Joan » S.Stilinski [1]

07 ; No Way in Hell

          Joan walked along side Scott and Stiles, the two conversing about their positions on the lacrosse team. Her eyes roamed the field aimlessly as Stiles reassured Scott that he was still team captain. "He's right, Scott. You're the best player we've had in years. Coach wouldn't replace you unless there was someone who's miraculously ten times better than you."

          "We got bigger things to deal with anyway," Stiles says, agreeing with Joan wholeheartedly. "Did you tell Argent yet?"

          "I texted him, but he didn't get back to me," Scott answers skeptically, looking between his two best friends and the lacrosse field.

          Joan shakes her head, "I sent him an email as well, but got nothing back."

          Stiles looked at the two incredulously, "You told him his sister – Kate – came back from the dead over a text and an email?"

         "I didn't have the money to call France," Scott defends himself, crossing his arms over his chest. Joan nods, "I've been emailing him occasionally to keep him up to date with everything, but he doesn't reply much. Plus, she's not the first person come back to life in this town."

          The two boys nodded, the topic changing to their problems at home, "Yeah, you think you got money problems? Try paying for an MRI and a visit to Eichen House."

          "Another notice?" Scott asks.

          Stiles nods, a grim look casting son his face, "Yeah, this one said, 'final'." He paused before continuing. "Now, what the hell are we even doing here anyway? We got like a 117 million problems and worrying about our status on the lacrosse team is not one of them."

          "Umm... It might be now," Joan cuts in, pointing towards someone on the field playing goalie. They continued to catch every ball with ease, almost as if he knew where each ball would go before it left the person's net.

          "Who the hell is that?" Stiles rhetorically asks, squinting to get a better look at the lacrosse player.

          "I think that's Liam Dunbar," Joan answers, watching the freshman in amazement. Both boys turned to her, giving Joan a confused and slight annoyed glare. "What? He's in my father's first period class!"

          Stiles shook his head at the girl, hiking his bag higher up his shoulder, "Okay, maybe we should just practice a little bit." Before he and Scott could get too far away, Joan quickly ran towards them and told them good luck. "Don't forget that you've got seniority, plus you're both not annoying as hell so you should be fine."

          "Thanks, Joan," Scott replied, a smile gracing his lip. Joan playfully saluted before turning on her heels and walking away. She quickly walked through the semi-empty halls, thankful she had gotten to school early with Scott and Stiles. 

          The two were going to do fine at tryouts, Joan knew that. Scott was a good player and an amazing team captain. Stiles on the other hand, he just needed a little work. He had to motivation, just not the coordination. Lacrosse kept them grounded and made them feel normal. While helping teach and school work in general did the same for Joan. The pack all had little things that made them feel like normal teenagers, and without them lord knows what they'd be doing.

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          "Malia I know how much you hate math, but it's a very vital subject that you need to learn," Joan insisted, trying to push the were-coyote into their next period. "Gah! Why do you have to be a were-coyote?!"

          "I hate math," Malia insisted, standing as stiff as a board, making it incredibly difficult for Joan to push her into the classroom.