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one
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★
Stiles
"What's Valerie Thomas doing here?"
Scott's question got me jerking my head up, immediately looking in the same direction as him. In front of the bleachers by the lacrosse field stood a girl holding a clipboard. A girl I knew all too well.
"Probably finding new ways to make my life miserable," I said, groaning. Scott furrowed his eyebrows in confusion.
"Still? I thought she'd be over 5th grade by now," he said and I internally rolled my eyes. At first, I also thought she'd stop hating me by now.
"Well, if it one thing that girl's good at, it's holding grudges," I said, looking at her. I realized my mistake when she seemed to notice my gaze and turned her head towards us. She soon realized we've been the ones who were looking at her and grinned. Not the 'I'm so happy and nice and carefree' kind of grin, but the 'I'm evil and I'm gonna do evil things just because I enjoy it' kind of grin.
"Stilisnki! McCall!" She called out as she started walking towards us. Valerie Thomas wasn't the kind of girl that was supposed to look intimidating. She was shorter than me (not by much but still), she had blonde hair, doe-like blue eyes with a small button-nose. Not to mention the large number of freckles that covered her face. But her normally punk styled outfits, black lipstick and the purple streaks that were colored in her hair, paired with that evil grin she was always wearing around me... she just really scared me.
"I didn't know you two were on the lacrosse team," she said once in front of us. "I must be blind then I guess, cause I've never actually seen you out on the field."
Typical, I thought. Valerie had been teasing me about my... lack of involvement in the team I was a part of ever since I joined in freshman year.
"We could say the same thing about you," I said looking down at her normal punk attire. For those few of you who don't know what punk clothes look like, it basically involves a lot of black, leather, distressed fabric, rivets and safety needles. So only the really scary stuff. But it's not exactly the best athletic attire. "What are you doing here, Thomas?"
"Coach needed an assistant. Apparently, it was pretty stressful keeping track of you guys last year- so I'm here to help him out. Which I should probably get back to. Good luck with practice! Hope you don't suck but you're gonna!" And with that sweet sentiment, she left.
"Can't she jump off her high horse for once?" I snorted. "Everyone knows she only got this 'assistant job' because she's Coach's favorite student."
"Scott nodded, before furrowing his brows in confusion once again. It was quite a common thing for him to do.
"I wonder why he likes her so much. It doesn't make any sense."
"It's probably because they're so similar," I muttered. Scott furrowed his eyebrows even more.
"How are they-"
Scott was interrupted by a loud yelling from the bleachers. It was Valerie, yelling at the boys who had already started practice.
"COME ON GUYS! RUN FASTER!" she yelled, clapping her hands to emphasize her words. "I COULD LITERALLY OUTRUN YOU IN EIGHT INCH HEELS RIGHT NOW! MY GRANDMA COULD RUN FASTER THAN YOU! AND SHE'S DEAD!"
