Pulchritudinous Insanity || Derek Hale

Chapter 04|| Expect the Unexpected

January 17th, 2011
Beacon Hills High School

I waltzed into the boys' locker room, barely batting an eye at the half-naked boys roaming around. I'd been on the team for four years now, so the only ones who weren't used to me coming in here were the new freshmen who just joined the team.

Making my way over to Scott and Stiles, I heard them talking about Allison—well, more her father. "Allison father..." Stiles had started as I got there.

"Shot me... with a crossbow," Scott finished, looking up dazed at the thought of it.

"Her father?" Stiles asked again.

"Yes! Allison's father!" Scott finally snapped, beginning to freak out. Stiles grabbed him by his shoulders and began spewing a string of consoling words as a means to get him out onto the field.

"He probably didn't recognize you anyway, so just forget about it. Focus on lacrosse," Stiles eventually told him.

"How can I forget about it?" Scott exasperated, but it still seemed to get my brother moving just a teensy bit faster all the same.

"You're gonna tell me later, right?" I whispered in Stiles' ear as we exited the locker room.

"Oh, totally," he responded with a mischievous grin, not even attempting to speak quietly for Scott's sake.

"Good." I gave him an 'OK' sign with my fingers and a grin, branching off to go stand with Riley and Holden while Coach spoke to us.

★

Nearing the end of practice, we stood in a line waiting for our turn with the drill we were currently doing, Scott's turn coming up next. Coach called him up after the player in front of him finished, and Scott began running towards the goal. But Jackson, being the defense, effortlessly tossed him to the ground. It was kind of pathetic on Scott's part if I'm being honest.

"Hey, McCall," Coach called, sauntering over to him. "My grandma can run faster than that, and she's dead. Do you think you could run faster than the lifeless corpse of my dead grandmother?" He taunted in Scott's face, and as Scott responded, I could tell he was getting angry.

Scott jogged back over, getting ready to do it again, and I swear I could hear him growl. This won't be good. When the shrill noise of Coach's whistle sounded, he sprinted as fast as he could. Just as I predicted, something went terribly wrong. Upon impact, a horrific yell could be heard from the injured defenseman lying with his back against the field.

Running over, I dropped to Jackson's side, moving his arm away that held his shoulder. "Jackson, I need you to tell me if you can feel your fingers," I told him. He nodded, which was better. "Great. I don't think it's broken, so that's good news. On a scale of one to ten, how much pain do you feel when I do this?" I applied some pressure with my fingers to his shoulder, causing another cry of pain to emit from the boy.

"It doesn't look good Coach, maybe dislocated. Someone should take him to the hospital as fast as possible." Coach didn't look happy, but ultimately waved his hand as if to shoo us away in approval.

As I turned back to Jackson, I noticed Stiles practically dragging Scott away from the field. Helping Jackson up carefully, I slowly took him over to Lydia who was sitting on the bleachers watching with a worried face. "Take him to the hospital; he has an injured shoulder."

She gave a barely audible response, then took my place next to the injured boy. With one last look at the field, I moved to go to the locker room but stopped when my brain registered what I saw. He was looking right at me. I scowled a few words of anger under my breath, knowing he could hear me.