The New Beta[TeenWolf]

Identification

AN: And here we go, the chapter that begins the war...

Prom.

Malia and I were supposed to go together. We were going to wear red, and I would pick her up from her father's house. It was supposed to be magical, but now I don't know anymore.

For some unknown reason, Malia's death seems to be lifting of a weight that I didn't know had settled on my chest.

It's only been a week, but my body seems to be calm now. At the beginning, my eyes would hurt, every night they would burn.

Now, some might say that I'm happy again, but it's not the case.

For a week I haven't been going to school. I haven't seen Scott, or anyone else, not even my dad.

I've been staying at Chi's, against my will of course. I didn't have anywhere else to go, and after what happened with Lydia, things just went down hill.

My dad heard about what I did; he was more disappointed than mad.

"How could you do this Stiles?" I watched as dad paced around his office.

"I don't even know how I did it. It's just that I got so angry I--"

Dad held up his hand as he finally looked at me, "That's enough, Stiles." He sighed, "I told you the first time that I'd cover it up, but that was self defense."

I nodded. I knew what it meant.

I guess I can kiss the camp good-bye, there's no way that they'll let me into law enforcement now.

"I know dad; I know. I spoke to Malia's dad. He shot me in my right shoulder, but it's all healed now." I heard him scoff as he shook his head again.

"This isn't you, son, it's not you." He turned to open the door.

"Dad please--" I reached onto his shoulder, only to have him shrug it off.

He held his hand up again, "Stiles."

Then he was gone.

So now I'm stuck in history, waiting for class to start while slowly dreading the entrance of you know who.

I jumped in my seat as the bell rang, in walking a middle aged man. He directly went to the board as wrote his name on it, Johnathan Gilbert.

He set his mallet down, before arranging papers on the desk. I heard him mumbling a tune my mother used to sing to me when I was little.

I turned my gaze away as I looked at the door; it was Scott.

He was the last person to walk in. I watched as he stopped in front of the rows of desks. It took me a while to realize that he wasn't looking at me, but behind me.