"Okay," Stiles dropped his lacrosse bag and net on the bench as he sat down. He held out a black strap with a small monitor attached to Scott. "...put this on."
Scott grabbed it as he studied. "Isn't this one of the heart rate monitors for the track team?"
"Yeah," Stiles confirmed. "I borrowed it."
"You mean you stole it," Gracie corrected him, looking over Scott's shoulder at the monitor.
"Temporarily misappropriated," Stiles insisted. "Coach uses it to monitor his heart rate with his phone while he jogs. You're gonna wear it for the rest of the day."
"Is that Coach's phone too, Stiles?" Scott asked when the Stilinski boy pulled out a phone that wasn't his own.
"That, I stole."
"Why?" Gracie asked.
"All right, well, Scott's heart rate goes up when he shifts, right? When you're playing lacrosse, when you're with Allison, whenever you get angry. Maybe learning to control it is tied to learning to control your heart rate."
"Like the Incredible Hulk," Scott grinned, looking down at the monitor in his hands.
Stiles shrugged. "Kind of like the Incredible Hulk, yeah."
"No, I'm like the Incredible Hulk," Scott insisted.
"Would you shut up and put the stupid strap on?"
"Fine," Scott grumbled, hiking up his shirt to put the heart monitor around his torso. "This isn't exactly how I wanted to spend my free period."
Once Scott had the strap placed around him correctly, Stiles wrapped up his wrists with duct tape behind his back -- for what reason?
Gracie didn't know.
Stiles walked across the field where Gracie was standing with the bag of lacrosse balls, his net held firmly in his hands.
"All right, you ready?" he called to his best friend.
"No."
"Remember, don't get angry," Stiles reminded him. "Gracie, the monitor, please."
Reluctantly, Gracie opened up the monitor app on Coach's phone, starting to think this might not be a great idea when it became obvious what Stiles was doing.
"I'm starting to think this was a really bad idea!" Scott called out to them.
Stiles ignored him and scooped up the ball that Gracie set on the ground, flinging his net back and throwing it at Scott. The ball hit him right in the stomach, causing him to groan and bend over from the pain.
Stiles laughed in glee as Scott's heart rate rose to one hundred and fifteen. He scooped up another ball and whipped it at Scott, hitting him in the chin.
"Wait," Scott groaned.
"Quiet," Stiles demanded. "Remember, you're supposed to be thinking about your heart rate, all right? About staying calm."
"Stay calm," Scott muttered as a ball hit him in the shoulder. "Staying calm. Staying totally calm. There's no balls flying in my face--"
He was cut off as he groaned when another ball hit him in the jaw. Meanwhile, Gracie watched the rapidly-climbing heart monitor as Stiles threw another ball at Scott, hitting him in the chest this time.
"Ow, son of a bitch!"
"You know what?" Stiles smirked. "I think my aim is actually improving!"
"Wonder why?" Scott spat angrily.
"Uh, uh, uh," Stiles clicked his tongue mockingly as the heart monitor rose to one hundred and thirty. "...don't get angry."
"I'm not getting angry."
Stiles continued throwing balls at Scott, hitting him over and over again. But it was becoming too much as Scott started to beg, "Wait, wait. Just-can we just hold--"
Another ball hit Scott in the balls, making a painful groan escape from his lips. He fell to his knees and grunted while the heart monitor started to beep. Stiles peered over Gracie's shoulder as the two watched his heart rate hit one hundred and sixty-three, which Gracie and Stiles knew couldn't be good.
"Scott?" the Hale girl called out to the young beta.
Scott didn't answer, grunting again as he ripped the duct tape around his wrist and gripped at the grass underneath him.
The beeping from the monitor slowed down eventually as his heart rate went back to normal. He sat there, still in his human form, as Stiles approached him.
"Scott?" he said softly. "Scott, you started to change."
"From anger," Scott said, looking up at Stiles and Gracie, who had walked towards him. "But it was more than that. It was like the angrier I got, the stronger I felt."
"So, it is anger, then," Stiles confirmed. "Derek's right."
"I can't be around Allison," Scott declared.
"Just because she makes you happy?" Gracie spoke up, confused.
"No," Scott shook his head. "...because she makes me weak."
When their fifth period ended and Scott had came to the conclusion that Derek was right, Gracie sat in her usual seat as Coach and other students walked into the room.
"Let's go," he urged loudly as the rest of his class filtered in the room. "Sit, sit, sit, sit. We got a lot to cover today. Let's go. Quicker."
"Hey, Stiles," Scott called out from an aisle over. "...sit behind me, dude."
Jumping up with his bag, Stiles beelined for the desk behind Scott. Unfortunately, Allison beat him to the seat and gave him a triumphant smile. Stiles slumped back down in the desk behind Gracie.
"Let's start with a quick summary of last night's reading," Coach started class as students rose their hand with the answer, and Coach Finstock snapped at his least favorite student, "Greenberg, put your hand down. Everybody knows you did the reading. How about, uh..." His voice trailed off as he looked around the room until his gaze landed on his new favorite athlete. "McCall."
Scott looked up, having not paid attention. "What?"
"The reading," Coach said simply, walking towards him.
"Last night's reading?"
"No, how about, uh, the reading of the Gettysburg Address?" Coach muttered sarcastically.
Scott looked at him confused. "What?"
"That's sarcasm. You familiar with the term 'sarcasm,' McCall?"
"Very," Scott nodded, glancing back at Stiles, who smirked.
"Did you do the reading or not?" Coach bluntly asked.
"Uh, I think I forgot..."
"Nice work, McCall," Coach frowned at his student. "It's not like you're not averaging a 'D' in this class. Come on, buddy. You know I can't keep you on the team if you have a 'D.'"
Just like Allison, Gracie gave him a sympathetic look as Coach continued to ream Scott a new one. Scott ducked his head in embarrassment as some started laughing.
"How about you summarize, uh, the previous night's reading?" Coach prompted, and Scott shook his head. "No? How about the, uh, the night before that? How about you summarize anything you've ever read in your entire life?"
"I - I, uh--"
Meanwhile, Stiles was panicking a little as he stared at his phone, monitoring Scott's heart rate, which was rapidly increasing. He rubbed his forward as it started to get dangerously high.
147.
151.
161.
"No?" Coach kept going, practically bullying Scott now. "A blog? How about, uh, how about, uh, the back of a cereal box? No? How about the adults only warning from your favorite website you visit every night? Anything?"
Scott stayed silent, shaking his head in response.
"Thank you, McCall, thank you. Thank you, McCall!" Coach shouted, banging his hand on his desk. "Thank you for extinguishing any last flicker of hope I have for your generation. You just blew it for everybody. Thanks. Next practice you can start with suicide runs. Unless that's too much reading."
And then, as the heart monitor reached a dangerously high number, his heart rate started lowering. Stiles, astonished that Scott calmed down so quickly, studied the new werewolf. With a start, he noticed that Scott and Allison were holding hands under their desks, which the Hale thought was absolutely adorable when she peeked a look as well.
When Economics class ended, Stiles waited outside for Scott and Gracie. He dragged the two halfway down the hallway in case Coach needed to yell at him some more.
"It's her," he told his best friend.
Gracie and Scott looked at him, confused. The Hale girl spoke up first. "What do you mean?"
"It's Allison," Stiles clarified. "Remember what you said about the night of the full moon? You were thinking about her, right? About wanting to protect her."
"Okay."
"Remember the night of the first lacrosse game? You said that you could hear her voice out on the field."
"Yeah, I did."
"Well, so that's what brought you back so you could score," Stiles explained. "And then after the game in the locker room, you didn't kill her -- at least, not like how you were trying to kill me. She brings you back, is what I'm saying."
"No, no, no," Scott disagreed. "...but it's not always true because literally every time I'm kissing her or touching her--"
"--No," Stiles interrupted him. "...that's not the same.
"Yeah, I think Stiles is right," Gracie agreed.
Stiles looked at her confused, a little surprised that she was agreeing with him. "You do?"
"Yeah," the Hale girl nodded. "When you're doing...that with Allison, you're just another hormonal teenage guy thinking about sex, you know?" Scott smiled, looking dazed. Gracie sighed. "You're thinking about sex right now, aren't you?"
"Yeah," Scott apologized. "sorry." Gracie smacked his arm, giving him a disapproving look. "Ow!"
"All I'm saying is...I don't think she makes you weak," she said, walking down the hall with Scott and Stiles. "Derek could be wrong. As cheesy as it sounds, maybe it's like Stiles said. Maybe Allison gives you control."
"You mean because I love her?"
Gracie nodded, smiling at the teen wolf. "Exactly."
Scott stopped, surprised by his casual statement. "Did I just say that?"
Gracie nodded. "Yes, you just said that."
Scott laughed happily. "I love her."
"That's great," Stiles placated him. "Now, moving on--"
"--No, no, really," Scott cut him off. "I think I'm totally in love with her."
"And that's beautiful," Stiles agreed, slightly annoyed. "Now, before you go off and write a sonnet, can we figure this out, please? You obviously can't be around her all the time."
"Yeah, yeah, sorry," Scott focused. "So, what do I do?"
Stiles sighed, aggravated that he didn't have a plan already, glancing over at Gracie. She shrugged at him, having no idea either.
"I don't know yet."
As Scott and Gracie watched him, Stiles paced back and forth for a couple of seconds before grinning in realization.
"Oh, no," Scott groaned, recognizing that famous look. Stiles was putting together a plan. "You're getting an idea, aren't you?"
"Yeah."
"Is this idea gonna get me in trouble?"
"Maybe."
"Is this idea gonna cause me physical pain?"
Stiles nodded, smirking. "Oh, yeah. Definitely."