♡ 𝙩𝙖𝙨𝙩𝙚 𝙤𝙛 𝙮𝙤𝙪 ♡
𝘤𝘩𝘢𝘱𝘵𝘦𝘳 𝘵𝘸𝘰

highschool food chain

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

DALLAS GARCIA lay across her pink duvet on her king-size bed, her earbuds popped into her ear as she gazed down at the homework before her. Her golden 'D' necklace hung from her neck and swayed back and forth as she nodded her head to the music.

Her music paused as her phone lit up with Lydia's name. Plucking out her headphones and closing her maths book, the brunette brought the phone to her ear and lay back on her soft mattress.

"I've seriously gotta get 'round to blocking your number." Dallas joked as Lydia laughed sarcastically on the other side of the line, her tone audibly annoyed. "Woah, who riled up storm Lydia?"

"Allison's coming to the party." Lydia tutted harshly while Dallas ran a hand through her hair.

The brunette sat up and quirked a brow. "Isn't that a good thing?"

"It would be if she wasn't bringing a stray." the strawberry blonde paced around her own bedroom, clearly in distress. "Apparently she ran over a dog and this Sam was there to help. She thinks he's her hero now."

"Wait, she ran over a dog?" Dallas gasped, "Well is the dog okay?"

"The dog is fine, can we get back to how our friend is being dragged down the social food chain by Sam?"

Dallas chuckled and sat up. "Okay, first of all, his name is Scott." she began. "And plus, If you can fall down the food chain, you can climb up it too. Maybe she'll make Scotty guy cool, you never know."

Lydia let out a soft sigh. "I'm appalled that you know his name." she examined her nails. "And if we become irrelevant because of this, I'm blaming you. You have to come to the party now."

She fell back onto her backside and groaned. "Why, so a bunch of lacrosse players can ask me how flexible I am? I'll pass."

She could feel Lydia's stern look through the phone. "You're coming. I doubt they'll try anything anyway, your dad is like - crazy intimidating.. And hot. Besides, Danny and Jackson are like your personal bodyguards at this point."

"Ugh, Lydia. Gross." she heard her name being called from downstairs and something about completing homework. "Fine, but I gotta bounce, my dad's grilling me about schoolwork."

"Love you," Lydia called down the phone causing the brunette to crack a smile.

"Love you too, Weasley. Don't sweat about McCall, as long as she's happy then that's all that matters. I'll see you later tonight"

Lydia let out a long, understanding sigh before responding "God, you're such a nerd." before adding. "I'll see you later."

⊱ ──────ஓ๑♡๑ஓ ────── ⊰

Scott McCall walked into Stiles Stilinski's room, feeling as high as the Heavens as the buzzcut boy gave him a relieved look. "Get in." he knocked the side of his head to invite his friend in. "You gotta see this thing. I've been up all night reading - websites, books. All this information."

Scott shoved his hands in his pockets and grinned slyly. "How much Adderall have you had today?"

"A lot. Doesn't matter. Okay, just listen." Stiles stumbled over his sentences, but was disrupted by his friend.

"Oh, is this about the body? Did they find out who did it?"

The Stilinski shook his head. "No, they're still questioning people, even Derek Hale."

Derek Hale was the man they stumbled across in the forest while looking for Scott's Inhaler. The man's family had died in a tragic fire and much like Marilyn Garcia, he was Beacon Hill's very own mystery.

"Oh, the guy in the woods that we saw the other day." Scott shrugged nonchalantly, not understanding the complexity of the situation.

"Yeah! Yes. But that's not it, okay?" he began, his hands flying around sporadically as he spoke. "Remember the joke from the other day? Not a joke anymore. The wolf - the bite in the woods. I started doing all this reading. Do you even know why a wolf howls?"

"Should I?"

"It's a signal, okay? When a wolf's alone, it howls to signal its location to the rest of the pack. So if you heard a wolf howling, that means others could have been nearby. Maybe even a whole pack of 'em."

Scott gave him a quizzical expression. "A whole pack of wolves?"

Stiles swallowed harshly and sent him a distressed look. "No - werewolves."

The asthmatic cursed under his breath and sent Stiles a bewildered look, "Are you seriously wasting my time with this? You know I'm picking up Allison in an hour."

"I saw you on the field today, Scott. Okay, what you did wasn't just amazing, all right? It was impossible."

The boy crossed his arms defensively and puffed out his chest. "Yeah, so I made a good shot."

"No, you made an incredible shot, I mean - The way you moved, your speed, your reflexes. Y'know, People can't just suddenly do that overnight. And there's the vision and the senses, and don't even think I don't notice that you don't need your inhaler anymore."

"Okay! Dude, I can't think about this now. We'll talk tomorrow." Scott attempted to leave, but Stiles grabbed him by his shoulder and forced him to face him.

"Tomorrow?! What? No! The full moon's tonight. Don't you get it?" The buzzcut boy pleaded.

"What are you trying to do? I just made first line. I got a date with a girl who I can't believe wants to go out with me, and everything in my life is somehow perfect. Why are you trying to ruin it?"

Stiles ran a hand over his buzzcut and let out a heavy sigh. "I'm trying to help. You're cursed, Scott. You know, and it's not just the moon will cause you to physically change. It also just so happens to be when your bloodlust will be at its peak."

"Bloodlust?"

Stiles scrunched up his eyebrows and replied as if it were obvious. "Yeah, your urge to kill."

"I'm already starting to feel an urge to kill, Stiles."

"You gotta hear this. 'The change can be caused by anger or anything that raises your pulse.' All right? I haven't seen anyone raise your pulse like Allison does. You gotta cancel this date. I'm gonna call her right now." he pulled his phone out of Scott's backpack and scrolled through his contacts.

"What are you doing?" Scott attempted to grab the device from Stiles but he coiled away.

"I'm cancelling that date!"

"No, give it to me!" Scott roughly grabbed Stiles by the collar and slammed him against the wall, his fist hanging centimeters away from his face. He let out an aggravated yell as he slashed one of the chairs, panting vigorously.

He watched the flash of fear strike in his best friend's eyes and took a pace backward. "I'm... I'm sorry." he stammered. "I gotta go get ready for that party."

He walked to the door, taking a look at his best friend who didn't utter a word. "I'm sorry," he repeated before sliding out the door and disappearing down the hall.

Stiles cursed under his breath and picked his chair up from the floor, but as he did his attention became less centered around Scott and more so on what Scott was becoming. Down the back of the chair was three perfect slashes. Stiles couldn't help but think that by Friday, that could be someone's neck.

⊱ ──────ஓ๑♡๑ஓ ────── ⊰

Dallas held a red, disposable cup in her hand as she observed the party. Party scenes were never really her thing, specially when her friends were too busy sucking each other's faces than talk to her.

As she tried to take a sip, Scott McCall pushed past her, almost spilling her drink over her attire. Luckily, the brunette steadied her posture and managed to catch the meek 'sorry' that left his mouth. He was stumbling and pushing past people. Normally, the Garcia would assume it was the alcohol, but she noticed that the boy seemed to be in distress - or rather, pain.

She followed him and offered her assistance. "Hey, McCall!" she cried out. "You feeling okay, buddy?"

He nodded his head, but continued barging through the crowd, bumping into Stiles, who sent his friend a worried look. "Yo, Scott, you good?"

As he reached the streets, the brunette noticed that Allison was in pursuit. She caught up with the girl and crossed her arms quizzically. "What's up with Scott?"

She opened her mouth to speak, but the revving of Scott's vehicle caused her to lose track of what she was about to say. A deep voice caused them both jump as a tall, dark figure approached from the shadows with his hands slouched in his pockets.

"Allison," he declared. "I'm a friend of Scott's... He asked me to take you home."

Dallas furrowed her brows and crossed her petite arms. "Funny, I didn't see him talk to you on the way out."

Derek flickered his eyes towards the teenager and smirked. "He texted me." he paused momentarily. "I don't mind making two trips, either. Let me take you both home."

Allison and Dallas shared a look. Allison's parents would freak if they knew she was alone at a party and Dallas wasn't in the mood to distract her father from his legal work. Jackson was supposed to be her ride home, but it seemed like he had other plans for the night.

"Fine, but I'm just letting you know... I'm not afraid to mace you."

Derek opened his car door for the two girls and nodded his head. "Ill keep that in mind."

⊱ ──────ஓ๑♡๑ஓ ────── ⊰

Stiles pounded against Scott's bedroom door in frustration before the door came to an open, Scott stood behind it soaked to the bone and panting heavily.

"Let me in, Scott. I can help."

"No!" he managed to speak through heavy pants. "Listen, you gotta find Allison."

"She's fine, all right? I saw her and Dallas get a ride from the party," he reassured his best friend. "She's fine, they're totally fine."

The newly bitten werewolf grunted as a wave of pain swept over him. "No, I think I know who it is."

"Dude, just let me in-"

"It's Derek!" he breathed out, "Derek Hale is the werewolf. He's the one that bit me, he's the one that killed the girl in the woods!"

A sick realization washed over Stiles as a heavy feeling set in his gut. "Scott, Derek's the one who drove Allison and Dallas from the party."

⊱ ──────ஓ๑♡๑ஓ ────── ⊰

Stiles ran towards Allison's house in a frantic, parking his jeep out front before violently pressing the doorbell and beating down the door with his fists. After a few moments, he came face to face with Mrs. Argent who had a stern expression across her features.

"Hi, Mrs. Argent, Um.." he stuttered. "You have no idea, but I'm a friend of your daughter's. Uh, look, this is gonna sound kind of crazy, um, really crazy, actually-"

The mother turned her back to Stiles and called out for her daughter. "Allison, it's for you!"

Allison Argent stood behind her mother and furrowed her brows at Stiles's erratic behaviour. He swallowed harshly and nodded, but the anxiety in his gut still hadn't faded.

"Allison, where's Dallas?"

She sent him an odd look before responding. "Derek dropped her off at home after me. Is there something wrong?-"

Stiles didn't respond and ran to his jeep. His heart was beating faster than he could comprehend as he dialed in the number of Dallas Garcia's number into his phone. Stiles had memorized her number from all those times during eight grade where he swore he was going to finally reveal his crush that he had on her, but never actually got around to doing it. If he wasn't so panicked, he'd pat himself on the back for how handy being a nerd with social anxiety actually was.

He raised the phone to his ear as his leg bounced nervously. After a few moments, dread started to set in. The phone had been ringing for too long.

What if Derek had killed her?

What if he had bitten her?

What if she was never found?

What if she became exactly like her mother?

What if-

"Hello?"

Stiles let out a breath of relief.

"If this is the pizza guy, you better not be asking for tips. My pizza is cold."

He let out a breathless laugh and spoke up. "No.. No pizza guy. Just me."

In her bedroom, Dallas Garcia choked on her mouthful of takeout pizza before swallowing. "Stiles?"

The boy stuttered. He was unsure how the hell someone of her status even knew his name. In his younger days, he held the biggest crush on her, one that he thought had dissolved over the years. She'd avoid him usually and ignore every conversation that he tried to spark up with her. Believe it or not, Stiles Stilinski could take a hint.

"What's up? How did you get my number?"

He cleared his throat and tried to control his jittery leg. "Uh, my dad." he mumbled out the terrible lie, "I was just calling to see if you were okay. I saw you leave with Derek and he seemed kind of sketchy."

She tried to surpass the butterflies in her stomach and wiped the lovesick grin on her face. "Uh, yeah, no. I'm fine, I had mace in my bag and I made sure he knew that."

Stiles let out an audible chuckle that made the girl weak at her knees, but she tried her best to compose herself. Stiles had eyes for Lydia - her best friend. He was simply being a good person, nothing more to it.

"Remind me to never get on your bad side."

A few moments passed before she responded. "Well, I appreciate you checking on me, Stilinski. You're a good guy."

A ghost of a smile lay on Stiles's lips. "No problem, Garcia."

As the phone call dropped, the buzzcut boy let out a breath of relief and stared down at his phone with a hint of hopefulness. He was sure what he was smiling about, but he couldn't seem to stop.

On the other hand, Dallas cursed silently. She knew how her brain would overthink everything, even the little things, but a simple phone call was not Stiles's way of exposing his undying love for her. She was too much of a lovesick mess around him to the point where it had become exhausting. Steer clear from Stiles Stilinski, she reminded herself. Who knew one of the most self-proclaimed- glamorous women in Beacon Hills had become so pent up about a boy with a buzzcut and too many hoodies to count.

Not Dallas Garcia, that's for sure. 

☆ word count:  2,501. ☆