IX. | boyd

                    MONDAY MORNING ROLLED around before I could blink, and then I was back at school, laughing with Danny as we walked to chemistry class together. He'd had an eventful weekend, sneaking into clubs downtown and getting older men to buy him drinks. He was busy telling me about an instance including a vodka tonic when he looked over at me with wide eyes and an even wider grin.

"You and Presley should definitely come with me sometime."

I couldn't help but laugh. Neither Presley or I were party animals, but if we needed to, we'd make an appearance at a few get-togethers. I was never a drinker, but Presley could handle his alcohol, and with his killer smile, it'd take nothing for him to reel in free drinks. To keep Danny pleased, I said a simple, "Sure," then turned the conversation over to homework, where I'd been lost over the weekend.

As we sat down at our lab bench, me now next to Danny since Jackson had decided to take the seat directly across from his friend, Stiles and Scott sent me small smiles. I waved at them before leaning my head down towards my notebook so Danny could help me with an equation that I didn't quite understand.

Danny tried his best to explain, but I zoned out and thought about the secrets I knew. I couldn't help but wonder what made Scott so comfortable around me after last week. He'd injured Presley and received multiple threats from me, but it didn't seem to bother him too much. At most, he'd been guilty, but ever since I learned his wild secret, he'd reacted completely normal around me. I wondered if it was because he knew I could never truly hurt him.

"Get it?" Danny asked next to me.

I pulled myself out of my mind and looked down at the notebook where Danny had written the correct answer. "Yeah," I said as Harris entered the room. "Thanks."

-

The first half of the day went smoothly, and by the time lunch rolled around, I wasn't even thinking about anything werewolf related. Presley and I met up over a meal of lunch room slop, and we talked a little before the rest of the lacrosse team sat down around us. Similarly to every other school we'd been to, Presley was constantly surrounded by the popular crowd. With my direct relation to him, I was lucky enough to get boxed in at the jock table during every event. Today was no different.

Jackson sat down next to me and Danny sat across from him. The two traded jabs before Danny and Presley started talking about their math class, leaving myself and Jackson to our own devices. I'd not spoken to Jackson much since starting school, and I didn't plan on learning anything about him. Sitting in such close proximity gave me an idea of what kind of person he was - cold, cruel, calculating. It made my skin crawl.

I clicked away at a game on my phone to ignore the boy sitting next to me. We weren't talking so I took it as a sign that he didn't want to, but then he leaned over closer to me and said, "What do you know?"

"Huh?" I asked stupidly, looking over at him and setting my phone down in my lap.

"What do you know?" He asked again, hardening his stare to intimidate me. I knew what he was talking about - werewolves - but I kept a screen of confusion over my features so I didn't tip him off. He must of bought it, because he said, "McCall and his little friends. What do you know about them?"

Somehow, even sitting right across from me, Presley wasn't aware of the conversation I was having. I wasn't scared of Jackson, but I could feel the danger in our conversation growing as I shrugged my shoulders. "Not much. They're nice."

Wrong answer. Jackson placed a hand on my leg, right above my knee, and squeezed tight. So tight, that I gasped in pain. No one at the table noticed over the rambunctious laughing of teammates. I was on my own.

"I don't know anything," I pried my leg out of his grasp and stood up abruptly, gathering the attention of the lunch table. I could see the question in Presley's eyes, so I looked around the cafeteria for an excuse for my sudden movements. Across the room, I caught sight of Stiles. "I need to talk to someone," I said. I was gone before anyone could ask anything.

I saddled up next to Stiles as he weaved through lunch tables to get over to his own. "Hey," I said to him, following his footsteps with ease.

"Oh, hey." He threw a glance at me over his shoulder, not slowing down to say anything else. He was moving way too quick for a busy lunch room, and even though I hadn't seen it a second ago, his shoulders were tense with anxiety.

Before we made it over to where Scott was sitting, I asked, "Where are you headed in such a hurry."

I got my response when we made it to the table. Scott was sitting in front of a full lunch tray, eyebrows furrowed in thought. Stiles whacked him on the shoulder to get his attention. "Scott," he said, pointing to a nearby table that sat empty in a sea of crowded seats. "See that?"

"What? It's an empty table." Scott sounded annoyed.

"Yeah," Stiles said, looking back at me and rolling his eyes like I should understand what he was saying, "But who's empty table?"

Scott wasn't thinking quickly enough, because I was the one who spoke first. "Boyd," I said. I didn't know if it was anything important, but Stiles and Scott both looked at me as if I'd said something mind-blowing. "What?" I asked. "Am I wrong?"

"No." Scott stood up from his seat, shouldering his backpack and moving to the exit of the cafeteria. He looked back at me. "You're right." Stiles and I followed him and I listened in as they spoke to each other. "We need to get to him before Derek can - change his mind. I'm gonna go to the ice rink and see if he's there, and if he's not at home, you call me. Got it?"

Stiles slowed down his walk until the three of us were standing in the hallway looking at one another. "It's just - maybe we should let him," he said. He saw the question on my face, and before I could ask it, he lowered his voice and explained, "Derek is turning people - Issac and Erica, and now Boyd."

"Exactly," Scott said softly, "Which is why we need to change his mind."

"But you said Derek's giving them a choice, right?" Stiles whispered a few things under his breath that I didn't catch, but Scott did, continuing his walk down the hallway. I grabbed Stiles's elbow and forced him to come along. Soon enough, we were heading to the school's exit once again. "I mean," Stiles continued, not read to back down, "You have to admit, Erica looks pretty good." I scoffed. That was the largest understatement of the year.

Scott wasn't having any of it. "Yeah? Well how do you think she's gonna look with a wolfsbane bullet in her head?" He saw my face scrunch in disgust and nodded at me.

"Alright," Stiles sounded a little more mature when he said, "I'm just saying that maybe this one isn't something you need to handle."

"They all are." Scott stuffed his hands in his jean pockets. "And if this gets out of hand, then that makes me responsible."

We walked in silence for a few minutes, passed a group of freshmen. Stiles was the first to break. "Fine. I'm with you." He made us stop again. "And I also gotta say, this new-found heroism is making me very attracted to you." Scott laughed and I joined in. Stiles pointed at me, "What are we thinking, Quinn?"

I chewed on my response before shrugging my shoulders. "Yeah, he's cute."

"See?" Stiles said, turning to look at Scott with wide eyes. "Should we just try making out for a sec - " Scott pushed on Stiles's shoulder and we started moving again. "Seriously! Just to see how it feels!"

I laughed when Scott sent me a look.

-

The inside of Stiles's Jeep was full of loose pieces of notebook paper and fast food wrappers. I tried not to look at the trash as we made our way to Boyd's house. Stiles glanced at me every few seconds, just as jittery as ever. Finally, when he found something to say, he said, "You know, you don't have to come if you don't want to."

"And miss you getting mauled by werewolves?" I asked, looking over at him with a cocked eyebrow. "As if."

It didn't take long for us to make it to a brick house with barred windows. Stiles brought the car to a jerky stop on the side of the residential street before hopping out and jogging to the front door, calling out for Boyd before he even had a chance to ring the doorbell. I took my time crawling out of the Jeep, taking a minute on the sidewalk in front of the house to straighten out my knee, wincing when it throbbed. Jackson hadn't hurt me too bad, but I could feel the beginning of a bruise forming under my jeans.

The sound of talking caught my attention, and I looked up to see a curly-headed blond on the front porch with Stiles. It didn't take me long to recognize the blond as my previously mousy locker mate Erica, and when I did, it wasn't much longer until she whacked Stiles's face with the blunt edge of a metal mechanical instrument, knocking him out cold.

I didn't mean to, but I gasped, gaining Erica's attention. She turned on her high heel with ease, making her way over to me so slowly that I felt my blood freeze. I had plenty of time to turn and run away, but over her shoulder, I could see Stiles laying on Boyd's front porch, and I decided that I wouldn't be a good friend if I left him behind.

Erica's mouth was moving, but I couldn't hear her over the thrumming of my own heart. I hoped the heavy piece of metal in her hand wouldn't hurt too much as it knocked me out.

I closed my eyes before it cracked into my skull.