The Stella Argent - Stiles Stilinski {Book 2}

Chapter 2

Stella POV

I sat in the car, waiting for Derek and Stiles, lost in my thoughts about why I had returned to Beacon Hills.

Flashback in Paris:

I was in my room with Isaac, discussing a girl he saw who looked strangely familiar from Beacon Hills.

"We need to go," Chris suddenly rushed into my room, looking around frantically.

"Why?" I inquired, getting up from my bed and approaching him. He exited my room and went to his.

"You can't miss too much school; it has already started," he explained, grabbing a duffel bag from his closet. I could hear his heart rate increasing, but I thought it was due to his haste.

I was bewildered about why he wanted to leave so abruptly. He loved it in Paris—no werewolves, no hunting, no problems, and certainly no supernatural threats. We had been enjoying peaceful nights for the past few months. Everything was perfect.

"I'm not leaving. I have nothing left in Beacon Hills, and I'll stay here. School was never my thing," Isaac declared, standing right behind me.

Flashback ends

"Stella!" Stiles's voice snapped me out of my reverie. I jumped a little, not having noticed that they were now in the car with me. I glanced at the rearview mirror and saw Derek giving me a puzzled look.

"Sorry, I was lost in thought," I offered him a small smile and started the car. The ride remained mostly silent, except for when Stiles received a call from Malia, whom I remembered from the coyote hunt and from the class earlier in the day.

"What's your name?" Derek asked me, his gaze unwavering, even though Stiles had just yelled my name loudly in my ear.

"Stella Ar—" I began, about to say my last name, but Stiles cut me off.

"Okay, here we are. Get out, Derek," Stiles said, opening his door and rushing over to Derek's side. I shot Stiles a puzzled look, and he responded with a strange smile, not the cute, endearing kind, but an awkward and secretive one – but then again, it was Stiles.

We entered Scott's house, and I closed the door behind me, looking around. It had been a while since I'd seen this place, and I missed the cinnamon scent that lingered here.

"We're going to wait here for Scott. We'll sit quietly, not call or talk to anyone," Stiles instructed Derek, repeating the rules for him.

"Can I talk to you?" Derek asked Stiles.

"No," Stiles replied.

"Okay, what about Stella?" Derek inquired, looking in my direction.

"Definitely not," Stiles chuckled and shook his head.

"Fine," Derek shrugged. "Who's going to talk to him?" he inquired, pointing toward the kitchen. I glanced inside and saw Agent McCall.

"Ah! Are you getting taller?" Stiles reacted with shock to the agent's towering figure, and I rolled my eyes at his response.

"What are you guys doing here?" Agent McCall asked, gazing at us.

"What are you doing here?" I countered, crossing my arms. I couldn't say I was a fan of Mr. McCall, especially after he attempted to take the Sheriff's job. We hadn't exactly gotten along.

"Well, I live here," he said, glancing around the house with his arms outstretched.

"Correction, you DID live here," I smirked, and he rolled his eyes at me.

"Nice to see you again, Stella," he said, looking over at me, and I couldn't help but mutter, "Well, that makes one of us."

"I was supposed to have dinner with Scott, but I have extras. Would you like to eat?" he offered. I may not have liked him, but he always knew the right thing to say when it came to food. The word "extras" was like music to my ears.