Afterlife {Stiles Stilinski Book One}

Chapter 6*

We have an after school practice today, so instead of getting my homework done, I am on a field with a bunch of sweaty boys. Scott is still freaked out about learning control, so he's not putting as much effort into practice. "Come on McCall! My grandmother can run faster than you and she's dead! Can you run faster than my dead grandmother?" Coach yells. 

"Yes," Scott mutters. 

"I can't hear you!" Coach replies. 

"Yes coach!" Scott yells.

Something is off. Scott's heartbeat is rapid. Did I hear a growl? Is he shifting right on the field? From the panicked look Stiles gives me, he notices it too. Before I can talk him down, Scott tackles Jackson and it doesn't look pretty. 

Scott takes off sprinting. "I'm gonna see if he's okay," I announce. I run off to follow him. Stiles isn't far behind. The noise is coming from the boy's locker room, so Scott must be in there. 

"Get away from me!" Scott shouts.  He definitely shifted, his eyes are glowing yellow.

"Scott you need to calm down," I say. I slowly approach him with my hands out in front of me. He lunges towards me. I grab him and slam him to the ground. Stiles gets the bright idea to spray us with a fire extinguisher to cool him down. 

Chills run down my spine and I shiver. "Really, Stiles?" I whip my head around to glare at him. 

"What? I panicked!" Stiles replies. 

Scott's eyes are back to brown. "What just happened?" 

"Well, you shifted on the field, lost control, and tried to kill us. Not that you would've succeeded. I'm a lot stronger than you," I explain.

"Okay, showoff. Lets get back to the matter at hand, what triggered the shift?" Stiles asks. 

"It had to be a response to what coach said. Right after he yelled at you, you turned. So, it must have something to do with anger, or maybe just the increase in heart rate. Possibly a response to adrenaline," I say. 

Scott nods. "I'm sorry for trying to kill you." 

When I start to laugh, they give me confused looks. "The first time someone has apologized for trying to kill me. It feels nice," I explain.

"If it has anything to do with heart rate, you can't play on Saturday," Stiles says. 

"But I'm first line." Scott whines. 

"Not anymore. At least not until we can get this under control." I pick up my phone from the floor. I must've dropped it when I pinned Scott. "I should go change. I'm pretty sure coach had to call practice after Jackson got hurt." 

"Oh, crap, I forgot about Jackson." Scott slaps his palm to his forehead and groans. "Do you think he's gonna be alright?" 

Stiles can barely hide the smirk on his face. "Well, he got hit with a full force of werewolf today, so he's at least a little bruised." 

The rest of the team starts filing in to change, so I slip out and change in my own locker room. 

Once I'm done, I meet everyone at Stiles' Jeep. We carpooled together again today. I guess that's a fairly consistent routine for them ever since Stiles got his license and inherited Roscoe. I get into the back and lay down in the seats. 

Stiles is all settled, but hasn't started the car yet. He's just staring at me. "What?" I ask. 

"Uh, seatbelt?" Stiles responds.