"Ow – FUCK! Stiles!" I yelped, wincing as we each staggered back, holding our palms to our foreheads and wincing collectively.

"Sorry, Alina," Stiles apologized as Scott cracked up. "Are you okay?"

"I'm fine," I said grudgingly. Even though I likely have a welt the size of an ostrich egg growing on my forehead. I glanced at Stiles. "Are you?"

"Yeah!" He quickly took inventory of his entire body, patting himself down. "Yeah!" he repeated after checking his crotch area.

I narrowed my eyes in disbelief. "Your eye is twitching."

"Nah, I'm good," he insisted, hoisting his backpack into a more comfortable position. "I'm good, really good, totally seriously fine –"

"Did you –"

"Yes, I had my Adderall today," Stiles said, rolling his eyes.

"Oh okay, so you're just a spaz all by yourself then," I said, smirking.

"Didn't we already know that?" Scott chimed in.

"I hate you guys," Stiles informed us as we laughed, walking down the school hallway.

"Aw Stiles, don't say that," I said, reaching over to turn his hat around. I reached into my oversized tote and dangled a plastic Ziploc bag. "I'll make it up to you," I sang.

Stiles' eyes widened at the sight of a huge chocolate chunk cookie studded with M&Ms. "Holy shit, what is that beautiful thing?" he breathed, reaching for it.

I snatched it away just in time. "Please don't drool all over me until we at least get to the lunch table."

"Oh my God, there's Allison," Scott said nervously as we entered the cafeteria. He ducked behind me. "Hide me!"

I rolled my eyes. "I'm four inches shorter than you," I said, sidestepping him and sliding into our usual table. "How were you expecting that to work?" I paused. "Don't answer that." We sat down, and Scott quickly grabbed an oversized book out of Stiles' arms and propped it up in front of himself.

"Hey!" Stiles protested. "I was reading that."

"Wouldn't it be easier to just talk to her?" I asked Scott rhetorically, crunching into an apple.

"No," came the reply from behind The Dummies' Guide to Lycanthropy.

"Shit," Stiles mumbled under his breath.

"I know! Can you believe him?" I snorted, turning to look at my normally less idiotic best friend.

I was met by the cover of A Guide to Battling Mythical Creatures: Online Gaming. I followed Stiles' nervous gaze to strawberry blonde who had just walked by. "Seriously?" I asked the two books. "Really?"

Scott dared sneak a peek from behind the neon yellow cover. "What's she doing?" he asked nervously.

"Eating," I responded slowly. "Because we're at lunch." I stared at them for a moment before sighing and pushing the books down.

"Wha – Alina!"

"I'm not spending lunch talking to two book covers," I said frostily. I leaned forward. "Guys, I thought we discussed this. I thought you were going to go talk to them!"

"I can't," Scott hissed, successfully wrenching the book back. Goddamn wolf strength.

"I second that," Stiles chimed in, who thankfully possessed none of Scott's physical power.

I sighed. "Stiles, what's your problem? Scott's avoiding Allison because her family wants to kill him, which kind of makes sense. Somewhat. In a twisted, Shakespeare way. Why are you avoiding Lydia?"

"Because."

I cocked an eyebrow. "I thought she was only 40% evil," I said, grinning.

"On a good day," he clarified.

"What's wrong with today?"

"Apparently she and Jackson got into some kind of fight, and now she looks pissed," Stiles answered, nervously regarding the petite redhead.

"What's Allison doing now?" Scott piped up. Both of us ignored him.

"That's her normal expression," I assured Stiles. "Plus you know my brother is always a jackass, so it can't have been any different than the usual. Want me to talk to them?"

"No, it's okay," Stiles said, shoulder slightly slumped. "I don't have a chance with her anyway." He sounded so dejected I wanted to hug him.

"Hey," I said instead, nudging him gently. "Remember this?" I dangled the cookie in front of his face and his eyes lit up.

"You're the best, Alina," Stiles said through a mouthful of buttery cookie.

"I know," I said smugly. My heart jumped oddly at his words.

"How come you don't bring me cookies?" Scott pouted, finally laying the book aside.

"I don't like you as much," I joked. "And you're allergic to gluten." I rummaged through my bag and came up with a pack of gum. "Want one?" I asked, offering it to him.

"Good idea," he said, unwrapping a piece and sticking it in his mouth. "Allison always likes it when I taste minty."

"Oh God," Stiles moaned, covering his ears. "Could you please just not go there?"

"Sorry," Scott said with a huge, unapologetic grin. Stiles and I sighed. The bell rang, snapping Scott out of his Allison-induced daze. The boy was so incredibly whipped it was a wonder he didn't trail after her the entire day like some adoring puppy. Although I suspected the only reason this wasn't, in fact, already true, was because of the minor issue of the Argents being a family of werewolf hunters.

"My favorite fucking class of the day," Stiles muttered as we headed to Chemistry.

"I swear Harris has a vendetta against us," Scott agreed, shaking his head.

I inhaled. "Maybe it'll be different this year. Maybe –"

"Maybe if you stopped talking, Miss Whittemore, you'll actually get through this day without earning detention," Mr. Harris intoned sardonically as we walked in. My nostrils flared. "He's a fucking asshole," I agreed under my breath as we took our seats.

"Told you," Stiles said, drumming his fingers on his notebook. I slouched back in my chair with annoyance. Would it kill Harris to act like an actual fucking human being for once? The door opened, and Jackson leisurely strolled in. Though it was three minutes past the time class started, all Mr. Harris said was "Take a seat, Mr. Whittemore." For some weird reason none of us can fathom, he seems to have a soft spot for my brother. I scowled at my notebook, doodling, as Harris went over the plan for today in his usual monotone. Stiles snickered at my drawing and leaned over to embellish it. I tried to swallow my laughter. For some reason I seem to get really giddy when I'm around him lately. I wonder if it's the way he smells. It's like that freshly-showered, slightly soapy scent combined with the barest hint of cologne. I wonder what kind he uses. Armani, maybe? No, Stiles isn't really an Armani type of guy. Dolce & Gabbana? Calvin Klein? Ralph -

"And what have we here, Mr. Stilinski?" Harris said dryly as he passed our desks. Stiles frantically tried to crumple the doodle up before Mephistopheles could get a good look, but he was too late. Harris held the sheet of paper up to the light, giving the rest of the class an excellent view of a sketch of himself complete with devil horns and forked tail.

"An interesting likeness, but unfortunately this is Chemistry class and not kindergarten. Detention, Mr. Stilinski. You too, Ms. Whittemore." Scott shook his head with sympathy as Stiles tipped his head back with resignation. Jackson looked over at me with a mixture of amusement and pity in his expression. Isaac, surprisingly, let out a snort of laughter he quickly tried to hide by disguising it as a cough. At least someone appreciates my sense of humor.

Damn it. I don't understand why this man takes such pleasure in detaining us after school. Isn't 40 minutes in our company every day enough for him?

"And you thought he was going to be different," Stiles said as we (finally!) left the classroom.

"Wishful thinking," I said morosely. We stopped at my locker as I reached in to pull out the books I needed for later.

"Alina!" Lydia bounced over to me. Stiles immediately straightened up from his relaxed posture and ran a hand through his hair. Unfortunately, his efforts went unnoticed. Though a part of me was secretly glad Lydia was so oblivious to his infatuation.

I just think she's not his type, that's all.

"Hey," I greeted her, shutting my locker and shrugging my Alexander Wang leather jacket on. "What's up?"

"Can you talk to Jackson for me?" she asked bluntly.

"What?" I said, taken aback.

"Come on, you're his sister," she wheedled as Stiles looked away uncomfortably. "Can't you convince him this breakup was a mistake?"

"Despite what everyone thinks, I have no special insight into what goes on in his head," I told her. "He couldn't care less about my opinion."

"Still, you have a thing." I wrinkled my nose. Ew. That did not come out right. "You know what I meant," Lydia said, brushing it off. "It's been scientifically proven that twins have a special connection."

"If you mean we tolerate each other, you're right," I said, starting to walk.

Lydia scurried to keep up with my long strides. "Not all of us are 5'7," she said, annoyed.

I slowed down, sighing. "Sorry. But if you want to get back together with him, you're going to have to talk to him yourself."

She sniffed. "Fine. Allison and I are going shopping later. Want to come?" she offered.

"I can't," I said regretfully. I jerked my head towards Stiles. "We have detention."

"You two don't waste any time," she snorted.

"We have a special talent for pissing Harris off," I admitted. "But I'll see you later?"

Stiles watched her go. "I'm starting to think she and I are a lost cause," he said to her retreating figure.

"I'm sorry," I said sincerely.

He perked up. "Don't be," he said, slinging an arm around my shoulder. "I've come to peace with it at this point."

"Take a seat," Mephistopheles said without looking up. I narrowed my eyes at him as Stiles and I deliberately dropped ourselves into the two seats that were as far away from him as possible.

"You know the rules. Or at least, you should by now," Harris said, allowing himself a brief smile at his own unfunny joke. "No talking, no moving, no-"

"-breathing, laughing, or existing," I finished for him as quietly as I could manage. Stiles chuckled appreciatively. We did our homework in relative peace, though I checked the clock every two minutes. Time was moving depressingly slowly. I slid my phone out of my pocket as slyly as I could manage. Come with me tonight? I texted to Stiles.

His phone buzzed, and he quickly slapped a hand over it before daring to type an answer. Shopping? Not my thing.

Please? J

Ugh…FINE. But you owe me a giant pretzel.

Only if you let me pick out a shirt for you.

No.

I'll get you the kind with cinnamon sugar sprinkled on top.

FINE!

I grinned at my small victory, though Stiles did not look pleased. As soon as the minute hand clicked to three o'clock, we jumped out of our seats and bolted before Harris found another reason to detain us.

"Finally," I sighed, resting my head against the back of the passenger seat in Stiles' Jeep. "Do you know if Scott will be there too? Because-"

"Sorry, but your plans are going to have to wait," a gravelly voice said from the backseat.

Stiles jumped in fright, whacking his head on the top of the car. "Ow! What the hell, Derek?" he said. Derek looked back at him threateningly. "Sorry," Stiles said quickly, averting his gaze.

"What are you doing here?" I demanded.

Derek leaned forward. "Just drive," he said menacingly into Stiles' ear.

This will be mostly AU, some canon but mixed in with other stuff. I'm also having the characters be seniors in school, because it makes more sense to me that way. There will be more about Alina, our OC, in the next chapter. Please review! x