chapter six

[ season 2 | episode 3 ]
[ ice pick ]

               TRYING NOT TO GROAN TOO MUCH, Marley gripped onto another one of the blue 'rocks'. Her foot stumbled, having trouble finding a good grip. Despite being fairly athletic, she really disliked climbing rock walls. Especially in P.E. when everyone below her was watching. Some say it's stage fright, she says it's an irrational fear of embarrassment. Which was true.

          The boy next to her, Charlie Liang, looked down at her with a smirk before cascading down, his feet landing perfectly on the mat. Stupid, arrogant jerk. She knew him from the lacrosse team, where he'd both asked her out and managed to be a sexist ass.

          Pushing off, she let herself fall slowly down, fighting off a major eye roll. Allison sat just beyond the blue mat, her chocolate eyes narrowing into what seemed like a pitiful look.

          "Okay, next two. McCall and... Argent. Get up there." Coach called for both of them, his hands coming together in a clap.

          The couple eagerly grabbed onto the harnesses, getting settled in before climbing the wall. Both of them, especially Allison, were quick— coming up to where Marley jumped in nearly half the time. She didn't know whether to be impressed or embarrassed that the human could climb a simple rock wall faster than her.

          After a few moments, she barked out a laugh when the Argent kicked a foot out and Scott fell most of the way down, back first. It was only when he was feet from the floor that a cord of fear struck through her like lightning. What if the harness didn't stop him? But it did, leaving her to let a breath out. He did end up hitting the ground a second later, though, emitting a loud groan. That also got a bark of mirth from the usually solemn girl.

          Coach knelt beside him, a bright smile and hearty chuckle brightening him up. "McCall, I don't know why but your pain gives me a special kinda joy," he said, his chuckle continuing. He then called for Stiles and Erica to climb, the latter eager to do so. The former, though, was certainly not. Marley heard her heart pounding in her chest, her breaths coming in short wheezes. Oh no.

          Soon after Stiles hit the mat and pumped his fists up, the blonde began audibly gasping, her body frozen on the wall. "Erica!" coach called, rushing over to get a better view. Marley followed just behind him. "Dizzy? Is it vertigo?"

          Lydia, looking well and clothed, gave him a look. "Vertigo is a dysfunction of the vestibular system of the inner ear. She's just freaking out." Her hand pointed towards Reyes, eyes moving into a smooth roll. She might've pretended to be a complete airhead but Marley knew there was an incredible brain underneath all the red hair.

           Coach called out again, ignoring the small eruption of laughter from the back. "F— I'm fine." It came out as more of a sob than a normal comment. Almost as if she were trying to convince not only them, but herself. Erica Reyes was not fine and the she-wolf beneath her could tell from the racing heartbeat and smell of complete terror.

          "Coach, maybe it's not safe. You know she's epileptic." Allison swiveled her head to their shocked coach, brown hair resting gracefully on her shoulders and arms folded over her chest. She was pretty.

          "W— why does nobody tell me this stuff? Epileptic, I— Erica, you, you're fine just," he started, making a motion away from the wall and scrambling for a fix for the situation. Marley felt Erica's all-consuming panic, readying herself in case she needed to catch the blonde. "kick off from the wall. There's a mat to catch you. Come on," he willed. Slowly, she let her hand relax and held onto the harness as it brought her down. "See, you're fine, you're on the ground, alright. Let's go, shake it off. You're fine."

          Watching her walk through the crowd with a trembling lip, Marley nearly elbowed the girl behind her for saying some dumb, snarky comment but talked herself out of it. She'd better not earn another trip to the principle's office this week. "Alright, locker rooms, c'mon!"

          The crowd moved toward the gendered rooms like a herd of sheep, everyone gossiping and falling in step with Bobby. Finding a secluded spot in the girls room, she hurriedly changed from the sweaty tee and shorts to her casual blue tank top and black jeans. Voila. Pulling her frizzy coils from beneath the top, she decided to sit on a bench and wait until someone else finished. She didn't really like going out there alone.

A knock came from the door as soon as everyone was dressed, Finstock's voice trampling all the gossip. "Is everyone decent in there? Legally, I cannot come in so please join me in the hallway."

As the girls all piled out, she found herself standing at the front, right next to Lydia Martin whose curly red locks were tight in her hand. The redhead examined the tips of her hair, looking for stray split ends. Of course she had none, Lydia Martin was nothing short of perfection.

"Alright, now that you're all here, if any of you see Isaac Lahey, you need to notify someone. If you know where he is, notify someone. You can call the police, the principal, me even. Just call anyone." The short speech finished, leaving most of the girls annoyed. Except for Marley. No, she stood with a lump in her throat and chin quivering. Having to keep Isaac's location a secret really went against her severe moral compass.

Oh God, she needed a breather. "Hey, Coach." Bobby turned, smiling at his female lacrosse player, "I think I left my phone in the gym, can I go get it?" He nodded, sending her jogging towards the large gymnasium with nothing but a plastic water bottle.

The lights were off, giving it an eerie vibe, and the rock wall was illuminated perfectly. Because the locker rooms were around the back, she couldn't see the girl climbing the wall with determination fueling her movements. No, instead she heard the cough-like gasp and rapid heartbeat, smelled the utter fear and panic, tasted the metallic that was filling Erica's mouth. She knew the signs of a seizure, something she became familiar with after being in a foster home with a severe epileptic.

The blonde began gasping and her movements were shaky, weakness filing into her veins like snakes made of lead. Marlowe pushed herself forward, heard two hands slip from the plastic, and ran to stop Erica from probably dying. She wouldn't make it in time. She knew how big the fall was and she wasn't fast enough. It's all her fault. She should've made it, should've been there sooner, should've ran faster, should've done anything.

Rounding the corner of the wall, she let a relieved gasp go at the sight of Scott McCall holding a trembling Erica Reyes. "Oh— oh my God." Pressing a hand to her quick heart, she let herself fall into a sit.

          Allison ran over, stopping right next to the boy she loved and the girl he saved. "Put her on her side. Put her on her side! How'd you two know?" Erica latched onto his hand, body still suffering from the intense spasms and rapid gasps.

          "I just felt it. You?" He looked up at her, eyes still wide.

           Taking a large gulp from her water, she leaned her head against the gray, trying to calm down after that panic. "I didn't. I came in here to take a second."

           "Alright! I want everyone out. Now! Come on, give the girl some privacy." The school nurse, a larger lady with charcoal skin and buzzed hair, shooed them all away, sending the kids off to their next class. Marley, still shaken from everything, was the first to get out. As soon as the cool air of the hallway hit her, she felt like she could breathe again. Like her lungs finally opened back up and welcomed the oxygen with a warm hug.

Lunch came around after their next class. Marley, a loner and very anti-social human being, sat a few seats down from Vernon Boyd, a boy whose personality matched hers fairly well. They never really spoke, just ate and sat in each other'a silent company. Despite the lack of noise, she found it lacking the usual awkwardness that came with silence. Today was no different.

She bit into an apple and stuck to her own business, paying Boyd no mind. Somehow, their quiet lunch made them seem somewhat like friends. Both of them knew the other was there and both of them felt just a little bit less lonely. A win-win situation.

And then her peace was interrupted by a spastic white boy sitting in the seat across from her friend. "Stiles?"

He gave her a head-nod, not showing any sign of surprise that she was sitting across from him. "Marlowe. Boyd." His eyes scanned the cafeteria. The boy seemed incredibly suspicious with his paranoid eyes, sketchy behavior, and spaced out words. What the hell was he doing? "You got the keys?" Huh?

"W—" Boyd held a chain of keys between his run and middle fingers, face expressionless and hand unshaken. The keys jingled and hung from his hand before Stiles' own hand wrapped around and tried to pull. But Boyd didn't let go. Instead, the two held on, Stiles trying to get them from his grip and Boyd still holding on.

"This isn't a favor. It's a transaction."

Stiles let go and Marley could smell his disappointment. "Right, yea. Absolutely." He pulled a wrinkled twenty from his pocket and placed it roughly on the wood before meeting Vernon's eyes again.

And he wasn't impressed. "I said fifty."

          "Really? I remember twenty," the spaz said. Marley let the urge to roll her eyes overcome her and stopped a light scoff before it left her lips. "I don't know. I have really good verbal memory. And I remember twenty. I remember that distinctive twa sound. Twa-enty."

          "I said fifty. With a fuh sound. Hear the difference?" Stiles made a weird squeaky noise, his lips turned downwards into a frown. "If you can't, I can demonstrate some other words with a fuh sound." Boyd propped his elbows up on the table, his upper body leaning forward, giving him a threatening aura. Yea, no, he could take Stiles any day. Hell, he could probably even take Marlowe and she was a werewolf.

          "Oh, no, no, no, I think I'm recalling it, now. Uh, maybe I just got it confusef with Foor-ty." Stiles stretched the for, placing another twenty dollar bill down. He watched silently as Boyd shoved a Dorito into his mouth and chewed slowly. Stiles heaved a sigh. "C'mon man have you seen the piece-of-crap jeep that I drive?"

          Boyd raised his eyebrows, a scoff filling the silence. "Have you seen the piece-of-crap but that I take?"

          Rolling his eyes and searching around for a moment, Stiles' honey eyes landed on her, their pupils thinning. "Hey, Marlowe, you have a nice car. Why don't you pitch in a bit? Come on, help a friend out over here."

          "Me? Oh, nuh-uh. Nope. No-ho-ho. You, Stiles Stilinski, are not dragging me down into your little nerdy, weird friend group thing. Nada. We are not buddies or pals or bffs. Sorry not sorry, broski," she huffed. All she received in return was a flat look from the annoying boy and a chuckle from the quiet one.

          With his mouth slightly agape and resentment lingering in the whites of his eyes, he mumbled, "That was Scott, actually." He placed another wrinkled bill on the table, this one having a clear ten printed on the front. Boyd smiled, a cute and innocent air around him, and handed the keys over without second thought. "Mmm, okay. Thank you. Not you, Marlowe. You suck."

          She chuckled, watching him bound off towards Scott. Their little I-hate-you dynamic always left a small smile on her face. Despite being short and usually insulting, their arguments gave her this weird, bubbly feeling in her stomach. Something like happiness. Weird.

          Moving on from the possibility of a forming friendship, no, she made sure to listen in on whatever the two dorks were talking about. If they were planning something stupid, Derek needed to know.

          The first thing she heard was the squeak of a chair, the sound making her wince. "Got 'em," Stiles said, waving the keychain around in Scott's face. "I'll pick you up after work tonight and we'll meet at the rink, cool?"

          But before there was a chance for any reply, two cheetah-print pumps began clacking on the tile. Everyone's eyes turned to the new, hot figure rounding the corner. Once Marlowe's eyes reached— Holy shit, is that Erica goddamn Reyes?!

          Wait a second, quick recap. First, Erica is jotting down biology answers like no tomorrow, then she's seizing on the gym floor, and now she's strutting into the cafeteria with a tight mini-skirt, low tank top, leather jacket, and cheetah pumps? Hot damn. Literally. Hot.

"You're drooling." Boyd leaned in close, whispering quietly into her ear. Instead of letting a deep blush take over her face, she swatted him away and summoned the meanest glare she could.

          "Oh, shush. I am not." When her eyes lifted back up at the bombshell blonde, she found her eyes staring straight into a pair of deep, chocolate brown. Erica smirked, almost like she'd heard Boyd. But how could she have— oh shit.

Once again, another epiphany interrupted her inner monologue, sending a child down her spine. Did Derek seriously give her the bite? To be honest, Marley kind of wanted him to. Erica held so much potential within her bones that it nearly hurt her to see the girl waste it all. It was exciting to see what she'd conquer with the bite.

          Erica walked towards a random table, grabbing a kids apple and taking a bite out of it. She really did look hot. Marley was too focused on staring at her new pack mate that she didn't notice Lydia Martin standing next to McCall with an unimpressed look. Before she rounded the corner to exit the lunch room again, Reyes shot St. Claire a wink.

          "Holy shit, she looks good." Swinging her head to Boyd, Marley tried not to let her mouth hang open for too long.

          He just sat and watched her with humored eyes and a faint smile. "Yea, you were definitely into it, too."

          "What? Nuh-uh." What a little liar.

Letting a deep chuckle travel up his throat, Boyd went back to eating his Doritos and quickly pocketed the fifty bucks. "You were catchin' flies, St. Claire." The dark boy pushed his chair into the table, sending her a mock wink and heading away from the cafeteria.

"Ass," she whispered. Suddenly, as soon as the entire world ceased to spin, four hands slammed on the table, making her send the water from her bottle cascading down her front. "What the hell?! Stiles, Scott you cannot do that. You both are so lucky I didn't punch you."

          While Scott mumbled a small apology, Stiles stared her down and kept his hands right next to her. It took a short staring contest, she won, by the way, for him to open his mouth and speak. "Okay, did you know about Erica?"

          "What makes you think that?" She swiped all her curls from her shoulder, staring at her fidgeting hands. Of course they'd accuse her of knowing something. The two dimwits probably thought she was responsible for killing all the dinosaurs and global warming.

Stiles pulled a chair out, sitting in it with a harsh, quick movement. Scott followed, the two of them on either side of her. Great. "You knew about Isaac."

          Rolling her eyes, she grabbed a napkin and dabbed it on the darkened spot of water. It soaked through her top, the dampness hitting her chest and making her incredibly uncomfortable. "Whatever." She tossed the crumpled napkin onto her lunch tray, leaning back in her chair and ignoring the water. "I didn't know about Erica, okay? So you can stop tryna kill me with that glare, Stilinski."

          He stood up, putting his hands back flat on the table. With a glare, he snarled, "You really think I believe you, Sinclair?"

          "It's St. Claire, dumbass." She stood up, too. Sure, she liked their banter but she hated their actual arguments. She'd done close to nothing to make him hold so much utter distrust for her, and even helped when Scott left to find Lydia.

          Standing tall, Stiles crossed his arms and cocked a leg out. "Oh, like I care. Sinclair."

Frustration built up in her veins, starting at her toes and reaching the roots of her hair. It made her entire body tingle and vibrate, like a chihuahua with too much energy. She really, really wanted to punch him in the face. "Shut it, Bilinski."

Finally, when Stiles took a step forward with his finger outstretched, Scott shouldered his way between them. "Oh my God, you two both need to shut up! Stiles, she wasn't lying. She didn't know about Erica."

Biting back a told-you-so, Marley sat back down in her chair. "How can you be so sure, Scott?"

"Stiles, why is it so hard for you to just trust me?" With a hint of annoyance curving around her sharp words, she tried to cool some of the overwhelming anger. Despite being fairly passive, her temper wasn't so. No, she was the type who could blow after the simplest thing while staying completely nonchalant during a major event.

          "Because you're with Derek and you're just not trustworthy." Before she could say anything else, a shrill scream came from the speakers. Lunch was over and Marley was forced to leave it at her being untrustworthy.

Ok, there were two options for her to take. She could've sat there and argued, risking her perfect attendance streak, or lose this battle and get to class on time. Uttering a farewell, she chose to surrender her pride for this single event — internally cringing as she did so. She never really liked stretching arguments anymore anyway.

               The station was really cold. That's the first thing Marley thought as she stood just beyond the old subway. Snuggling further into her thin jacket, she held her abdomen with crossed arms. She never really liked the cold. Was always more of a summer person.

          "Marley. You and Isaac. No claws." Derek pointed at the tall boy, his left shoulder leaning on a pillar not too far from her. He'd been training both him and Erica for the better part of the day, saying they needed to prepare for what was coming.

          Looking up from the spot of concrete that she'd concentrated her eyes on, she held a groan. "Huh?"

"Yeah, I think that'd be a little too easy," Isaac said, his lips turned up in a smirk and arms resting on his hips. Since getting the bite, he became a completely different person. Confidence oozed from every one of his pores, turning the sweet and shy boy who sat behind her into this cocky, arrogant dick. Yeah, she was happy he was safe and confident, but she liked when he was kind.

Squinting, Marley walked to the center of Derek's makeshift ring and shedded her jacket. If he wants a fight, he'll get a fight. "Dunno about that one, Isaac. C'mon, let's go."

          She watched as his smirk grew and he strutted into the small ring. Getting into a training stance, he scoffed. "Hey, I'll go easy on you."

          Instead of responding, she threw her arm up to protect her face from his fist. Kicking a leg out, she met his side with a considerable amount of force. Isaac grunted and grabbed her stray arm, pulling her into him and twisting. She reared her hips back and he immediately let go, stunned from the pain. He was pulled out of it by one of her fists meeting his cheek.

Cursing, he stumbled backwards a bit before looking into her eyes with a determined glare. His arms shook and he rolled his neck. "Alright, fine. You don't exactly need me to go easy, I get it." Instead of letting her make the first move, he grabbed her waist and twirled her back into him, his arm coming up to hook around her neck.

She had two choices. Swallow her pride and let him win or try even harder to kick his ass. Her elbow met his gut, and, when he moved to clutch it, she hooked her leg behind his. He landed on the floor with a grunt and snarl pasted across his face. Getting down beside him, she flicked her claws out and put them lightly on his throat.

"I win." If she'd been fighting Derek, he would've had her on the floor within seconds and everyone in the station knew that, but Isaac was new. New, naive, incredibly cocky, and impulsive. He thought that he was Superman and could do anything with the bite. He needed to know that wasn't true. Plus she just really wanted to kick his ass after a certain arrogant comment he'd made not too long ago.

          He shoved her off him, his ego bruised and gut still aching. Erica laughed from where she sat on a weird barrel looking thing, one of her perfectly manicured fingers twirling around a strand of blonde hair. It took a second for Marlowe to break from the trance she found herself in. "You handed his ass to him, Mar."

          She decided she'd never audibly admit to the butterflies that erupted in her stomach from the mere though of impressing this new-and-improved Erica Reyes.

          Isaac scoffed, lightly puffing his chest out and dusting some dirt from his back. "She did not hand my ass to me. I let her win." Stupid boys and their stupid egos. Even Derek looked amused by the statement, the ghost of a smile lining his lips.

          She basked in the pure serenity, enjoying the foreign feeling and reveling in it. They all knew it'd be over soon. That the Argents and the weird lizard would somehow becoming an overwhelming part of their lives and that happiness would be a faraway dream. Marley thought she heard her heart break a bit from the idea of letting this serotonin slip from her weak grasp.

          Because she weirdly knew that everything would come crashing down soon enough. That she'd be drowning underwater with nobody there to pull her back up.

word count: 3821

author's note

aaaaah ericaaaaa!!!!
also boyd and marley brotp pls

anywhore, at the time of writing this,
i just got my conch pierced (an
ear piercing with a whole lotta cartilage
ouchie) and i have finals this week :D

so excited woohoo
yay
plummeting mental health 😩

sorry for the whole not updating thing
i kinda sorta fell back into reading fantasy type
shit (six of crows OHMYGOD) and lost motivation for
this woohoo