23: The Game Night [3]

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"Come on, kid!!" My dad yelled as I dashed onto the field like a bullet out of a gun.

"Stiles!!"

"Go, Stiles!"

Both Amber and Melissa cheered louder as I entered. Meanwhile, my keen ears caught a faint murmur from Tara, almost like a silent prayer.

"Take 'em down, Stiley." Yeah, that sounded just like her. And to my surprise, Allison let out a whistle in my favor.

I turned and gave her a wave. She blinked like a deer caught in headlights, briefly wondering if I was waving at her before settling on an answer and giving me a shy wave back, her cheeks flushing.

Lydia shot Allison a scrutinizing look, a smirk playing on her lips. "Well, looks like someone's got a crush."

Allison snapped out of her reverie, blushing even harder as she denied Lydia's claim. "What?! No! I don't have a c-crush."

"Of course, sweetie. Whatever you say." Lydia chuckled mischievously before shifting her focus back to the game. Meanwhile, Allison nervously chewed her lip, stealing glances in my direction as I made way to my spot, oblivious to the exchange.

I positioned myself next to Scott, shooting him a glance.

Steam billowed from his body, his breath puffing hot even in the chilly night air. He was hunched over like a rainbow, his eyes locked on the ground like an ostrich.

"You okay, kid?" The bald referee asked, concern evident in his voice as he approached the field.

Scott didn't offer a verbal response, just nodded in affirmation. His body language screamed otherwise.

The referee shot him a glance before making his way to the center, where Jackson stood opposite the other team's striker.

He placed the ball down and stepped back. All eyes fixated on the ball like a hunter stalking its prey, our hands gripping the sticks tighter than a finger on a trigger.

"Set!" We held our breath. "Go!" We released, and the whistle shattered the silence as the game commenced.

The opposing team's striker outmaneuvered Jackson, snatching the ball and passing it to the right-end defender. Jackson's bum shoulder took the blame for that one.

We chased the ball from one end of the field to the other, with Jackson and the other strikers battling the defender. Meanwhile, as an attacking mid, I awaited my chance, covering the other strikers.

"Up!" Isaac shouted from the other side as the ball soared through the air, landing just short of Scott. A striker closed in on it, ready to take the shot, but a figure leaped out of nowhere, as quiet as a shadow, surprising him. Scott swiped the ball, charging forward.

He darted ahead, clutching the net for dear life, dodging a stray defender to the right. But they kept coming at him like moths to a flame.

His speed made it tough for them to keep up, but four defenders had already anticipated his moves, forming a blockade. Scott noticed.

They effectively halted his run but made the mistake of leaving half the field wide open.

"Scott!" I yelled louder than the crowd, urging him on.

He skidded to a stop, his eyes locking onto mine as I tore past the other side's defenses. Jackson was far ahead and in a better position, but I knew Scott wouldn't pass to him or even consider it.

"Go!" He roared in fury, launching the ball into the air with all his might, sending it deep into enemy territory. I kept my eyes on the white orb as I sprinted to meet it, catching it with ease.

The ground fell silent as I drew back my stick, aiming my shot straight for the goal. All I had to do was get it right, and that's exactly what I did before the crowd erupted in cheers once more.

"WOOOOOOHHH!!!"

"Yeah!! Yeahh!!" I bellowed, pounding my chest with pride.

Scott tapped my helmet in joy as he reached me, while the other guys cheered with passion.

"Pass to McCall!" Coach yelled from the sidelines, and the team knew what to do.

The next few minutes flew by as both teams battled it out.

Every time the ball found its way to Scott, I scored. And about a minute before the end of the game, we found ourselves tied with the other team. Our defenders were having a rough night.

I glanced at the scoreboard.

Forty-nine seconds left, with a score of 4-4 on each side.

Jackson and I had each scored two goals.

Both teams knew this was the final play of the night, do or die. The next goal wins.

The ball sat in the center, with Jackson poised to snatch it while the opposing striker, wearing number 42, had the same idea.

While everyone's eyes were glued to the ball, mine strayed elsewhere. Scott's eyes had turned golden with adrenaline, his teeth had transformed into canines, and the only thing missing was his fur.

"Shit." I muttered as Scott surged forward at the whistle.

I ran alongside him as I saw the ball thrown out for a throw-in, and Scott darted like a dog after a frisbee to catch it. The moment he caught it, he sprinted toward the goal once more at full speed, and I followed behind as backup.

Scott skidded to a stop before the goal, no defenders in sight as they had focused on me and Jackson.

Everyone held their breath as Scott reared back to shoot, and the ball soared from his stick like a bullet, hitting the goal.

"YEEEEEEEEEHHH!!"

The crowd erupted in passionate cheers as they streamed onto the field. The Pumas had clinched their first win, but for two of us, it wasn't all celebrations.

I gave Scott a concerned look as I saw him drop his glove, his claws protruding from his fingers.

He glanced around before bolting toward the school, right under everyone's noses.

I didn't say a word, quietly trailing behind him to avoid drawing any unwanted attention.

Once inside the school, I lost sight of him, but I didn't need to search for him. The sound of glass breaking from the locker room told me where he was.

"Scott?" I called out as I stepped into the dark locker room, memories of the first time Scott had tried to kill me flooding my mind.

"Scott, you in here?" I asked again, but there was no response, though I could hear shallow breathing coming from the corner.

I moved cautiously toward the showers, where a figure stood under the steaming water, his long hair damp and water trickling down his uneven jaw.

He looked up, his fur and canine teeth on display, but the most striking feature was his golden eyes gleaming in the darkness.

"Not again." I groaned internally.

Scott lunged at me on all fours like a wild animal, but this time I was prepared.

I sidestepped at the last moment, causing him to slip past me and crash into the benches, eliciting a pained growl.

I delivered a swift kick to his shoulder, pinning him against the lockers. He howled in pain, followed by a roar of rage.

He leaped toward my throat, aiming to sink his teeth into me, but I reached out and grabbed his neck, slamming him against the lockers and lifting him off the ground, choking him in the process.

An unknown strength surged through me as I held him suspended.

"Scott, snap out of it." I demanded.

Smoke began to waft from my hands as adrenaline surged through me like never before as I watched Scott struggling to breathe.

"Or I'll make you."