The Best Friend (Teen Wolf)

Chapter Three

"Hey, that's not true." Stiles walks forward. "You are perfect..." he cracks a smile. "You're a freakin' werecoyote! How awesome is that?"

"It's-- It's pretty cool," I slowly uncurl my hands and take them out of my pockets, "I guess."

Scott sends a questioning look at Lydia. She glances at Stiles and me before nodding at Scott.

"Do you know how to do the..." Stiles gestures to his eyes, "thing?"

"What?" My eyebrows furrow as I try to read him. What is he talking about?

"Okay, I mean... look at Scott. Scott show her your eyes!"

"I see his eyes." I point out. Stiles sighs before gesturing at Scott again.

"Show her."

Scott closes his eyes and takes a deep breath before looking back up at me with glowing yellow eyes.

Woah.

"I can do that?"

He nods. "Yes, but you probably need practice."

"How did you learn all this stuff?" I ask Scott, slowly sitting up.

"With the help of some friends," he smiles at Stiles, "it all started with the bite. I wouldn't have gotten through half of what I did had it not been for Stiles."

"The bite?" I pause, thinking back. "I was never bitten by anything..."

"I swear if she turns out to be Cora number two--" Stiles starts, but shuts up as soon as Scott slaps his arm. Stiles holds his arm and sends a hurt look to Scott, who rolls his eyes.

"Were you adopted?"

"Not from what I know." I shrug.

"Could the gene skip a generation?" Scott asks Lydia.

She shakes her head. "Unlikely."

"You better not tell me that I'm adopted. I could barely handle the werecoyote thing." I warn them.

"Just ask your parents, okay?" Scott steps forward and places a hand on my shoulder. "We'll be here for you."

I nod and mumble out a 'thanks' before rolling over and dropping my face into the pillow.

"Emma?" Lydia asks.

"Mhmmm?"

"Ask them now."

"Damn it, Lydia." I sigh, pushing off the bed. "Okay."

⚜️⚜️⚜️

"Hey, Mom?" I knock on the doorframe and lean in. She looks up from her computer, a stray lock of black hair falling onto her face.

"Yes?" She gently pushes the lock of hair behind her ear and closes her laptop. "What's the matter?"

"I just— am I—" I take a deep breath and direct my gaze a few inches above her head. "Am I adopted?"

Silence ensues.

After a few moments, I look at her and notice her fingers playing with a button on her coat. No progress is made, she just pushes it back and forth through the soft green cloth. Her eyes are transfixed on the action when she finally releases a sigh.

"You weren't adopted," her fingers slow down, "but your father isn't your biological father."

I feel stuck. Frozen. Little invisible shards of ice sink into my blood and clog my veins, leaving me feeling heavy. How could I have been so stupid as to not notice?

I force myself to focus on my mom. Process later, hear the story now.

I notice her glasses are perched on the edge of her nose, but she doesn't care to push them back.

"Who is he?" I ask, clenching my teeth to hold back the hundreds of questions swarming my mind.

"I don't know." She releases the button and props her elbows on the table, using her hands to gently rub her temple. She looks up at me with pleading eyes. "Emma, I wish I could give you an answer. With all my heart, I do. But when I was pregnant with you I was living in Canada. Back then, I... I wasn't thinking straight. I was overrun by hormones and—"

"That's it? He was a one night stand?" I want to shout the words, but they only come out as a whisper.

She slowly nods her head. "I'm afraid so. I wish I stayed behind to start a relationship with him, but it was getting too dangerous in that city." She frowns and I see the resolve settling on her features. "I did what I had to do to protect you."

My phone starts buzzing in my pocket and Mom's dark brown eyes immediately meet mine.

"Lydia?" She sets her arms back down to her sides and sits up straighter. "You should go get that, it might be important."

I hesitate, but I know I can't win this fight. I send her a small smile before walking out of the study and answering the call.

"Hello?"

"Emma?" Stiles.

"How'd you get my number, Stiles?" I ask, walking through the hall to my room.

"Lydia gave it to me," he pauses, "so did you talk to someone about it yet? Are you adopted?"

"Well," I nervously laugh, "the funny thing about that is that I'm not adopted, but I can actually thank my existence to booze and hormones."

"Yikes." Stiles mutters. "That bad?"

I nod as I push open my door. "That bad."

"Wait, but does that mean that both your parents are supernatural?" He raises his voice a little. "That's great!"

"Mmm, yeah. That's not one hundred percent true." I shut the door with my foot and jump onto my bed. I face the ceiling as I talk with my quirky new friend. "My dad is not my actual dad. He came into the picture after my mom moved here from Canada."

"Oh." Stiles whispers, probably running a hand through his hair. "Did you tell Scott?"

"Nope, you're the first to know." I push up into sitting position. "Congrats, Stilinski."

"I don't like this award." I hear him mumble from his side.

I laugh. "Neither do I."