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"Allison." Derek's voice rang out.
Capturing Argent's attention as her gaze shifted from Scott's hasty departure to the ominous figure with a chiselled jaw standing behind her.
"I'm a friend of Scott's." He declared, and I couldn't help but emit an audible scoff in response, seizing the perfect opportunity to position myself between him and Allison, a smirk playing on my lips.
"Wow, funny how that works." I said, my smile oozing with sarcasm. "Considering Scott didn't know your name till yesterday."
His scowl deepened, clearly irked by my interruption of his little tête-à-tête with Allison. But of course, I remained unfazed, casually pivoting and fixing my gaze upon the damsel in distress.
"My fair lady, might you be in need of a ride home?" I struck a pose, extending my hand toward her neck, as if preparing to embark on a theatrical performance. If I was going to play the part, I might as well commit to the whole charade.
"...Sure." Allison responded, rolling her eyes awkwardly as she accepted my offer.
"It has been an absolute displeasure, Mr.Creep." I graciously uttered, bidding a courteous goodnight to Derek as I walked past him, leading Allison towards my trusty Jeep.
As Allison climbed into my magnificent jeep, I couldn't help but relish in the sight of Derek grinding his teeth. With one last disdainful glance in his direction and a fleeting farewell to the forgettable party, I pressed on the pedal with a sense of purpose.
The car gracefully turned the corner and Lydia's house disappeared from view, leaving Allison to sigh deeply.
The air in the car grew heavy with an awkward silence, and I had no intention of blurting out something mind-numbingly stupid that would inadvertently offend her, especially since she seemed utterly bewildered by the events of this evening.
"So..." she finally spoke, breaking the uneasy hush. "What happened to Scott?"
"Uh..." I trailed off, mirroring her uncertainty. "I think he had an asthma attack."
"Oh, is he going to be ok?" She inquired, and for a brief moment, I shifted my attention away from the road to meet her gaze.
Somehow, an inexplicable intuition told me that her concern for Scott was far from genuine. Her eyes mirrored those of the partygoers—nothing more than a facade, a mere formality.
"Yeah." I replied with a confident nod, redirecting my focus to the road ahead.
"And who was that guy back there?" She asked.
"Oh him? That's Derek, he is a bit of a creep." I smiled shifting the gear to pick up the pace.
My eyes flickered to the rearview mirror, catching sight of the black Camaro trailing behind my Jeep.
The car fell into an awkward silence once more, which left me with an irresistible urge to break the ice and bombard her with a barrage of questions.
"So... You and Scott?" I inquired, clearly attempting to gauge her level of interest in their supposed relationship.
"..." She stared at me sceptically, leaving me no choice but to rephrase my query.
"Are you guys, like, a thing or something?"
"What? No!" She swiftly shook her head, although the motion seemed to lose a bit of its conviction. "I don't know."
"You don't know?" I raised an eyebrow, intrigued by her response.
"Well, uh..." She rolled her eyes in my direction, prompting my eyebrows to raise even further.
"Alright, so a few nights ago, I was driving back home when I accidentally hit this random dog. It was totally not my fault, okay? Anyway, I had to rush the poor thing to the vet-"
"And lo and behold, Scott was there." I interjected, completing her tale.
"Yeah, somehow he ended up taking care of it, and when he invited me to this party, I couldn't just say no." She concluded with a sigh, abruptly pointing towards a turn.
"Take a right there." she directed.
I nodded, clumsily manoeuvring the steering as the car ventured into a street lined with row houses—good ol' Greener Avenue.
Carefully, I parked the Jeep in front of a white-painted house, and Allison hopped out of the car, joining me on the opposite side.
"Anyway, thanks for the ride..." Her voice trailed off, expecting me to provide her with my name.
"Stilinski, Stiles Stilinski." I declared, channelling my inner James Bond.
"Stiles." she smiled. "Thanks."
"No problemo." I grinned in return, starting the engine. I patiently waited until she safely entered her house before driving the Jeep away from the Avenue, heading towards the beach road.
Whatever turmoil Scott was going through, it didn't seem to affect me in the slightest.
I felt completely normal, as if the wolf bites had bestowed upon me a different breed of werewolf than Scott.
Heck, I didn't even experience an ounce of extra energy, let alone any insatiable bloodlust.
Lost in thought, I silently contemplated the contrasting symptoms that Scott and I experienced.
Our physical transformations seemed to be perfectly aligned.
We both had enhanced hearing, heightened sense of smell, and impressive reflexes, agility, and strength.
But everything else? Well, that's where things got a bit wonky.
I didn't suddenly turn into a sleepwalker like Scott did.
And while I had vivid dreams about some doppelganger, Scott was spared from that delightful experience.
Scott appeared to be sailing through with his emotions intact, while I found myself grappling with fits of rage and an unsettling urge to go on a killing spree.
These details set us apart as whole.
"You missed the turn." A voice chimed in, snapping me out of my thoughts.
"Ahhhhh!" I panicked, slamming on the brakes as someone whispered directly into my ear from behind.
The seatbelt did its job, jerking me back into place but the poor soul behind me wasn't as fortunate as they toppled into the front seats.
I took a deep breath and glanced down at Tara's face planted against my thighs.
"What the hell, Tara?!" I pushed her legs off me and watched as she slowly settled herself in the seat beside me.
"Hi." She greeted me with zero enthusiasm.
"Hi?" I rolled my eyes, slamming my hands on the steering wheel as I shot her a pointed look.
"Hi?! What the heck were you doing back there? Actually, scratch that, when did you even sneak into my jeep?!" I erupted.
"The deathly beats of hip-hop were murdering my eardrums at the party, and Amber wouldn't let me leave alone. So, I sought refuge in your jeep, considering it was the only vehicle I could access without resorting to breaking and entering." She responded, nonchalant as ever, without batting an eyelid at the sheer ridiculousness of her explanation.
"You're absolutely unbelievable." I muttered under my breath as I fired up the jeep's engine once more.
"Where are you heading?" Tara inquired, clearly unfazed by my attempt at the silent treatment. "Being quiet doesn't suit you, Stiles."
I let out a weary sigh as the jeep pulled up in front of a quaint, softly lit bookshop. I pointed at the sign above the entrance and spelled it out for Tara.
"Thunderbird and Whales."
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