How You Meet (Teen Wolf #1)
Ever since moving from Chicago to Beacon Hills life has been uneventful. I am merely getting through classes and floating under the social radar until today.
It began fairly normal, just collecting my books from my locker. Simple. Collect and go. That’s what I do. Walking towards my first class I realize that I might have forgotten my chemistry homework. Not wanting to be late I check my binder as I walk. Bad choice.
One second I’m on my feet, another I’m on my butt with my papers everywhere. To makes matters worse the bell just rang. Great.
I crane my neck up to see the rude person who had caused this predicament. And the rude person is super cute. Dark brown hair, light eyes, cute smile, great build.Oh no. But he didn’t even notice.
“Yo Scott, you gonna stop staring at the lockers and help the poor girl up?” the guy in a yellow hoodie ask the cute one.
“Huh?” he says clearly in a daze. Still with a goofy smile on his face he looks down at me. “Oh! I’m so sorry! I was kinda staring at yo- your locker. Lovely color.” he says reaching a hand down to help me up.
“No it’s my bad, I wasn’t looking at where I was going.” I reply shyly with a little chuckle.
“I’m Scott,” he tells me, handing me all of my papers and books. Shit I’m late!
“Thanks Scott,” I offer, grabbing the books from his hands and rushing down the hall. “See you around.”
“Wait! I never got your name!” He yells at me.
I stop at the corner looking back at him. “Y/N.” He smiles and nods, and I take that as my cue to leave.
Hopefully I’ll be seeing Scott soon.
I have always loved making new friends. That’s why when my mom told me that her friend had a son the same age as me I was enthusiastic. It was hard to find friends who were four in this neighborhood.
Mommy dressed me up in my usual cute shirt and jean shorts, and we are on our way. The walk was short, but I continued to talk her ear off because I was so excited. Soon she knocks on a big door and a nice looking lady opens the door.
She hugs my mom before squatting down to my height .“Hi sweetie, I’m Mrs. Stilinski.” She says giving me a warm smile as I hide behind my mom’s leg.
“Sorry about that. She’s usually not this shy,” my mom apologizes.
The lady laughs. “It’s alright. Stiles is the same way.”
Now is when I notice the boy looking back at me from behind the lady’s legs. He must be Stiles.
“Honey why don’t you go show Y/N your toys?” She ask him. We look at each other for a moment before he gestures me to follow him.
We walk down the hallway in silence. I follow him into his room which is full of toys.
“What do you want to play with?” he ask me. I look around his room. I usually don’t play with boy things so I look for something I like. Then I see it.“Can we paint?”
He gives me a huge smile as he runs to grab the buckets of paint on the shelf. “Let’s go to the bathroom. Mommy doesn’t like paint on the carpet.”
The two of us walk to the bathroom, place the paint in the tub, sit on the ledge and begin painting. We didn’t have paper so we used the walls and each other.
Time passes as we giggle and paint. This was the most fun play date I have ever had. “I really like you Stiles.”
He looks as me and giggles. “I like you to Y/N. Can we be friends?”
Then the door burst open and two angry moms walk in. “What are you two doing?!?” Mrs. Stilinski practically yells at the two of you
“It was them!” We yell at the same time.
And that was the beginning of an amazing friendship.
Moving into a new apartment was tough. Not knowing where stuff was at the grocery store nearby was worse. All I needed is milk and what was the only sign that they didn’t have? Milk!
I’m just going to ask. I don’t see why I didn’t do it earlier. I walk around looking for a worker. Finally I see a man in the bread section.
“Excuse sir, do you know where the milk is?” I ask. He turns to face me and damn was he attractive. Tall, with dark hair, green eyes, manly scruff, and an amazing body. Who knew guys like that worked at a grocery store.
He looks down at me, offering a forced smile. “Follow me.”
We walk down multiple isles, taking every twist and turn. He continues to look back at me with a weird smile. Soon enough we are back at the bread.
“Um excuse me? I need milk. Why the field trip?” I ask him clearly confused.
He gives me a devilish smile. “We don’t sell milk.”
“Seriously? You couldn’t have told me that!” I almost yell at him. It has been a long, stressful day and this jerk isn’t helping my situation.
He bust out laugh. The nerve! “Look I’m sorry but I don’t even work here.”
“Then why would you wear something that look exactly like their uniform?!?”
“It was a coincidence. I’ll get your milk. You look like you need it.” Without another word he stalks off.
I rub my hands up and down my face. I just want to go home.
“Here.” I look up through my fingers and he’s there holding out a carton of milk. And it was the right kind.
“Thanks…” I say taking it from him and turning to leave. “Bye.”
“Derek Hale.” He says to my back.
All I give him is a thumbs up. He doesn’t need to know more. I have a feeling I’ll be seeing him around anyways.
Black Friday in Beacon Hills is one of my favorite times. It was a time when my friends and I can get together and shop all we want and relax. School, sports, and family had kept us all so busy.
The night starts out smooth, we go to all of the busiest stores, getting items here and there. Eventually we start to get tired and need a snack break.
“Do you guys want to grab a bite?” Y/f/N asks. Everyone nods their head ready to get food and restore the energy we had already lost.
Looking at my list I’m the only one who disagrees. “I just need one more thing then I should be at a good spot for a break,” I inform them earning a groan. “It’ll only be minute. Just go on without me and I’ll meet you all wherever you decide.“
They all grumble in agreement before marching off like hunger driven zombies.
Looking down at my list, all I need is something from H&M for my cousin. The store isn’t hard to find seeing as it is fairly full and buzzing with activity.
I squish through the crowd, coming into the male section instantly looking at different outfits. I’ve been searching for an outfit but nothing seems right. I just finished another rack when I see the perfect T-shirt… That happens to be on a manikin. I waste no time rushing over. I touch the shirt which is a very light yellow, soft, long sleeve and a little bit warm. That's odd. I go walk around to the front, but the arm swings at me.
"Ahhh!" I scream. And that's when the "manikin" starts to laugh at me. "Oh my gosh I'm so sorry," I apologize my face red with embarrassment. "I thought you were a manikin."
"Trying to say I look fake?" The rather cute boy inquires.
"No no no, I just-" my sentence is cut off with him laughing... Again.
"Sorry I've just never been mistaken for an intimate object before," he says letting out a giggle.
"Look I said I'm sorry..."
"I'm sorry Issac. Is there any way I can make it up to you?" He scratches his chin playfully, taking his time deciding.
Now I finally notice how nice looking he actually is. Super tall, lean but muscular, brown curly hair, great smile. Just my type as my friends would say.
"Coffee." He says snapping me out of my thought.
"You. Me. Coffee. After this."
"Oh umm. I'll just have to text my friends since they are kinda waiting for me."
Suddenly his shy side appears. Slouching, red cheeks, bashful smile. "Oh yeah sorry. I was really direct. You don't have to or anything just a thought."
"How about tomorrow, when I don't look like a hot mess?"
He accepts. "Sounds good. Can I get your number?" Soon numbers are exchanged and phones are buzzing. "Great Y/N! Can't wait to see you later." He says giving me a warm smile.
We have turned our separate directions and continue on our way. "Wait Y/N!"
"You may be hot but you're not a mess." He yells at me from across the mall with what I think is a wink. I quickly wave and turn before he can see my lame smile and blushing cheeks.
Today was the big day. Devenford Prep finally gets to play our stupid rivals, Beacon Hills. I can’t help to be nervous. We’re a good team, but so is Beacon Hills. It kind of rough being the only girl on a team that consist of huge, strong, fast boys, but I’ve learned to hold my one.
As we stand in the locker room waiting to go out on the field and play, I can hear the crowd and feel the energy pulsing through the air. The whistle blows and we are running out to play. The audience roars as we take our starting positions. The whistle blows and the game begins.
The game’s a close one. Fourth quarter, thirty seconds left, 3-3, and the ball in my hands. I race down the field, dodging tackles and bumps. Finally I find the perfect shot. I swing as hard as I can and as soon as the ball leaves the net I feel a hard contact on my right side. On the ground, I can hears the cheers, but all I can feel is the pain. And a heavy weight on top of me. As soon as the weight disappears, I see my coaches, the referee, and the sports trainer standing over me.
“Let’s get her to the locker room,” my coach says. With little effort they help me stand up and I feel the pain throbbing in my left forearm. I don’t even want to look, so I look at the score board instead. 4-3 Devenford Prep. At least this wasn’t all for nothing.
“That stupid pipsqueak!” I tell Scott furiously. We were in the locker room after the game. Even as I put my sweatshirt on I am still fuming. “If I had been two seconds earlier I could have stopped that guy. How’d he even get that far? The kids like 2 feet tall!”
Scott just laughs at me. “It’s okay, alright? It’s just one game.”
“But it wasn’t just one game! It was Devenford Prep!” I burst out.
Scott stops me by putting his hand on my shoulder. I turn around to look up at him. “You need to calm down. Stop getting so worked up. You need to keep your cool. And on top of all of this I think you broke the poor guys arm.”
“But Scott,” I try to protest. He gives me a look so I turn around and walk toward the opposing team’s locker room.
I walk in and knock on the locker so that I don’t startle anyone. The coach comes from around the corner, sees me, and glares down.
“Can I just see your player please?” I ask nervously. I get a solemn nod and he walks out of the exit. I walk a little farther, turn around the corner and see the poor guy I tackled.
Except he’s not a guy. He’s a very pretty girl actually. Wow!
Once she hears me her gaze travels from her lap onto my face. I don’t think I’ve ever seen a girl so pretty. Oh no, I tackled and broke her arm! I open my mouth to apologize, but I can’t find the words.
“Umm, hi.” I hear from across the room.
“Hey,” I reply nervously, rubbing the back of my neck.
“So I’m guessing you’re the guy that broke my arm?”
“Look I didn’t mean to but-“
“But?” She gives me a little smirk as if she knows what I’m about to say.
I can’t help but give her a small smile. “But you’re really good. Not even I could have made that shot.”
From that remark she gives me a big beaming smile. She’s about to say something else when the sports trainer walks in.
“Hello sir,” she greets me then turns her attentions back to the girl. “Alright Ms. Y/N, it’s time to go get a cast on this nasty break.”
Y/N, as I just found out, gets off of the table she was sitting on and heads towards the exit.
I watch her turn the corner and leave. “Gosh, that was awful. Great first impression Liam,” I tell myself, as I lean towards the lockers and rest my head on it. I can’t even talk to a pretty girl or apologize for breaking her arm.
“Yes?” I can’t look as her, thinking I’d die of embarrassment.
“I think you own me for this broken arm.” I just know there’s a smirk on her face.
I can’t help but smile. “Tomorrow. Meet me at the entrance of the school. 5 o’clock?”
Gosh, I can’t wait for tomorrow.
It’s hard having your parent teach at the same high school you attend. Especially when they try to hook you up with their “star” student. Luckily, theirs a rule saying teachers can’t teach their own children so I’ve been spared the torture.
But my mother always pops up and weasels into my school work. Especially now. Beacon Hills has two Calculus classes. She teaches one and I attend the other. Lately I haven’t been doing too well and she has begun to notice.
“Really honey, you have to stop fooling around and pick up your grade. This is getting ridiculous.” She mom scolds me. We’re currently sitting in her classroom after school. /since she’s my ride I can’t exactly go home. I have to sit and listen.
“I’m not fooling around Mom. It’s not my fault that I don’t understand the material.” I argue back.
“Why didn’t you bring this up earlier Y/N. I have an amazing student who would happily tutor you.”
“Mom, I’ve heard enough about this star student.”
“I’m going to ask him and that’s it. You will be going to college in a few years and these grades matter. Now drop it. Just come here after school tomorrow and I’ll introduce you.” I can tell by her tone that I will never win this.
The next day I drag my feet down the hall, on my way to my mother’s classroom. Even my music blaring in my ear doesn’t cheer me up. Until my jam comes on. The halls are empty so I being to dance and jam out until I reach my mother door. I’m still doing my awful dance moves as I enter the class room. That’s when I realize that she’s not alone.
One of the most attractive guys I have ever seen to standing across from my mother, who is trying to hold in a laugh. I quickly turn my music off, yank my ear buds from the ears, and shove them into my pocket. Talk about embarrassing.
“Y/N, this is Jackson Whittemore. The excellent student I was telling you about.”
“Jackson,” He says offering me his hand to shake. I just stare at it.
“Now Y/N, be-“ my mother beings to scold me but Jackson cuts her off.
“It’s okay Mrs. Y/L/N. I completely understand.” Jackson tells her, producing his movie star smile for her.
She sighs. “Well I have to go get some papers in the office. Y/N be nice. I’ll be back in a bit.” And with that she leaves the two of us alone.
“You realize that she’s only doing this because she wants you to succeed right?” He tells me as he takes a seat on my mom’s desk.
I continue to glare at him. “Yeah, I know. I just hate always being compared to her “star” student Whittemore.”
“Come on, how about this? We study until the next test. You pass I’ll say we’re studying together but I won’t bother you anymore. You fail, we continue to study and you go on a date with me.” He says with a cocky smile.
“Sounds good sweetheart. See you tomorrow in the library after school.” And with that he picks up his bag, stands up, and saunters out of the classroom.
What has my mom gotten me in to.
