Around Scott was a small, furry puppy. Or was it a wolf? He wasn't too sure. When did Scott become a shapeshifter?
The small, dog-like creature looked like it had just been born, its eyes still sealed shut. So it had to be very recent.
Eli frowned as he remembered something from the hospital. That person in the vision, was it Scott? Then he saw that thing again.
Before Eli could continue thinking, three, no, four people spoke at the same time. Wait, was it more?
Eli looked up from where he stood, focused, and saw Lydia.
"Did you not hear me?" she said.
That strange thing happened again. It was as if multiple people were repeating what she was saying. Looking at her, he saw the faint image of several crystal-clear bodies layered over Lydia. Her face shifted from faint curiosity to a frown.
"And what kind of contacts are those? How did they get them to glow like that?"
Hearing that, Eli's eyes immediately stopped glowing.
"They're from Japan. My mother got them for me," Eli replied, his voice slightly panicked. He hoped his lie was just as convincing as the ones Stilinski usually made.
"Cool. I'm having a party on Friday. You're invited."
She said that, then ignored him completely and turned back to the agitant, who hadn't seem to notice him, She was to busy giving Scott shy, evasive glances while Scott's eyes were almost glowing looking back at her.
"Hey, Allison," Lydia said, her voice no longer layered. "Let's go."
They walked off, both Scott and Stiles staring after them.
Eli looked at them, confused. Was there something on Lydia and Allison's faces?
Following their gaze, he watched the girls walk away.
Then he was hit in the back.
It was Stiles.
And why was he smiling at him like that?
"You're going, right?" Stiles said.
Eli looked at him.
"To the party," Stiles added. "Lydia Martin just personally invited you. Do you understand how rare that is? That's basically a royal summons."
Scott had stopped staring down the hallway. He turned back to them, still slightly dazed, like something had just pulled him back into his own body.
"He's right," Scott said. "You should come."
Eli looked between them.
They both meant it. That was the strange part. The two nerds wanted to go to a party. They were looking at him the way people look at someone they've known for years, expecting him to walk into their house with his shoes on, as if he had always been a part of it.
But he hadn't been.
He was not allowed that chance.
It bothered him in a way he couldn't explain.
"I'll think about it," he said, which meant no.
Stiles pointed at him. "That means no."
Eli said nothing.
"Eli."
Still nothing.
Stiles made a sound somewhere between a groan and a laugh. "Okay, fine. But at least let us drive you home." He gestured toward the parking lot. "I've got the Jeep. It's not far."
The Jeep.
Eli had heard Stiles mention it twice already, in that way people mention things they are quietly proud of. The Jeep, like it had always been there. Like Eli was supposed to know what that meant.
He didn't.
He had missed the whole thing. Whatever version of Stiles bought that Jeep, whatever version of Stiles learned to drive it, had existed entirely without him.
Maybe Scott was not the only one who had changed.
"My mother said she'd pick me up," Eli said. "She told me not to leave with anyone else."
She had, but Scott and Stiles were exceptions. They all knew that.
Scott's brow creased slightly. "Did she? Is everything okay? Are you okay? I mean, you just got out of the hospital. Shouldn't you still be there or something?"
"No, I'm fine. My mother is a doctor, remember? If she says everything is fine, then everything is fine," Eli said.
Stiles was still smiling, but it had shifted. It was smaller now, like something underneath it had gone uncertain.
"Okay," he said, answering for Scott.
They shared a glance. One of those brief, sideways looks, the kind that meant something had been communicated without words. Eli had seen them do that in the cafeteria too.
He used to know what those looks meant.
"Tell her we said hi," Scott said finally, turning it into something normal.
"I will," Eli said.
He wouldn't. Not because he was being cruel. He didn't know them anymore, not really, not the versions they had become. And explaining to his mother that he had seen them, and why he didn't want to go home with them, was not something he wanted to do.
They stood there for another moment, the three of them, in the strange silence of people who used to fit together easily.
"Seriously though," Stiles said, making one last attempt. "The party. Friday. Lydia's parties are—"
"Stiles. I said I would think about it."
A few people nearby turned to look.
Stiles raised both hands. "Okay. Okay."
Scott smiled at him, the easy, genuine kind someone gives to reassure a child.
"Good to have you back," Scott said.
He rested a hand on Stiles and gave him a look. Eli understood that one.
Let's give him some space.
"Okay, I guess we'll see you tomorrow," Stiles said. "At least come to lacrosse."
Eli nodded once, watching as they left.
He watched them go. There was something about them, a kind of kicked puppy feeling, like they were trying to act normal but couldn't quite manage it. It wasn't the same.
Would it ever be the same?
They disappeared around the corner.
Eli stood there.
The hallway moved around him, students, lockers, the noise of the end of a school day, and he stood in it like a stone in a stream.
Good to have you back.
Four years.
He had missed four years. Stiles's mother. Scott's asthma, or whatever had replaced it. The Jeep. Lacrosse. The way they looked at each other now, like they had been through something together. Something big. Something that had nothing to do with him.
And they were inviting him to a party.
Eli picked up his bag.
His mother had texted, "I'll be a bit late. Check out some clubs at the school."
Why would he want to see any stupid clubs?
It only took about five minutes before he got bored of waiting for his mother.
Now he was standing in front of the announcement board, hands in his pockets, reading.
Soccer. Football. Tennis.
Eli grunted. Why were they all, every single one, built around running somewhere and hitting something?
He moved down the list.
Band. Debate. Chess. Now these were more his speed.
These could just be interesting.
His hand reached for one of the flyers and brushed against another.
The image arrived without warning. Sharp and clear. A girl's hands. His ring. She was pressing the flyer to the board herself, smoothing the corner down with her thumb, satisfied.
So that's where she is.
Eli straightened up, the flyer now in his hand.
Jewelry Club. Come learn to make your own jewelry.
The flyer had a photo of what looked like an alum crystal, cut and set into a wooden ring. Beside it, someone had drawn a small, lopsided gem, clearly not done by an artist.
He was definitely not going there to confront her.
He felt completely calm about the whole thing. Completely.
He was simply interested in the craft. Anyone could see that.
The edge of the paper crinkled under his fingers.
He loosened his grip deliberately.
Even if he did happen to see her there, there was still the matter of that strange guy following him.
He turned his head and looked down the corridor. A few students drifted past, backpacks over their shoulders, taking slight glances at him as they moved.
They weren't who he was looking for.
He focused on the corner.
He could feel the hunger from there.
He slipped the flyer into his pocket and turned, walking in the opposite direction.
Behind him, a skinny figure leaned out from the corner, watched him go, then pushed off the wall and followed.