**COMPLETED***
Coming back to Beacon Hills with her brother, Blake Hale obviously knew they came back for a reason. But she wasn't exactly prepared to come for one reason, and stay for another. She wasn't prepared to go back to school, or to make fr...
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(Not the shoes, just plain black boots)
Chapter Two 🐺 Second Change at First Line 🐺
Blake sat at the top of the bleachers with her arms crossed and a bored expression on her face. Allison and Lydia had went back to their houses after school so Blake was alone. She didn't even want to be there in the first place, Derek told her to stay and watch to keep an eye on Scott.
Scott, gazing off with far too many thoughts swirling in his head, doesn't notice the other players backing up behind him. "McCall, let's go!" Coach yelled making Scott pay attention, realizing he's at the head of the line. Coach tosses the ball. Scott goes for the shot. But Jackson comes at him with a volley of slap checks, "Still want to be first line, McCall?"
Gritting his teeth in anger, Scott looks up to reveal his brown eyes are rapidly brightening to yellow. Blake took a deep breath as she slowly stood up while Coach walked over to Scott. "McCall, my grandmother can move faster than that and she's dead! Can you move faster than the lifeless corpse of my dead grandmother, McCall?"
"Yes, Coach."
"I can't hear you."
"Yes, Coach!"
"Then do it again!" Coach said and Scott went back to the start of the line. Stiles looked at him worriedly before looking over at the bleachers, his eyes connecting with Blake's who watched, readying for anything to happen. The whistle blows and Scott shoots forward again as Coach tosses the ball to him.
An oblivious Jackson goes for a cross check, heading for Scott with his stick horizontal even as the smaller boy hurtles toward him with ferocious speed. They collide like two goats locking horns. Both go down, Jackson yelling as he hits the ground. The sickening sound of bone dislodging from socket sends a cringe through Coach. While everyone else runs over to check on Jackson, Stiles hurries to Scott's side.
"Are you okay?" Stiles asks but Scott won't lift his head, won't reveal his face to Stiles underneath the helmet. "Scott?" His head tilts up to reveal the sharpened teeth jutting out from his lower jaw. "It's happening. I can't control it. It's happening."
