Katherine McCall lived a normal life with a somewhat normal brother and a normal crush on best friend Stiles. It was everything she could keep up with while also juggling with school. She preferred normalcy. That was until her brother, Scott, was bi...
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✧"When the seasons change will you stand by me?"✧
My converse clank against the metal of the bleachers while I make my way over to a vacant spot behind Scott. The sound catches his attention and he turns towards me with an unreadable expression that makes me raise my eyebrow while I sit on the cold seat.
"What?" I ask while hugging my body due to the chill air. He overlooks me while seeming to look around, trying to spot something.
"What's wrong?" I ask, intrigued. His eyes glow yellow which makes my face twist in confusion.
"There's another werewolf." He answers my expression. I let my arms fall to my lap while I watch his eyes return to their normal color. Does that mean that Derek turned someone? Stiles stumbles over to us with a lacrosse stick and helmet in his hands before he plops down beside Scott. We turn our attention towards him while he hands Scott the gear.
"I told coach you're switching with Danny for the day." Stiles tells Scott before fixing his elbow pads.
"But I hate playing goalie." Scott whines and I roll my eyes.
"Remember when I said I had an idea? This is the idea." Stiles says.
"Oh." Scott says as if understanding.
"There we go." Stiles says happily before rummaging through his bag on the grassy ground in front of him.
"What's the idea?" Scott asks while looking between the helmet in his hands and Stiles. Stiles sits up on the bleachers and looks at Scott in disbelief.
"I seriously don't understand how you survive without us sometimes." Stiles answers while taking a quick glance at me. I chuckle while Coach blows the whistle before Stiles pats Scott on the chest.
"Let's go! Line it up!" Coach yells. Scott and Stiles put on their helmets, grab their lacrosse sticks and run out onto the field. I shove my hand in my backpack besides my feet, looking for my phone. When my hand comes in contact with the cold device, I wrap my fingers around it and pull it out. I scroll through my contacts, looking for Allison's number, and press on her contact.
Me: How's Lydia?
I'm texting Allison because I know Lydia won't give me a straight answer.
