Demons - Stiles Stilinski (Teen Wolf)

Chapter 13: Scott's First Game Part 2

I took my place on the cold hard bench beside Lydia who has some poster board leaning against her shin, presumably with phrases to boost Jackson's ego pasted onto them. Allison and her father sat on the other side of her, Allison shifted slightly awkwardly, pulling the sleeves of her sweater down over her hands.

"You know," I started as soon as I had settled in for the game to begin, "I'm allowed to have other friends you know?" I stared at the girl beside me, her gaze locked onto the players as they filed onto the field.

"Other friends? Yes," she sighed, fixing her already perfect hair, "Just not one's that sit on the sidelines and watch as Jackson once again leads our team to victory." The callous response annoyed me, but what could I expect from Lydia? She knows what she wants and how to get it, and unfortunately for me, she wants popularity and notoriety, which was tainted when one of her closest friends mingled with those, she deemed unworthy.

Before I had the chance to respond the boys had taken their positions on the field and the referee had blown his whistle to signal the players to begin the battle for dominance. I sigh in resignation and settle back into my seat to watch the game. Concern for both Jackson and Scott sitting uncomfortably in my chest.

The game progressed quickly as the opposing team scored. It wasn't noticeable at first but as the game continued it was obvious no one was passing to Scott. It had got to the point that the other team must have noticed and had stopped blocking him, leaving him open. And yet the Beacon Hills players refused to even let the notion pass through their thoughts.

As Beacon Hills finally scored, by none other than Jackson Whitmore, the crowd erupted in cheers. We stood to our feet and Lydia nudges Allison as she lifted a sign singing Jackson's praise. Scott has a double-take at the sign as he makes his way back into position, the rest of the team gathered, looking to be arguing. They separated after Jackson made a seemingly heated remark.

Before play continued, Scott seemed to bend over in his position, his breath visible as he wrung his hands slightly on the stick of his Crosse. The member of the opposing team meant to be covering him seemingly backed away from the boy.

"Which one's Scott?" I hear Mr Argent question us as the fourth quarter began.

"Number 11," Lydia muttered bitterly, "Also, the only player who hasn't caught a single ball this entire game."

"I hope he's okay," Allison mumbles into the sleeve that she had pulled over her hands as she gently rubs it on her chin.

I turn to look at her reassuringly, "He will be." My voice is firm as I look directly into her eyes, concern shining in their brown depths, only marginally decreased by the perceived sincerity of my words. I turn my attention back to the boy who was slightly hunched on the field, his breathing visible in the cool night air. I begin to gently bite my thumb as I mumble, "I hope."

"I hope we're okay," Lydia snarked, annoyance evident in her tone as she gazed at the scoreboard, "We need to win this." She abruptly stood, grabbing another sign she had brought. "Allison, little help here," she demanded, turning to Allison.

Allison reluctantly got up and halfheartedly aided in balancing the sign in the air. Scott saw this once again and his breathing became visibly heavier. From this, it seemingly flipped a switch in the boy as, as soon as the whistle was blown to signal the beginning of the round, he was off, had gained possession of the ball and had scored a goal.

The crowd jumped to their feet cheering on the newest addition to the team. All except for Lydia that is, who looked shocked and annoyed at the development. "Come on, Lyds. If he keeps playing like that then we're not going to lose." I nudge her with my knee as I continued to clap for my friend's achievement.

As the game continued, Scott scored goal after goal, one through the Crosse of the goalkeeper, Stiles becoming just as excited as during the first practice of the year. As the final seconds ticked down though something was clearly wrong as, he stopped before the goal, not moving to throw the ball and score the winning goal.

Oh no. This isn't good.

As one of the opposing players made a move to steal the ball, I hear a gentle mumble from my left, "You can do it, Scott." As though broken out of a haze, the ball was projected into the net, and the game was won.

As the buzzer sounded indicating the conclusion of the game, I see a pair of familiar hands thrust into the air and the crowd began to flood the field to congratulate or commiserate with players. The last I see of Scott is his back heading towards the school. I was quickly lost in the sea of people and attempted to navigate towards the direction in which I last saw Stiles.

As the crowd parted the boy came into view, a concerned look painting his features as his father spoke to him in a serious tone. The words weren't loud enough to be heard over the celebratory cheers, but they clearly worried Stiles from his expression.

"Stiles. Mr Stilinski," I called out to the pair. His eyes locked onto mine as I hopped over the final bench separating us, a false smile on my face as concern fills my stomach.

The sheriff greets me with a wide grin, "Carter, how have you been?"

"Good as always, Sheriff," I grin back, before playfully nudging Stiles, "but we should go find Scotty. Congratulate him on his win." I begin to back up pulling Stiles gently towards the school building.

He nods in understanding before turning back to his phone as it begins to ring. Stiles and I turn towards the school walking at a brisk pace across the field, dodging bodies along the way.

"What's got you so concerned?" I ask.

He glances in my direction, "Derek Hale was released."

"And you think he might be after, Scott?" I mutter, more as a statement than a question. He nods in confirmation. "We should go find him then." And I quickly speed up to a run, Stiles swiftly following my lead into the building.

We rush down the halls towards the boy's locker room in search of a possibly feral wolf boy. My heartbeat thundered in my ears as my breath caught in my throat, Stiles presence close behind me as we round the final corner and the door came into view. The door flew open as we burst into the room and scrambled through the rows of lockers only to stop abruptly. I put my hand out to stop Stiles.

We found Scott. But he wasn't alone. Pushing Stiles back from the door allowing to close with a slight click giving Scott and Allison some privacy. I murmur, "I win, Stilinski. Pay up."