Chapter Text
“What did I do to deserve a disgraceful team like this?” Coach Finstock shouted, throwing down his clipboard in disgust. Scott rolled his eyes, continuing with his wind sprints. He was systematically sending each player to run, whenever he saw anything not up to par. Scott wasn’t even sure what he’d done wrong, but at least he was away from Finstock’s wrath for the moment. The coach was usually a good guy, but today he was in rare form.
Not too long ago, all this running would be killing him. But thanks to his newfound abilities, his asthma was gone and he felt great. He smirked at Jackson’s snarl as he passed him, the historically fitter teen panting from exertion while Scott was breathing easy. Scott may not be completely happy with his new life, but it did have its perks.
“Number 14! If you drop another ball, you’ll be picking up the whole field after practice. You got that?” Finstock yelled, startling the boy into dropping the ball again. Scott heard him whimper a little from where he stood across the field, but he brushed it off. Post practice clean up wasn’t the most fun, but it wasn’t the end of the world either.
“Share some of your mojo with me, dude!” Stiles gasped from where he was sprawled out on the ground. Stiles had been one of the first sent to run, for reasons that didn’t need to be explained. Scott just shook his head with a laugh, taking off again at an increased speed. He was being a showoff, but not too obvious. Scott didn’t need any extra attention called on him.
“I should keep you losers out here doing drills all night, but I’m kind of sick of seeing your faces. I can feel my own greatness being leached from my body, just from being around you,” Finstock laughed, blowing his whistle right next to Danny’s ear. “Everyone hit the showers and get out of my sight. Except you, 14. If I find a single piece of equipment out here in the morning, you’ll wish I liked you as much as Greenburg.”
Everyone else sprinted off the field, just as eager as the coach to be done with this practice. Scott pulled Stiles up off the ground, chuckling as his friend exaggeratedly limped his way to the locker rooms. Scott was about to follow him when the other teen left on the field started scrambling around, picking up as much equipment at a time as he could. For the life of him, Scott couldn’t come up with a name for the boy. He didn’t think they’d ever actually spoken, even though he was sure they’d gone to school together for years.
Scott was again about to continue on his way, but a quiet muttering caught his attention. He never would’ve been able to hear it otherwise, but his wolf hearing made it as clear as day now. The other teen was cursing under his breath, mumbling about how his dad was going to kill him. Was this really that big of a deal? Evidently it was to this kid, so Scott decided to take pity on him and help him clean up. Scott didn’t have to go to work tonight and his mom was at the hospital, so it wouldn’t matter if he took his time getting home. He started picking up balls as he made his way over.
“Need some help?” Scott asked, causing the other boy to flinch so hard that he dropped everything he was holding. He spun around, shooting Scott a frightened glance before relaxing a bit when he saw it was only him. He groaned, stooping down to pick up everything he’d dropped, his panicked movements making the job harder than it needed to be.
“Thanks,” the boy mumbled when Scott bent down to help him gather the fallen objects.
“No problem,” Scott brushed off, tucking a stick under his arm. “I’m Scott, by the way.”
“I know,” the boy answered quietly, not offering up his own name in return. Scott felt bad introducing himself to someone he’d vaguely known for years and he was too embarrassed to outright ask his name now. They kept on in silence, the other teen sprinting over to the equipment buckets as soon as his hands were full. He kept checking his watch, cursing as the minutes ticked by.
“Are you okay?” Scott finally asked, after he couldn’t take not knowing anymore. His classmate looked up at him in surprise, biting his lip as if he wasn’t sure he should answer.
“I’m gonna be late for work,” he sighed, wringing his hands in the hem of his uniform top.
“Dude, why didn’t you say so? I can finish up for you,” Scott offered. He looked like he wanted to protest, but there was the smallest spark of hope in his eyes at the suggestion. Scott decided to help him out, grabbing the stick the other boy had under his arm.
“Are you sure?” he asked, biting his lip. At Scott’s nod, he relaxed his shoulders a bit, Scott only realizing now how tense the other boy had been this whole time. “Thanks. I owe you.” Scott waved him off, watching as the boy ran across the field, skipping the locker room entirely and darting around the side of the school. That was a little strange, but Scott shrugged it off. He probably had clothes at his job he could change into.
Scott finished picking up the field, taking extra care to make sure he didn’t leave a single thing behind. He couldn’t offer to help and then do a bad job while the other boy’s ass was on the line. When he saw everything was in perfect order, he made his way back to the locker room, ready to wash off the day’s funk and get home. Thoughts of the other boy fled from his mind as he went through his routine, replaced by musings of Allison and their relationship.