Transformed (Incomplete)

Wolf Moon, Part VIII

    After school, I was sitting on the bleachers, watching the lacrosse players. I had my homework and a folder sitting in my lap. I had been intently doing math until I distinctly heard Stiles' voice shouting my brother's name. I stood up and hopped down the bleachers carefully, just in time to hear Stiles' news.
    "I overheard my dad on the phone," Stiles says. More news about the dead body. I'm morbidly excited to hear it. "The fiber analysis came back from the lab in L.A. They found animal hairs on the body from the woods!"
    "Well, yeah," I look at Stiles. "There are lots of animals in the woods. They were probably having a great snack on that half of a body."
    Scott looks at me, disgusting. "Stiles, I gotta go," he says, moving away.
    "Wait, no! Scott!" Stiles calls, chasing after him. "You're not gonna believe what the animal was!"
    Stiles loses his grip on Scott as he runs onto the field.
    "What was it?" I ask, wondering why it mattered.
    "It was a wolf," Stiles answers quietly. My fingertips go numb for a second.
    "I thought you said there were no wolves in California," I say. I can barely feel my lips moving.
    "Let's go! Gather 'round!" Coach yells, blowing his whistle. "Bring it in!"
    "There's not. I mean, I thought there's not. There didn't used to be," Stiles rushes out, running onto the field. I push my hair out of my face as I watch them mill around Coach. Maybe Scott really did get bit by a wolf? But how could there be a wolf in the woods? Here in Beacon Hills? Stiles said there were no wolves in the entire state of California for sixty years. Are they coming back?
    "I blame global warming," I grumble to myself as I walk back to the bleachers. I try to focus on math again, but I can't. Now all I can think about is how there are wolves running around in California again.
    The lacrosse players start shouting and Coach blows his whistle again. They all run to their spots and start passing the ball. Scott catches the ball and starts cradling it and running. Then, Jackson slams into him, knocking him to the ground. Scott gets up angrily and Coach blows his whistle.
    Jackson and Scott are facing each other now and when Coach blows his whistle, Scott whips up the ball and starts running.
    Forget math. The sudden increase in my brother's lacrosse skills has my full attention now. Maybe his Become-An-Actual-Lacrosse-Player plan is actually working. He flings his stick over an oncoming player's head and then sidesteps another. He jumps around yet another and flips over a group of three of them. I stand up, cupping my hands around my mouth to yell, "Whoo!"
    I get weird looks from the people around me, but I don't care. I wave my math homework in the air happily.
    Scott whips the ball towards the goal. The goalie tries to catch it, but it slams into the back of the net. People cheer and Coach blows his whistle. Jackson looks dumbfounded and my brother turns, raising his hands in the air triumphantly. Lacrosse players mill around him, cheering him on. I hadn't noticed Allison was watching practice again, but I see her as she stands up and claps.
    "McCall!" Coach yells. "Get over here!"
    I can't hear most of the conversation, but I heard Coach yell, "What the hell was that?" Coach tells Scott something that makes his eyes go wide and then claps him on the arm. "You made first line!" Coach shouts. I grin like an idiot and cheer with everyone else. Scottie made first line! He grins like an idiot, too, bouncing on his toes. Then, I notice Stiles wasn't cheering. In fact, he wasn't even standing.