You’d been in Stiles and Scott’s homeroom since the beginning of the year. You’d came to the school then. Stiles never really paid mind to you. He never had any need to talk to you and you didn’t seem to have a need to talk to him either.

Except today’s history class. Mr. Westover had assigned a group history presentation worth one quarter of the final grade and had put you in group with Stiles and Scott.

The boys could have been happier about the group. History class was the only class they could discuss the supernatural and human sacrifices happening around Beacon Hills without the teacher caring, as long as they did the work on time. Now, however, they couldn’t. Because you were sitting next to them, working on the presentation with them.