𝑾𝒂𝒍𝒍𝒇𝒍𝒐𝒘𝒆𝒓 ➸𝑨𝒍𝒍𝒊𝒔𝒐𝒏 𝑨𝒓𝒈𝒆𝒏𝒕 ꟾ𝟏ꟾ

Lunatics

[REWRITTEN]

I

Coach blows the whistle, making all of the players flock towards him.

"All right, geniuses, listen up. Due to the recent pink eye outbreak, thank you, Greenberg, the following players have made first line on a probationary basis. Emphasis on the word probationary."

"Rodriguez, Taylor, and..." Stiles sits up on the bench, eyes full of hope. "And...Walker." Stiles slumps down but gives me a slight smile in congratulations.

"Uh, Coach," I say, he gives me an annoyed look. "I can't be first line."

"And why is that, Walter?"

"It's Wesley, and because my arm is still broken, remember?" Coach just rolls his eyes before looking at the list again.

"Right, hold on just a moment." Coach steps back into his office and returns with another sheet of paper. "So that's Rodriguez, Taylor, and—I can't read my own writing. What is that? An S?" Stiles nods emphatically. "No. No, I think it's a B. Yeah, that's definitely a B." Stiles slumps down again.

"So that's Rodriguez, Taylor, and Bilinski." Stiles jumps back up, startling me as he hollers in triumph.

"Bilinski, shut up!" Coach says, making Jackson and his friends laugh.

"Yes, sir."

I turn to him with a smile. "Congrats, Stiles-"

"It's Biles. Call me Biles or I swear to God I'll kill you." I hold up my arm, surrendering.

"Another thing, from here on out we're switching to Co-Captains. Congrats, McCall."

"What?" The room goes dead silent.

"Jackson, this takes nothing away from you. It's about combining separate strengths into one unit. Your unit and McCall's unit. Making one big unit." Coach then turns to Scott. "McCall, it's you and Jackson now. Everybody else, asses on the field!"

As the team files out, I put my left arm around Scott who looks oddly bewildered by the news. "Congrats, Scotty."

"Can you believe this?" Stiles asks, excitedly. "You're a Captain. I'm First Line. I'm First freaking Line! Are you not freaking out? I'm freaking out."

"What's the point? It's just a stupid title. And I could practically smell the jealousy in there."

"You can smell jealousy?" I ask, confused.

"It's like the full moon's turned everything up to ten."

"Can you pick up on stuff like, I don't know, desire?" I give Stiles a weird look.

"What do you mean desire?"

"Like, sexual desire?"

"Sexual desire."

"Yes. Sexual desire. Lust. Passion. Arousal." Stiles says, rolling the r in arousal.

I look down the hall to see Lydia talking to Quinn. "Oh, you mean like, from Lydia to you?"

"Fine, yes, from Lydia to me," Stiles confirms. "I have to know if I have a chance with her. I've been obsessing over this girl since the third freaking grade."

"Why don't you just ask her?"

"Well, to save myself from utterly crushing humiliation. Thank you, Scott. Okay, please, can you go up and ask if she likes me? See if her heartbeat rises, or pheromones come out."

What Stiles said reminded me of what Sarah told me this morning. I wasn't letting fear of Allison rejecting me rule over my life. Scott's more depressed than I've ever seen him before and I'd be disgusted with myself if I took advantage of his state to try and get to Allison.