I'll Be Your Batman

Chapter 9: Stalker

God I'm a fucking stalker. Who does this? This is not normal, by any means, and yet I can't seem to leave. I want to see him.

I've been like this for a while, crouched on the edge of the woods. I left school during lunch and have been waiting for Stiles' school to let out, which lets out an hour earlier than mine.

Finally, I hear the bell ring. I wait and watch hundreds of kids burst out of the doors, but I never see him.

I wait, but he never comes. All of the cars and buses are leaving. Where could he be?

I walk out of the woods, making sure nobody notices me, and walk towards the back of the school. There, I see around 30 boys in the field playing lacrosse.

A man, the coach, whistles, and the boys huddle up.

"Alright! Today instead of focusing on plays, we are going to work on your aiming. Danny, you're goalkeeping. Everyone else, form a line."

The boys rush to make a line, some shoving each other to try and be first. One boy however, immediately walks towards the back. I soon recognized the boy to be Stiles.

I walk closer and sit in the small section of bleachers, watching the boys.

Of course, they weren't that great, they were still young, but it was entertaining to watch.

When it is Stiles's turn, I smile. He grips and twists his crosse stick and takes a deep breath. I listen in on his heart beat and hear it pounding.

Stiles twists his stick and throws the ball, which lands straight in the goalies stick.

"Wow. That was terrible. You have to go for the corners, you know that. Next up." The coach says with a sigh, shaking his head.

Stiles hangs his head and walks to the back of the line, where a boy with black curly hair pats his back.

"God I suck. I'm never going to be first line!" Stiles says.

"Stiles you're not that bad! At least you didn't miss the goal!" The black haired boy says.

Stiles doesn't say anything, just hangs his head.

Once the line is finished, the coach blows his whistle and motions for them to circle up.

"Alright. Those who got past Danny, practice is over early for you, I'm feeling gracious, don't get used to it. Those who didn't, ten laps, then you can go home."

The boys all run to the locker room, except for a few, Stiles and his friend included. They start running and I watch from the stands.

Once the boys have done their laps, they go to the bench and grab something from their bags. I soon recognize the small objects to be inhalers.

The boys start walking back to the school and I follow inconspicuously.

I wait outside the locker room, unnoticed, waiting for Stiles to come out. He does soon enough, but not the way I would have expected.

He comes out, dragged by his shirt collar by some boy. The boy throws him against the locker and rears back his fist for a punch, but it never lands. I come and grabs the kid's fist, twisting it. He moans in pain.

"Alright! Cut it out!" The boy cries. I let go of his fist, not wanting to seriously hurt him.

"Leave him alone." I growl out.

The boy grabs his wrist and runs off, leaving only me and Stiles in the silent hallway.

"What was that?" Stiles asks.