive you to school with it."

She pushed past him and instead focused her attention on her phone. "Sorry," she replied. It was a tad sing-songy and sarcastic. "I already got a ride."

"Stiles?" he cocked a brow.

Dallie scoffed. "Danny." 

When the Siren expressed that men mainly annoyed her, it never applied to Danny. The rest, however, most definitely did. 

She jogged down the stairs and within moments, out the door. It was almost as if a switch flipped inside of her and all those petty emotions disappeared - or rather, were suppressed. 

"New semester, same bitter look. You never change, you know." Danny nudged her which she snickered at. "They're gonna label you 'most likely to end up with 100 cats.'"

Dallas joked along with her best friend. It came naturally - even when they didn't speak for a while. "No, I think I got 'most likely to get arrested.'" 

"Most likely to destroy a talented man's potential." He muttered coyly before she shoved him in the arm. 

"Most likely to destroy a man in general." she corrected as they drew closer to the school. Her bubbly demeanour came to a halt as the Stilinski's name lit up her phone. 

Holding the phone to her ear and fixing the lipgloss on her lips, Dallas answered. "Hello?"

"Are you done ignoring me?"

"Hm," she pretended to think for a second as she squinted her eyes. "No." she replied with an innocent tone before hanging up the phone and dropping it to her lap. 

"Who was that?"

"Wrong number." she cocked her head to the side before stepping out of the vehicle. She brushed the hair out of her face. It was gonna take more than a few kisses and a petty apology to make up for what he did. I did it for you. Psh, if he really thought that then he wouldn't have done it in the first place. 

Besides, it's nothing he couldn't handle, right?

⊱ ──────ஓ๑♡๑ஓ ────── ⊰

Both Stiles and Scott approached the lacrosse field with their sticks hoisted over their shoulders. "Sorry about dropping you in hot water with Dallas, by the way." the werewolf winced. He was aware of the cold-shoulder the Siren gave his best friend - especially since Stiles told him everything, sometimes for the worst. 

"Don't sweat it," he began, readjusting his lacrosse gear, "I'll make it up to her somehow. She's not that difficult.. I hope." he paused. "If you don't hear from me after today that means she probably ate me."

Scott snickered at his best friend. "Just get her flowers or something. Tell her you're sorry."

"Yeah, maybe." he dropped his head to the floor. "Also, don't worry about the whole captain thing. You got your grades up just like Coach told you to, right?"

The werewolf was careful with his footing as he replied. "Yeah, but he never told me I was back on the team. He just told me to show up to tryouts today."

"Well, Lacrosse is the least of my problems, that's for sure."

"I wouldn't count on that," Scott mumbled while glancing over his shoulder. On the field behind him was someone unrecognisable to them - more so cause he wore a mask  - but nonetheless, new. 

The teammate lunged the lacrosse balls his way as he stood in the goalie. With each swing, he caught them effortlessly. Almost better than Scott. Each throw became more aggressive and desperate but the boy didn't fail once. 

Stiles glanced between Scott and the mysterious player before dropping his shoulders defeatedly. So much for being Dallie's favourite player. 

"Who the hell is that?"

"-Nice, Liam." the teammate cheered him on. "You might just be our first ever freshman captain."

Stiles let out a large huff before nodding along. "Okay, maybe we should practice a little bit."

⊱ ──────ஓ๑♡๑ஓ ────── ⊰

Dallas lay her head on her hand while she stared blankly at the chalkboard that held multiple equations. It wasn't until Malia Tate stood in the doorway did she wave her over. 

Luckily, she took the last seat beside her so Stiles couldn't. As he walked in, the boy huffed lowly and took the nearest seat to Scott instead. However, he still held pining looks at her. 

Yet once he stared down at his phone, a notification popped up - not from his friends. 

TRIPLE HOMICIDE DEVELOPING...

"Shit."

⊱ ──────ஓ๑♡๑ஓ ────── ⊰

"An Axe murderer?"

Stiles interrupted Kira as they glid through the hallways. "A family-murdering axe murderer."

Scott shook his head in dismay. "I already heard about it."

Kira walked beside the boys as they bickered. "What? How?"

"My mom called me. She knew. We'd seen it on the news." Scott stood by his locker with an unimpressed look. 

Stiles turned to leave. "Perfect, let's go-" he awaited the two to follow but they never did. 

"We've got Econ in five minutes."

The erratic teenager sent his best friend a bizarre look. "Right, did you forget about the part about the family-murdering axe murderer?"

"Your dad told us to stay out of it, Stiles," Kira mumbled. 

"Are you guys kidding me?" he huffed back to the girl. "We're seriously not gonna do anything about it?"

Kira frowned. "Maybe we should just let the adults handle it."

As Dallas turned the corner, she set eyes on Stiles scolding the two before he met her eyes also. She made a quick u-turn and attempted to walk the other way but he had already seen her. "Y'know what, screw you guys. Dallie will be super psyched to hunt down a killer. Dallas!"

She kept walking until he eventually caught up with her. "You can't ignore me forever, Dal."  he followed her to her locker. She didn't reply but instead shoved her books inside and ignored his presence. 

"Come on, let's hunt down a killer. It'll be like a date."

Dallas narrowed her eyes and turned to him with the knock of her head. "Do you think just because I slept with you, that I've suddenly forgiven you?"

Stiles shoved his hands in his pockets and nodded. "Well, kinda. You don't necessarily scream the name of someone you hate," he spoke with a smug grin. "Not like you did, anyway." 

Dallas narrowed her eyes and continued to disacknowledge him. 

Stiles let out a heavy sigh. "Look, I'm sorry. I fucked up and I know that." he leant against her locker. "But you gotta admit you're a handful sometimes."

Dallas pursed her lips and tilted her head to the side but remained silent. 

"Hey," he pulled her by the waist. "I really am sorry. My girl not gonna cheer me on at tryouts?"

She gave him an unimpressed look and removed his hands from her waist. "Gotta cheer on the best player." the siren lured him into a false sense of security. "I wonder what rhymes with Liam." The girl hummed before pushing past him. 

"Oh, you're gonna regret that." He knew deep down she didn't really mean it as she spoke with a sarcastic tone, but even so, he felt a tinge of jealousy. "You don't actually think that, do you?" he called after her as left his view. "Dallas?"

⊱ ──────ஓ๑♡๑ஓ ────── ⊰

At tryouts, Dallas stood near the railings of the seats while Kira and Malia sat beside her. Dallas noticed her jittering and shared a look with Malia. "What's wrong with you?" The coyote raised a brow.

"Me? Nothing."

"You reek of anxiety." Malia hissed. "It's distracting."

"I think it's bullshit that I cant smell emotions. A big missed opportunity." Dallie frowned. 

"You can read minds." Kira snickered. 

"Correction, boy's minds. Have you ever actually tried that? It's traumatizing - and usually disgusting." she noticed how the conversation switched to her. "Hey, no, you're hiding something."

"Scott and I sort of had this thing happen." she paused. "But it wasn't.. much of a thing. And I'm starting to think it never was anything at all." Kira continued to blabber as she held on to the lacrosse stick. 

"What do you want it to be?" Malia pursed. 

"More," she frowned, laying her head on the net. 

Stiles readied himself as he prepared to shoot a shot in the goal, however, it landed straight into the goalie's net. Behind him, Liam snickered slightly before stepping in front of the Stilinski boy. As he picked up the ball, Stiles felt the familiar jealousy. "Maybe he's only good in the goal." he convinced himself. "You know, just totally useless on the rest of the field?"

That was proved incorrect when the boy lunged in the air and sent the ball flying into the goal. 

"Maybe he's just perfect at everything. I hate this kid!"

"You don't have to hate him." Scott mumbled. "The team needs new players."

"Dallas doesn't need anybody else to cheer for, actually." he then glanced to Scott. "What about a new team captain, then?"

This caused Scott to bend around and give him an insecure look.

Finally, it was McCall's turn. He took a leap forward and jolted the bar towards the goal, yet, it hit neither the net nor the lacrosse stick. 

It hit the metal supporters instead. 

"Nice, McCall." one of the teammates jeered.

"Hey, Garrett, shut up!" Stiles hissed back. 

The longer tryouts went on, the better Liam became. The boy never missed a single shot which made the Garcia silently wince for both her boyfriend and Scott's sake. 

Scott however, got progressively worse. 

He didn't want to, but the way Kira winced at his every move, the werewolf decided he needed a little supernatural pick-me-up.

On the opposing side of Liam's team, both Scott and Stiles charged towards the human. They successfully knocked the ball out of his hands before Coach yelled out from the field. "That's my boys!" he then nudged another player. "Those two are like sons to me."

Each round the boys successfully tackled the players down one by one with cheering coming directly from Coach Finstock. 

That was until it was Liam's turn. He dodged Stiles' oncoming attack and flew past Scott before burying the ball into the goal. He ran past Scott with a smug smirk before regrouping with his team.

While Malia copied Kira's reactions, Dallas found herself glaring at the Dunbar boy. Ego, much?

She leant forward and tapped Coach on the shoulder who was only a few centimetres in front of her. "That could just be pure luck. Don't want to start the year off with a one-hit-wonder." she persuaded him, which surprisingly, didn't seem to work that well. 

"This is practice, Garcia, no do-overs."

Malia noticed the Garcia's pleading look and aided her in the persuasion. "10 bucks on Scott and Stiles?"

Dallas nodded along. "I'd go to 20."

Stiles noticed the smile she wore on her face, more so the smile he recognised only when she wanted something, and nudged his best friend. "What are they saying?"

"They're betting on us." he huffed with a snicker. "Dallas thinks Liam's a one-hit-wonder."

Finstock glanced between the girls before glueing his eyes back to the field. "Liam, get back in there?"

That perked Stiles up as he nodded along silently with a knowing smile pulling at his lips. She could ignore him all she wanted. She'd still be the one cheering him on, team or not. 

"Yeah, he is."

Everyone returned back to their original positions as the two best friends braced themselves to charge. As the whistle blew, a small growl erupted from the werewolf's lips and he practically lunged at the freshman. He dodged Stiles' attack but Scott used his strength to tackle him to the floor. A little too rough for liking. The whistle dropped from Finstock's mouth as he ran over while the Dunbar lay groaning on the floor. 

"Don't move! Don't touch him!"

The two boys slung his arms over their shoulders as they lifted him from the floor. "I think it's my leg." he spoke in-between breaths. 

Stiles spoke over him and swallowed. "I think we better get him to the nurse."

Coach nodded along as he pointed to the remaining players. "You guys take a lap." he spoke with anger. "Run! Start running around the field!"

The team scrambled away from Finstock and onto the track as the Coach in question lifted up a ball and threw it out of frustration. "Stupid!"

Dallas could hear the ball miles before it hit, but before she could do anything about it, Kira caught it in the net of the lacrosse stick that was positioned inches from Malia's face. The were-coyote glanced up with a crazed look before Kira lowered the net. 

"Oh!" Finstock slapped his hand over his mouth. "Wow! Nice catch!"

He then considered something that he never really thought much of before. Female lacrosse players. Oddly enough, Dallas had never grilled him about it - which was unlike her. 

"Throw it back!"

Kira did as instructed and jolted the ball back to its owner but instead of beside him, the ball slammed into his stomach and sent him to the floor. He exclaimed in pain before coughing out. "Somebody ask her if she's ever played lacrosse!"

As he buried his head back down, Coach Finstock watched a whole new world of opportunities. Female Lacrosse Players. It had seemed so obvious. He had some of the best academic players sitting either on benches or cheer teams. 

No point in having a big cheer team if there were no good players to cheer for. He had to widen his horizons this year. 

And he knew exactly who to start with. 

☆ word count: 3,147. ☆

a/n: give Dallas a lacrosse stick and she's gonna hit someone with it. but also win. definitely win.