laid restless in your bed, tossing and turning, trying to escape all of
the thoughts rushing through your mind. You turned and grabbed you
phone, the brightness of the screen stinging your eyes. 2:17am it
flashed at you. “Great.” You sighed, twiddling your fingers. You let the
minutes pass as you stared at your ceiling, it felt like hours. “That’s
it.” You grunted as you kicked the sheets off of your pale skin,
grabbed what you needed from your drawers and headed for outside.
You lived in a massive warehouse that belonged to Derek Hale. Isaac,
Cora, Boyd and Erica shared the home as well. Derek had found you months
ago stranded in the middle of the woods in the pouring rain after you
had just ran away from your abusive home containing a drunk step-father.
Derek didn’t even give you a chance to say no, or barely even introduce
yourself before he was gum-deep in your side.
You had just moved back to Beacon Hills after living with your dad for the three years. Today was the first day back at school, and the first day of Junior year. Your mum had put you in all of the same classes as your twin brother, Scott McCall, and you had Economics with Coach Finstock first up.
You and Scott sat next to each other and your best friend, Stiles, sat in front of you. You three began to talk, not noticing that coach had started to call the roll and that people were actually answering.
“Greenberg……. Argent.. Martin.. Lahey.. Yukimura.. McCall…wait a minute. McCall I’ve got you twice on this class roll, Jesus, imagine having two of you..what a nightmare…” Coach said, but none of you heard him.
“McCall!” He shouted.
“Yeah?” Yourself and Scott said in unison as you looked up.
Coach looked confused. He looked at Scott, then back at you, then back at Scott, then back at you, shocked when noticing your similarities as you raised the same brow at the same time. Coach lifted the class roll back up and searched for your last names once again. He noticed the sticky note at the bottom of the page.
“Coach Finstock, Introducing Ms. (Y/N) McCall into your class. Please make her feel welcome.” The principal had written.
Coach rubbed his face with his hand in sheer disbelief. “Oh dear God, there is two of you.” He sighed. “Welcome Ms. McCall.” He got it over and done with and everyone stared at you.
It was October 30th, mischief night. Usually, most students don’t bother doing anything, they just wait until Halloween itself, but you and your twin brother spent the entire year, every year coming up with a new way to play tricks on Coach Finstock.
This year, however, you both decided that seeing as it was Senior Year, your last of high school, AND Coach’s birthday, why leave the tricks anonymous? You both planned to leave a small card near the trick.
Your twin brother, Stiles Stilinski, walked into his Economics class with a grin on his face as he sat next to his best friend, Scott McCall. His grin widened as he heard Coach Finstock yelling in his office. “Son of a bitch!” He yelled and the class let out a laugh. Stiles had left a gift box on Coach’s desk, filled with seemingly harmless bolts and screws, but as Coach lifted the box to take a closer look, everything in his office, connected by a sting under the box, fell to the ground. “STILINSKI!” He screamed after reading the small card, and Stiles could barely contain his laughter.
Coach stepped out of his office just as you pranced into his class. “What up, Finstock?” You teased in a cool-girl voice. You had gotten a transfer into his Economics class as the other teacher was too confusing for you. You placed your transfer slip on his desk and made your way to your brother. “You will spend the rest of your days in detention if you don’t clean that up after class, Stilinski.” Coach snapped. “Woah, Coach, what happened in there?” You asked, laughing at the consequences of your twin brother’s actions. “And who the hell are you?” Coach sneered. You pointed at the slip on his desk, “sign it” you told him. Coach picked up the slip and read the last name on it. Your impression of a “card” to him. “Stilinski.” He whispered in disgust. “It literally sickens me to my very core that there are two of you on this earth.” He exclaimed. “I better use my lucky pen for this one.” He added. “Oh yes, that one and that one only!” You smirked. As he picked up his pen, your pre-planned attack went into motion. Coach didn’t take notice of the string attached to his pen, and as he tugged it over to the paper, everything in the classroom fell to the floor, just like it had in his office.
“STILINSKI!” He screamed in rage, this time at you. All you and your brother could do was high five and sit back to take the consequences.