A Fox from Beacon Hills

Chapter fourteen

"Oh, for the love of fuck-" There's a flurry of puzzle pieces through the air as I lose my balance, sending the box holding them flying. I groan in frustration as I stare at my ceiling. I'd forgotten I didn't have my foot on until I'd put all of my weight on it. Or, where it should have been. I turn my head to the side, staring at the puzzle pieces on my tails. It looks kind of, pretty? I don't often have the chance to let my tails out, what with living at home with two humans who know nothing about the supernatural. I probably shouldn't have them out now either, but I needed to feel some freedom. I lay there for a few moments, simply existing, before deciding it's probably time to live again. I sit up, puzzle pieces sliding off my body as I glance at the clock. Oh shit! I'm going to be late picking up- before I can finish my thought, my phone rings. Speak of the devil. I pick up the face call, only barely remembering to shift back to human before the camera turns on. I wince at the annoyance on his face.

"Where are you? Dad said you were picking me up today, since Roscoe isn't working." I put the phone on the bed as I pull myself up, hopping to my closet for my sheathe and sock, before grabbing my foot from where it's been since I took it off this morning.

"I know, I know, I'm sorry, I got distracted- Ow!"

"Riri?! What happened, you good?" Scott calls through the phone, masking Stiles's simultaneous exclamations of concern. I prop my phone up where they can see my chest but not my face, trying to hide my visible pain as my stump screams at me for not taking care of it. I guess I did some real damage. I start signing that I'm okay, not trusting my voice to not give away my pain, but neither of them fall for it.

"Ari, you need to take better care of yourself, first coming home drunk, now this- Mom says that you need to wash you sleeve and prosthesis daily, wait she came home drunk?!- Ari are you-" Their voices blend together, adding to my pain as I grab my phone. Scott's face is concerned as he looks at Stiles, probably still confused bout the 'drunk' stuff, while my brother's annoyed. I glance behind them, seeing a girl with long brown curls walk out the doors of the school. I've never seen her before, she must be new. Before my brother can scold me anymore, I hang up. Within seconds my phone blows up with missed calls and texts. I can feel his irritation radiating through the phone without even looking at his texts. I grab my helmet, and run into Stiles' room to grab his.

                                                                                                   ***
I pull into the parking lot and toss Stiles his helmet, which he proceeds to fumble and drop, practically jumping back up to attempt to look like nothing had ever happened. My nose still isn't up to full use, but being this close, I can smell the anger in my brother's scent. I glance at Scott for conformation, and he nods, giving me a sympathetic look as he starts his bike and drives away. As he does so, the wind pushes his scent toward me and I gag. Something about it smells, wrong somehow. I can't place it, but it doesn't exactly smell like him.

Stiles's hands wrap around my waist, and I rev my engine, shrugging off Scott's weird smell as I open up the throttle, peeling out onto the road.

                                                                                                   ***

It's been two hours, and he's barely said a word. I know I hurt his feelings by hanging up on him when he was showing concern for me, but this seems like it's going on too long. I'd considered getting a pizza (his favorite food) to earn his sympathies, but we've been eating too much fast food so I made a Mediterranean salad from Costco and Fettuccine Alfredo.

Other than asking where Dad was, he didn't say a word through the entire meal. I tried to apologize, but he just shrugged it off.

I'm washing the dishes when Stiles finally speaks. "There's a new girl at school. I think Scott likes her." I grimace as my hands touch soggy food, and I pull my hands out of the soapy water. I turn to smile at him to avoid gagging.

"Good! Maybe now he'll do something other than hang out here or go to the vet's. Melissa says she wants him doing more 'teenage things' instead of working all the time. She cute?" He grimaces at the soap bubbles that fall off my elbows as I use the air quotes. I forgot he has trypophobia.

"Kinda, I guess. She's no Lydia," He mumbles the last part and I laugh.

"What was that? Something about Ly-" His face goes bright red as he practically screams his next words, making me flinch.

"HER NAME'S ALLISON!" I turn back to my job, laughing as I nod my head. Allison. That's a good name, a strong name. I hadn't realized that my brother was still talking (going from lockbox to chatterbox in 0.5 seconds flat is a new record for him) before something he says catches my attention, and I freeze. I don't turn to look at him as I ask him to repeat himself.

"Huh? Oh, I said her name's Allison. Allison Argent." I drop the pan I was cleaning with a bang. I hear him asking me what's wrong, what happened, but I can't move, can'tthinkcan'tBREATHE! And suddenly I know I can't stay in this house a second longer. I push past him, and I hear myself say something about how I forgot something at the friend's house I stayed at.

I shift the minute I'm hidden in the trees, not bothering to do anything with my prosthesis, leaving it behind as I stumble my way- Where?- Where am I going? My legs become stronger as they push me through the trees, and I don't bother to look for people who could be in the woods with me. That was my first mistake.