Beacon Hills High School. I stared at the sign for a few moments, contemplating about how I should do this. It had been so long since I had been here, so long since I'd been to a school in general.

After visiting the Hale house; I'd came across the conclusion that my old pack had completely departed since the fire. They, like me, had left the town. I missed them, I really did, and part of me wondered whether they were having happy lives wherever they were. My life certainly hadn't been happy.

For the past six months; I had been on the run. The year before that I had been part of a pack that treat me like dirt. They beat me, punished me, in ways that could not be thought possible for me to survive. I had the scars to prove it. The fact that the whole of the pack were males except me made it worse because I had no-one I could truly trust.

I wanted to see Derek and Laura again, heck; even Peter would help bring me out of my shell a little. From what I remembered though; Peter had been very badly effected by the fire. He couldn't talk, couldn't walk, he was completely unresponsive. I had no idea how much had changed since I had last been here.

Now I was an omega; a lone wolf. I had no pack, but at that moment I didn't care. My experiences with werewolves over the past couple of years meant I was very skittish around them, very skittish around anyone really.

Finally; I allowed myself to move closer to the school. My head was low, my longish brown hair hiding most of my face from view. I really did not like to stand out but, after two months of not running into any of those from the torturous pack, I had decided that I needed to find somewhere I could live.

I had hoped Derek would be in Beacon Hills but apparently not. Hopefully I would see him again someday.

The school loomed over me as I got closer and god knows how many times I thought about turning around. I noticed a couple of people looking at me and realized that I had been recognized. The whispers around me were mostly those trying to figure out where they recognized me from though. I made my way quickly to the office and walked inside, going to the desk.

"Ah, Miss Nolan, I presume?" Said the lady at the desk. "It's so good to have you back with us. How long has it been since you left? Three years?"

She was notably short and very plump. Her age looked to be between her mid thirties to her early forties though it was hard to tell. Her thick blonde hair was tied into a tight bun, the skirt suit that she was wearing was plain and quite boring though her very pink lips added a little color to her attire.

"Two years, seven months and two days." I corrected softly.

"Ah, yes." said the receptionist. "Ever since your parents drove their car off that cliff. You went to stay with relatives in Ohio, correct?"

I nodded, sticking to the story I had made up when I left. "Yeah" I replied.

"Well, here's your class schedule." The woman said as she passed over a piece of paper. "I'll take you over to your first class and get you someone assigned to show you around." She stood up and walked over to the door, opening it for me to walk through. I stepped tentatively out into the hallway.

She closed the door behind us and turned to our left, heading down that way past many classrooms. We stopped outside of a wooden door with a small window. There was a metal plate that read Mr Roberts, History. I liked history, well at least I used to. It had been so long since I had a lesson so I couldn't really remember.

The receptionist woman opened the door and walked inside, giving me a gesture to follow her.

"Sorry to interrupt, Mr Roberts, but I have a new student here to join your class." she said.

Mr Roberts was a relatively tall man with almost black hair. It was shaggy and riddled with grey, as was his goatee. He was dressed in a black suit, a red tie loosely hung around his collar.

He nodded then smiled.

"This is Rebekah Nolan. Some of you probably recognize her from a few years ago before she left but now she's back." The woman glanced around the room but I kept my eyes locked on the ground. There were a couple of hushed murmurs at my name.

"Mr Stilinski, you can show her around the school for today." she added before turning to leave. I recognized that name somehow and glanced up. Yeah, it was Stiles. The son of the Sheriff.

Stiles clattered down onto all four legs of his chair, his eyes looking between me and the receptionist. "Me?" he asked, in a deeper voice than I had expected. I needed to keep reminding myself of how much people had changed since I was last here.

"Yes, you, Stilinski." said Mr Roberts as the receptionist left. Then he looked at me. "There's a spare desk near the back of the room, over there." He pointed and I nodded, hurriedly moving over and sitting down.

Then Mr Roberts continued his lecture about the Vikings which the receptionist and I had apparently interrupted. I dreaded the end of class, knowing the questions that people would be asking me. I really did not like attention like that. My eyes flickered to the clock, willing time to slow down.