The Youngest (Teen Wolf) Rewritten

Chapter Two

Coach strode over to Scott, holding Kylie's small hand in his firm grip. His whistle dangled around his neck, glinting under the afternoon sun.

"McCall!" he barked, his voice cutting through the chatter of the field.

Scott turned, just in time to catch the goalie stick and helmet that Coach tossed his way. The helmet clattered against his chest before he secured it under his arm.

"Yeah?" Scott asked, brows knitting in confusion.

"You're in goal," Coach said, a grin spreading across his face as if this were the most obvious decision in the world.

Scott blinked, momentarily stunned. "I've never played," he admitted, glancing nervously at the lacrosse stick, its worn handle rough against his fingers.

"I know," Coach replied without missing a beat. His eyes sparkled with mischief as he leaned in. "Scoring some shots will give the boys a confidence boost. It's a first day back thing. Get 'em energized, fired up!" His voice rose, brimming with enthusiasm that felt almost contagious.

"What about me?" Scott asked.

Kylie piped up from beside the coach, her eyes twinkling with mischief. "Don't get hit," she said, a sly smile playing on her lips.

Scott's playful glare met her giggle, and he couldn't help but smirk. Coach, already moving away, didn't catch the exchange. His attention was on the field, his sharp gaze scanning the players as he marched toward the center of the yard.

"Let's go! Come on!" he shouted, his voice booming across the expanse. The students snapped to attention, the energy on the field buzzing with anticipation. The afternoon light bathed the scene in golden hues, casting long shadows over the crisp white lines of the field.

Kylie scampered over to sit beside Stiles, her small legs swinging off the bench as she watched her brother walk to the goal. The sun cast a warm glow over the field, highlighting the sheen of sweat already forming on the players' brows. The air was thick with anticipation, punctuated only by the rhythmic thud of cleats on grass and the metallic clink of lacrosse sticks.

Coach blew the whistle sharply, and the first player launched the ball with a swift, confident arc. It hit Scott square in the face with a dull thud, the impact echoing across the field. For a split second, the entire field froze. Then, a burst of laughter erupted from Kylie, her giggles ringing out like tiny chimes.

Scott winced but shook it off, determination sparking in his eyes. As the next shots came, he moved with newfound speed and precision, catching each one with ease. The players exchanged surprised glances, and murmurs rippled through the sidelines. The tension turned into a collective buzz of astonishment.

Jackson stepped forward, his face set in a look of focused defiance. He cradled the ball with a practiced flick of his wrist and launched it at Scott with a force that drew gasps from the crowd. Scott's reflexes snapped into action, and he caught the ball cleanly, the netting of the stick absorbing the impact with a sharp, satisfying pop.

Stiles leaped to his feet, hoisting Kylie up in excitement. The little girl's eyes were wide, her cheeks flushed with delight as she raised her tiny fists.

"Go, Scotty!" Kylie cheered, her voice bright and full of pride.

The field was alive with shouts and claps as Scott stood in the goal, a grin breaking across his face. For that moment, everything else faded, leaving only the cheers and the rush of accomplishment.

•

Kylie balanced carefully on the trunk of a fallen tree, her small arms outstretched for balance as Scott and Stiles walked beside her, their steps crunching on the dry leaves scattered across the forest floor. Shafts of sunlight pierced through the canopy above, casting dappled patterns over their path.