The Wild Side | Stiles Stilinski | One

26 - Hunter's Moon

Upon returning home, I stomped up to my room and slammed the door behind me. I needed to get my homework out of the way and prepare for the night ahead of me. I had too much on my plate to worry about Lydia right now.

To her credit, she was smart enough to leave me alone for the rest of the night. She stayed quietly in her room and worked on her own homework, though I did hear her pause outside my door on her way down to dinner. She must've made some excuse on my behalf, because no one came up to get me when it was time to eat. If they had, I would've had a time explaining the state of my room.

After I finished all my school assignments, I'd moved onto my werewolf homework. I reread a few marked chapters in my book on the moon cycle, trying to get an idea as to what we'd be dealing with later in the evening. I also reviewed the notes I'd taken on all my other library books and online articles, to save myself the trouble of rereading forty, fifty page chapters. I'd probably gone over the top, especially seeing as I had no way to verify what was real and what was fiction. On the other hand, that was exactly why I felt the need to go over the top. Read enough, and I figured I was bound to find the right answers somewhere in the mess.

At some point I'd also tried to pack a go bag of supplies I might need, but there wasn't much to include: my notebook, my lycanthropy book, and a half-empty box of bandages. Restless, I'd also decided to change from my heeled boots into a pair of high top Converse. I'd pulled my hair up, then let it back down, then pulled it up again and slid four more hair ties onto my wrists. Just in case.

Eight o'clock came and went, and I still hadn't heard from Stiles. I desperately wanted to just hop in the van and speed to Scott's house by myself, but I knew I shouldn't walk into that kind of situation blind. I called Stiles, then called again even though he hadn't picked up. I was starting to get just a tiny bit worried.

When nine-thirty rolled around, well past when Stiles had predicted Scott would be able to feel the moon's effects, I pulled out my phone to text him.

"Hey, so I don't want to sound like a nagging girlfriend, but it's pretty dark out and you still haven't texted me. You alive?"

I regretted it the moment I pressed send. Why would I compare myself to his girlfriend? Who does that?

It took a few minutes for Stiles to reply, during which time I stared at the phone and bounced my knee uncontrollably. Finally, I received a very short answer.

"Sorry. I'm fine."

Clearly, "fine" meant "not fine, but I don't want to talk about it." I didn't want to push him, but I also didn't want him to be alone with Scott, considering both of their mental states. I was worried only one of them would make it out alive—and Scott definitely had the advantage.

"Do you still want me to come over?"

Stiles's one word response came only a few seconds later.

"Sure."

"Okay. Do you need anything?"

"Could you pick up a dog bowl on your way over?"

I did a double take at the message, rereading it twice to make sure I wasn't mistaken.

"Do I want to know?"

"No."

I sighed, deciding it was probably better to leave it at that. I picked up my measly werewolf-safety bag and jogged down to my mom's room. I knocked on the door and let myself in, closing the door behind me. Mom was already in her pajamas, one of my dad's old T-shirts, tucked in bed with a puzzle book open in her lap. She looked at me over her glasses and smiled.