- all pack including Sheriff, Argent and Mellisa sitting at the big table eating pizza and deer, smiling and then Scott stand up and say: “I want to make a toast to Erica, Boyd, Aiden and Allison. We love you and miss you everyday”
I just want some of this things Jeff, not everything, some of!!
Imagine: Stiles agreeing with all the insults coach sends at Greenberg because he got to you first
Stiles was standing next to Scott and behind coach Finstock while he complained about you going to the dance with Greenberg. Being coaches niece, Stiles makes sure to talk extra loud so coach hears.
“Hey, Greenberg! If you keep dragging your stick on the ground I’m gonna shove up your-”
“Hey, coach, how ‘bout I go and replace Greenberg for a bit?” Scott suggested, giving Stiles a look over his shoulder as he set a hand on theirs coach’s shoulder.
Finstock looked at him and sighed. “Go. Greenberg, get your ass over here.”
Stiles snickered and covered his mouth and Finstock turned and rose an eyebrow at him. “You find this funny, Stilinski?”
Stiles’ face lifted a little and he shrugged. “A little.”
Meanwhile, at Lydia’s house, you were dressed in a skin tight, cherry red mini dress that likely showed off your butt and various other parts you’d prefer people not see. As you unzipped the dress, Lydia made a noise of excitement and emerged from her closet with a black dress that looked like it was a good length.
“This one should do it. It’s not skin tight and it’s got a bit of flare to it. Try it on,” she shoved it at you and put the dress you had been wearing before back in her closet.
You slid into the dress and zipped it up, looking in the mirror. It wasn’t bad and it accented all the right places so you weren’t gonna say no. You nodded. “Yeah, it’s alright.”
“You look great,” Allison said, this being her first time speaking since you got to Lydia’s. She was draped across the bed and reading an old, falling apart book.
“Thanks,” you blushed and sat in front of Lydia’s mirror to do your makeup, looking back at Lydia who was getting dressed into her own dress. It with pale green and contrasted her hair gorgeously, making her look like some sort of she-devil sent to steal boyfriends and crush hearts. God, you hated her for being so beautiful.
By the time all three of you were ready, it was time to go to the dance. Lydia’s mother wished you all a good night and you piled into your car and headed off to the dance. When you got there, you saw Greenberg waiting at the doors, his face pale.
“Hey,” you greeted him, hooking your arm with his. You could feel someone staring at you but you weren’t gonna turn around and look because you knew it was probably just Lydia boasting about making you look pretty.
He smiled. “Hey. I got you this, I didn’t know if I was supposed to so…” he handed you a single red rose and his cheeks lit themselves on fire.
“Awe, thanks, Greenberg,” you said, holding the short stem between your fingers. It was thornless so you tucked it behind your ear and followed him into the school, listening intently as he ranted about Finstock pulling him off the field earlier.
As you entered the dance, you started having second thoughts about going with Greenberg. Across the room, you could see Scott and Stiles lounging at the punch table. Stiles looked distraught and disheartened, a bored and almost sad look on his face. Scott, on the hand, looked ecstatic and was scanning the crowds of people; probably looking for Allison.
You danced with Greenberg for a while until you got tired, then came up with an excuse to go see Stiles. You leaned onto the table next to him and tilted your head. “What’s wrong, Stiles?”
He shrugged. “Nothin’…”
“Hey, you can tell me,” you said, pulling him close by his tie. You could see Greenberg in the corner of your eye and you wondered if you were stepping over a line for both of them.
“I just…Why’d you come with Greenberg, y/n?”
“He asked me and he seemed nice so…And no one else was gonna ask me…” you sighed.
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.