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Chapter 1

"Are you sure you'll be alright here?" 

I sighed, looking around the uncharacteristically silent living room of the McCall house. I would be staying with them for a while, since I couldn't bring myself to part with Beacon Hills. I had gained important friends (most of them much older) and my sister had died here. For a 14, almost 15 year-old girl, I had acquired a very strong emotional attachment to this town. I couldn't just leave. 

My dad looked at me from under his thick, furrowed brows and sadness shone in his pale blue eyes. "Yeah," I said softly. I ran a hand through my dark hair. "Yeah, I'll be fine."

I looked past him to Isaac, who stood awkwardly by the front door. He had his head down, but I could hear the small, quiet sniffles that escaped his mouth. I swallowed thickly and pushed gently past my dad to stand in front of Isaac. 

"Isaac," I murmured. He looked up with bloodshot eyes. I pulled him into a firm hug despite his towering height. "I'll miss you." I felt warm tears drip onto my neck and into my hair. 

"Miss you too," he mumbled against my skin. "Be safe." I felt my eyes fill with tears and they quickly spilled over onto my cheeks. I sniffed. 

We said the last of our goodbyes, and I followed them out of the house. I smiled shakily as dad pressed his lips to my forehead. "I'll see you soon," he whispered. I nodded. 

"Of course." I scratched my cheek, feeling tears come off on my fingertips. "I love you." 

"I love you too." 

He ducked into the driver's side, Isaac doing the same into the passenger's seat. Dad started the car, and I raised my hand in a short wave as they pulled out of the driveway and disappeared down the road. A vulnerable, sad feeling settled in my stomach. 

I didn't have my father to protect me anymore. 

My shoulders drooped and I dragged my heavy feet up the front steps and into the house. No one was home since Scott and Melissa were out doing something to attempt and cheer each other up, and had left me with an explanation about my room and a key under the "welcome" mat. 
_

"I know it isn't much," Melissa said, motioning to the pale green bedspread and the beige walls of my new room. The small window on the wall opposite of me let a minimal amount of light that only let me see the major details of the room. I eyed the empty fish tank by the bedside. I picked at the blanket with an uncertain smile. 

"It's great," I said. "I really can't thank you enough."

"It's no problem." Melissa smiled gently. "I think Scott would benefit with you here too. Maybe give him someone to talk to."

I nodded. 

"Yeah, I hope I can help him." I said softly, turning away to catch the tears that escaped the corners of my eyes. I wouldn't let Melissa see me cry. She didn't need to handle another emotional teen. Scott was enough. 

I really didn't want to  give her any more trouble. 
_
2 months later

I woke to the sound of the door opening with a soft click. 

I groaned groggily, yanking the covers over my head and burying my face into the pillow. It was quiet for a moment so I peeked out from under the covers carefully. I huffed, Scott's brown eyes coming into view. 

"Stiles is coming to pick us up in 20," Scott grinned. I grumbled something unintelligible under my breath, turning away from the older boy. I tried to drift back to sleep. He chuckled. 

"You can come to lacrosse today."

I perked up, turning my head to look at him. "Really?" I asked eagerly. He nodded with another, wider grin. "Are you still captain?"

Scott's grin faded a bit. "Yeah," his brows furrowed. "Yeah, I think so. I hope so."

I sat up. "Alright, get out." I made a shooing motion with my hand. "I need to get ready."

He complied graciously, and 15 minutes and a bagel later, I was piling into the back of Stiles' jeep, dropping a kiss onto his cheek. He shot me a wide grin. 

The two boys started talking about lacrosse try-outs, and I started to fix my dark hair into a braid. I heard a few parts of their conversation, but with my attention focused on my hair and then my phone, I couldn't really have cared less. 

I hopped out of the jeep, saying my goodbyes to the boys and they waved absentmindedly. With a sigh, I craned my head and peered around the parking lot. My eyes found one of my friends, Maya. I wasn't as close to Maya as I was to Scott, Stiles or Lydia. Before Allison had died, I could have said I was leaning more towards Maya because she was one of my first friends when I had moved to Beacon Hills, and I had only know the others from Allison. But when she died and I started living with Scott, I became more than accustomed to Lydia's doting, Stiles' spastic attitude, and Scott's alpha-ness. I hadn't talked to Maya in a while, so today was probably a good time to start. 

"Maya!" I called, waving my hand to get her attention. She looked up from where she was sitting on the curb, her glasses falling down her straight nose. A half-smile spread across her lips.

I jogged over, narrowly dodging a car and some random senior. I plopped down beside her with a large albeit hesitant grin. "Hey," I greeted softly. She let out a quiet laugh. 

"Hey," Maya looked back down at her book for a moment, before folding back a corner of the page and closing the book. I cringed. 

"You haven't talked to me lately," she noted, standing and helping me up. I grimaced, falling into step beside her. I opened my mouth to reply, but she cut me off. "I get it. I don't blame you." 

She didn't say anything after that and we walked in silence. We went our separate ways to our lockers, and I grabbed my books for my first class. My phone buzzed sharply in my pocket, startling me. I slid it out, checking my messages. 

Lacrosse after school, meet us outside -Scott

I nodded to myself, making a mental note to not forget. "Alright, got it." I murmured, placing my phone in the side pocket of my locker. I closed it and looked around the nearly empty hallway. I cursed. 

Like usual, I would be late. I was always late. 

I really need to sort my decisions out properly. 

As I rounded another corner, I collided into a boy my age, making me stumble back a bit. One of my binders slid out of my grasp and hit the ground, the sound seeming achingly loud in the silent hallway. I frowned, reaching down to pick it up, but he beat me to it, and I straightened up, grabbing the binder from the boy's tan, outstretched hand. He grinned sheepishly, running a hand through his short brown hair. "Sorry," he apologized. I nodded hurriedly, moving to walk around him, but he made a noise in the back of his throat, obviously needing my attention. 

With a sigh, I turned back. "Yeah?" I pressed my lips into a straight line. He didn't answer for a moment. "I'm in a hurry." 

"I need help finding my class," he mumbled, another grin threatening to pull at his lips. "Can you...?"