Concrete Angel

10

Scott searched through the halls for his friends. "Stiles. Emma. Stiles! Emma! Has anyone seen Stiles or Emma? Stiles! Emma! Has anyone seen Stiles or Emma?"

Allison stumbled into Scott and the two exchanged an awkward smile before she said, "Uh, you were - pretty awesome out there."

"Thanks. You too. I mean - that's not what I meant."

"No, no, I - did some pretty awesome cheering. You can thank me."

"You did?"

"Totally. I went from "go, team, go," to "defense, defense," without a-a breath. I brought my A game."

"State, state, state, state-" a lacrosse player chanted.

Scott glared at his teammate, urging him to leave and he did. Chris came and led his daughter away.

"Oh, isn't that just heartbreaking?" Jackson taunted as he came up to Scott. "I bet it causes a lot of sleepless nights. You know what, though, McCall? I actually sympathize, which is why I'm gonna make this mutually beneficial. You give me what I want - and, uh, I'll help you get her back."

"What?" Scott asked.

"Well, three days makes it just in time for the winter formal. Uh, think about you taking her instead of me. And also think about all the things you have to do to get her out of some tight little dress by the end of the night. See how this could work out for everybody? Three days, McCall. Have fun."

Scott took a shower to wash the sweat off and to get clean, and after he'd done so, Danny came towards him and said, "By the way, McCall - Apology accepted."

Scott frowned. "I didn't apologize."

"Every time you got the ball tonight, you passed it to me."

"Every time I passed the ball to you, you scored."

"Apology accepted."

As soon as everyone left the locker room, the lights shut off. Scott tried the switch, but the power seemed to be out. A lacrosse ball rolled across the floor and he went to pick it up.

"Danny?" Scott called, following the lacrosse ball to find Derek. "What the hell - Thank God! Where the hell have you been? Do you have any idea what's been going on?"

Derek stared over his shoulder as Peter stepped into view, holding a lacrosse stick.

"I really don't get lacrosse," Peter said.

"It was you-" Scott began.

"When I was in high school, we played basketball. There's a real sport. Still, I read somewhere that lacrosse comes from Native American tribes and that they played it to resolve conflict. I have that right? Hm. I have a little conflict of my own to resolve, Scott. But I need your help to do it."

"I'm not helping you kill people."

"Well, I don't want to kill all of them. Just the responsible ones. And that doesn't have to include-"

"Allison," Derek finished.

Scott narrowed his eyes. "You're on his side? Are you forgetting the part where he killed your sister?"

"It was a mistake."

"What?"

"It happens."

"Scott - I think you're getting the wrong impression of us," Peter said. "We really just want to help you reach your full potential."

"By killing my friends," Scott reminded him.

"Sometimes the people closest to you - can be the ones holding you back the most."