Regrets (Season 2, Book 2) Stiles Stilinski, Isaac Lahey

Chapter 11: A Twist

Stiles POV

This drive to the ice rink is definitely not as light-hearted as the one last night. Even though I have been in school with Boyd since kindergarten, I realize I don't know much about him, except that he works at the rink.

"What if he's not there?" Natalie comments from the backseat, leaning forward between Scott and me. Scott wipes his mouth, revealing a grimace. The way his knee is bouncing rapidly signals he's wired, stressed, and overthinking.

"He will be," I mutter not-so-convincingly. Maybe if I say it enough, it will be true.

Scott is out of the car in a flash as soon as the Jeep pulls to a stop in the parking lot. I sprint behind Natalie, who is quicker than I remember.

Boyd is driving the Zamboni, the sound of the vehicle buzzing through the dome. The tightness in my chest releases from worry.

"Boyd!" Natalie calls out, her arms outstretched in front of her as she steps onto the ice.

"We need to talk to you!" Scott yells, walking to the center with upmost confidence. I glance down at the ice, remember the many falls I took on it yesterday. It shouldn't be as hard in my sneakers, right?

Boyd continues to move the Zamboni around in his loop, obviously ignoring Natalie and Scott. The tension in his face is clear – he knows what Scott is.

"Did he tell you everything? I don't just mean about a full moon or being out of control. I mean everything!" Scott yells even louder. Boyd rolls his eyes and twists the key out of the ignition, the rink plunging into silence.

"He told me about the hunters," he says quietly, staring ahead and annoyed.

"That's enough to say no," Natalie comments softly. I waddle slowly to stand next to her, but she doesn't notice. Her eyes are locked on Boyd.

"I just don't want to eat lunch alone every day," he comments, making eye contact with Natalie. I think of the lunchroom, everyone always sitting in the same seats, a welcome consistency. Jackson and Danny and Lydia sitting together. The rest of the lacrosse guys at another table.

Boyd in the corner, alone.

"Boyd," I surprise myself by speaking out loud. All three pairs of eyes shoot to me. "If you're looking for friends, you can do a lot better than Derek."

"That really hurts, Stiles," I jump out of my skin to see Derek coming onto the ice opposite of us. Erica trails behind, a satisfied smirk plastered on her face. Towering behind her, Isaac's eyes glisten. He winks at me, and flashes a full teeth smile to Natalie.

Fucker.

"I mean, if you are going to review me, at least lets take a consensus," he turns and looks to the two betas behind him. "Erica, how has life been since we met?"

There is an air about Derek that has completely changed. Sure, I am aware of some of the pluses of being an Alpha. But being a pretentious dick wasn't one I knew about.

"In a word? Transformative," she giggles, her shoulders back and glaring at Scott.

"Isaac?"

The giant shrugs, his leather jacket shifting against itself. "Well, I am a bit bummed to be a fugitive. Other than that, it's been great."

"Sure you are," I mutter. Isaac takes a warning step towards me. I know that I am not match for a werewolf while balancing on a block of ice, but something inside me flares up as I put my arm in front of Natalie protectively.

"So, we are enemies now, Derek?" Scott sighs. "I am not going to sit idly by while you target naïve teenagers. What are you going to do when one of them does something stupid and gets themselves killed?" The volume in his voice increases with every word.