One Of A Kind

Chapter 3: Red Tattoos

I snorted. "Isn't that the question?"

I sat myself down quickly, resting my back against a tree trunk as it was moments ago. So much for the end of this conversation. This was only the beginning. I had a sneaking suspicion that Derek wasn't going to leave this alone and thus I wasn't surprised when Derek came over and took a seat next to me once more. 

"I guess, depends on how you look at it." Derek spoke, plucking pieces of grass out of the forest floor and flicking them away. 

"Oh really? And how is it that you look at it, Derek?" I turned to him sarcastically. 

"Well, without even knowing much about you, I can uncover a lot. For example, I know you're something un-ordinary because if you weren't, you wouldn't hide it."

"But-" I started. I had to end this. Had to blame it on something else, my being. . . odd. 

"And if you were just a werewolf you wouldn't have almost killed that man back there." Derek flicked another piece of grass. 

"Listen-" I tried to continue. I had to salvage this. Had to blame that on something else. I could say I was bit not too long ago- fuck, no. . . Derek evidently knew I had been around for years. I could blame it on control issues, or drugs, or being dropped on my head-

"Not to mention, if you were something like any one of us at the school, you'd have some place to fit it. You wouldn't purposefully single yourself out." Derek finished his spiel and stopped ripping out the grass, turning his attention to me. Choosing to ignore the majority of what he said, I furrowed my brow. 

"Oh, is that what it is?" I turned further to face Derek completely. "I simply don't have friends because I choose not to?"

He wasn't exactly wrong. It for sure was easier to be alone, to eliminate questions. But even if I had tried, had made an effort, I was sure it wouldn't do much good. 

"Kind of, yeah." Derek shrugged, frustrating me further. Who the fuck was he, this jock, this guy who ruled the town, to sit here and point out my flaws, the fact that I was alone. It was annoying as fuck. 

"Don't pin that bullshit on me, if someone wanted to be my friend they could have just talked to me." Not that I would have responded kindly, or even known how to respond. It would be too weird at this point in my life, after I had spent so many years with the same people. 

"Yeah of course, if you were approachable." Derek smirked. Me, not approachable? Had he looked in the mirror?

"Let me get this straight, me, not the nine feet tall ogres or the black eyed demons, am unapproachable?" I placed a hand on my chest. 

"You walk around with your hoodie drawn over your head, glaring at people when they make eye contact with you. When people are assigned your lab partners, you ask to work alone. You eat your lunch in a tree."

"I do that before they can trade." I mumbled, referencing the whole lab partner thing. The rest I couldn't deny. I couldn't deny any of it really. I stood up once more, hoping to head home soon.  My dad was working late tonight, but I wanted to end whatever the fuck this day was, especially before Derek remembered to circle back to the whole what the fuck even are you conversation. 

"Cut the shit, Stilinski. You put on this persona for a reason, seems to me like you're afraid." Derek spoke, standing quickly, hands on his hips. 

I scoffed, walking further away from him. Fuck him. Fuck him for saying that. For being right. For seeing through me, when I had worked so fucking hard to prevent shit like this.

"Hey!" Derek grabbed my shoulder, spinning me towards him as I tried to continue to walk away from this conversation yet again. 

Instantly I growled, taking a step back from him.