Chapter One: Collision Course

Song Inspiration: "Where is my Mind" Pixies & "Catch the Wind" The High Highs


Stiles and I step through the court yard of what is going to be the next four years of our lives. Baggy and decked out in plaid as usual, he flails his arms around while rambling on about how Lydia still won't give him the time of day. The arm in question almost hit me in the face if it weren't for my werewolf reflexes.

I dodge him effortlessly. "Easy man, knowing your track record you'll accidentally knock out a senior or something and then not only will I have to keep the peace, but I'll also gain an enemy by association." I chuckle, watching as Stiles' eyes widen, his ID falling from his mouth. He merely shrugs his shoulders and continues walking.

He rolls his eyes and scoffs, "Please Scott, I could kick your little werewolf ass any day of the week, I wouldn't need the backup in a fight." He teases with a wink, bringing his attention back to the conversation at hand.

Choosing to ignore his comment, I remind him, "You know dude if you weren't so hung up on Lydia, you might notice that Erica has had a crush on you since.. well, forever. She's cute. Who knows, Lydia might even realize that she's into you." I suggest before backtracking, "Not that I'm saying you should use Erica to make Lydia jealous, because that's wrong and all…"

Stiles interrupts, "Scott, you're a genius-"

"Stiles" I sigh, rubbing my hand over the back of my neck. He can't actually think that this is a good idea. "We're starting over. There's plenty of new girls here that I'm sure will be totally into you. Maybe it's time to give up on the ten year plan?"

He explains, "Look all I'm saying is that it could work."

We walk in silence until we're standing in front of the dormitories. With one last glance at each other and a subtle fist bump, we open the doors and step into our new living quarters. We pass a string of freshman who look just as nervous yet excited as us with bins, suitcases, and duffle bags wrapped around their bodies.

Stiles and I had decided to go our separate ways for our freshman year by opting to not be roommates. We thought it would be a good way to expand our friend groups, knowing that if we stuck by eachother's sides the whole time we would never venture out and meet new people. It would be weird not being together all the time since we were always crashing at eachother's houses during high school, but we'd still see one another and the pack all the time. Besides we wouldn't be far, he will only be across the hall.

Stiles wipes a fake tear from falling, "I'm gonna miss you, brotha." He says, clapping a hand on my shoulder and pulls me into a side hug.

I chuckle at the gesture and hug him back. "Still got that walkie-talkie from sophomore year?"

He snorts, pulling at the zipper of his duffle bag and producing the black and yellow walkie-talkie to match mine that we'd jokingly bought at the dollar store one day.

He starts, "So are you Batman and I'm Robin? Because I don't want to be Robin all the time."

I sigh, knowing how insecure he gets sometimes about being the only human in the pack, "Neither of us are Batman or Robin."

Stiles pouts, "Not even some of the time?"

We're interrupted by a leggy blonde who makes her way in our direction and splits between the two of us. I guess I forgot to mention that we're staying in a co-ed dorm.

She peers at Stiles before her blue eyes drift over to me. Suddenly I'm hit with a wave of lust, not of my own doing, but hers. Her lips are painted a deep red and her too perfect teeth gleam in the bright lights of the corridor. With a flip of her golden hair she purrs, "Hi my name is Fiona, and you are-" She cuts off, looking up at me with expectant eyes.

I cough awkwardly with a polite, albeit uncomfortable smile, "I'm Scott and this is my friend Stiles." I say, gesturing to my plaid-covered friend, "We're new here."

Fiona flashes a grin, "I assumed as much, I never forget a face. And I definitely would remember yours. You leave quite the impression." She flirts shamelessly, running her manicured hand down my bicep. "There's a party tonight at the Zeta house. All the sororities are coming together and a few of the fraternities are coming out. My house is hosting. It's kind of like a welcome back to school thing, or in your case, more of a welcome home since this will be your new living space and all. You should come."

I clear my throat, "I'm not sure, I have a lot of unpacking to do…"

Stiles decides to pop in at that moment, "We'll be there!"

Fiona giggles, "Great, bring anyone you want." She says, extending the invitation before walking off. She stops and turns around when she's almost at the end of the hall, "Oh and Scott, save me a dance." She smirks, turning on her heel and rounding the corner.

Stiles' wears a goofy grin on his face, "She's so into you Scott, I mean did you see the way she was eyeing you? My boy's about to get some tonight." He taunts with a satisfied twitch of his lips.

I roll my eyes at his childishness, "You're a little shit, you know that, right?" I mumble through a tight-lipped smile, my dimples peeking out at the corners.

Stiles grabs me by the back of the neck, giving me a brotherly shake, "I just want you to be happy, man. After everything between Allison and you with the weird tension and walking circles around each other, I figured you need something to cheer you up. You won't be sad forever, Scotty."

I scratch the stubble of my jaw, already feeling my mood dampen at where this conversation is going. Allison and I have been best friends for as long as I can remember, even longer than Stiles and I. We went through the lover's quarrels, the star-crossed romance, forbidden love, and all that fairy tale bullshit. But in the end, the obstacles became too much for us. We began growing apart, breaking up on and off through out high school. I tried to make it work but it seemed that all she wanted to do was leave us in the past. Leave me in the past. What I've come to learn is that loving someone isn't always enough. Regardless, she's still my best friend.

I eye my key card and the number plates that line the row of doors down the halls. I walk a few paces to the left until I come across 120B.

I bump shoulders with Stiles and throw in a crooked smile, "This is my stop. I'll get a hold of Allison, Isaac, and Liam later and see if they want to go out. I figured you'd want to ask Lydia yourself, unless your hellbent on this Erica plan of yours." I chuckle, putting the key in the lock. "Either way, be careful dude, girls can get hostile."

He smirks and starts walking backwards to his room, "May the force be with you, buddy."

My eyes roll, "And may the odds be ever in your favor."

"Dude that's not Star Wars! Come on, that's The Hunger Games. I need to expand your cinematic experience because that is just pitiful. I'm insulted, you uncultured swine." Stiles bellows with a look of disgust before he erupts in laughter, placing his hand over his heart.

I let out a deep laugh, "Fine, how about once were all settled in we have a Star Wars marathon, my treat. I can order pizza and maybe I can even convince a junior or something to smuggle us a couple of beers. How does that sound?"

Stiles gasps, "Scott McCall, breaking the rules? I like it. I don't know what's gotten into you but I'm all here for it. Isaac was right, you are the hot girl."

I beam proudly, "I'm the hot girl?"

Stiles raises two thumbs up, "You are the hottest girl." He winks, finding his room and walking inside with one final wave.


I growl through the receiver of my phone that lays nestled between my ear and shoulder. Theo rattles away on the other line, harping on how I've become an introverted loner who needs to socialize.

I huff, "The kind of party that's going on tonight really just isn't my scene, Theo."

I can almost hear his eye roll through the phone. "Malia… at the risk of sounding like an asshole, I'm going to warn you now… I'm about to be an asshole. You're hot and fun and lets be honest, if you weren't my best friend I'd wrap those gorgeous legs around my waist and have my way with you. But since my taste for men has increased lately and you have tragic taste in that department, I'm here to help you get laid and Kira agrees with me.

I grumble out a response, "I'm so happy that my two best friends just sit around and discuss my nonexistent love life."

Kira's airy voice flits through the receiver, "Malia you know I love you and all, but you've been a moody bitch lately. Either your period is coming or you need some dick. Whichever comes first."

I slap my forehead in embarrassment, "Well damn guys, tell me how you really feel. It's not like I can just wander the halls and go up to some random guy and ask him where I can schedule the fastest dick appointment."

Their chuckles die down until Theo chimes in, "We're just looking out for you."

I smirk, "Are you just looking out for me or my pussy?"

Kira and Theo's laughter intermingle through the phone, causing me to crack a grin of my own. These two idiots are the best things that have ever happened to me. They're the type of friends that I can be serious with and talk about things that matter but also joke about having a threesome with. I know Theo would be down, but sometimes I think Kira could hang, too. She is a fox after all, and you know what else they call a female fox?

A vixen.

I catch a piece of my tawny, copper-gold hair and curl it around my ear while still balancing the phone between my shoulder. "Okay look guys, I have to finish unpacking. My roommate hasn't shown up yet but I'm trying to snag the bigger closet and get the bed closest to the bay window. So in order to do that I need to put all my shit into place so that they know that it's mine. I have a few more boxes to unload and then we can all meet up. Can we catch up at your apartment, Theo?"

The perks of being a year older is that Theo doesn't have to live on campus anymore. Can't say I blame him, who wants to deal with the additional fees for food and a dorm where the walls are so paper thin that the sounds of porn from the room over are like a blaring and obnoxious two-for-one deal.

I hear keys jiggle in the door and heavy footfalls cross the threshold.

I whisper into the phone, "Crap, my roommate just showed up. I swear if I get an early-riser or one who loves to sing Katy Perry in the shower, I'll sink my claws into the closest piece of flesh I can find."

Theo chuckles, "Ohhhh… kinky."

I snort unladylike, "Dumb ass."

I unceremoniously hang up the phone, deciding to be polite and go greet my new roommate. This could go one of two ways: I could either love them or I could kill them on sight.

I turn the corner and my mouth runs dry.

Standing before me is a broad shouldered guy with skin the color of toffee, his back muscles flexing deliciously in the deep gray crew neck he's wearing. He hasn't turned around yet, so I get the moment to survey him after I get over my initial shock of some random guy being in my room. With a head of tamed chocolate curls with slightly shaven sides, toned thighs visible through the style of his jeans, and a tribal arm tattoo of two blackened bands, I can feel the room get hotter and the air growing thinner. I pick up the unfamiliar scent and my eyes flare a crystalline blue.

I decide to skip over the pleasantries and get straight to the point, "So you're an Alpha."

He turns in a nanosecond, sharp penetrating eyes scorching my skin underneath his red gaze. Those eyes threaten me to submit, to fall, to please. He rushes me up against the nearest wall and wraps a rough, calloused hand around my throat. Applying a little pressure, he makes his point. Even with my life in imminent danger, my body betrays me when I feel a familiar gush between my legs. Blame it on my choking kink.

I know he can smell me, his nostrils flaring and a look of apprehensiveness coupled with barely concealed lust overtaking his features. He looks at me hard and then relaxes his grip on my throat, but his hand still stays in place, "What are you and what are you doing here?"

I meet him head on, slightly anxious and slightly turned on, but there was no way in hell I will let him know that. Beneath the scrutiny of his red eyes, he is in a state of fire and rapture, a careful dance of the two, but with a weariness not to touch. Something about the flame growing in my belly made me want to burn underneath his gaze.

I drawl out a reply, "Werecoyote. I'm also a certified smart ass, but that's not important right now. As for what I'm doing here, I'm simply cashing in on the exclusive wonders of a quality education and now I'm enjoying the lovely company of my not-so-trusting roommate. You don't make friends very easily, do you?"

He lets me go with a huff, taking a step away until his back hits the island in the kitchen.

He looks down at his hands and then back up at my neck, a simmering regret circling his eyes when he sees a faint bruise starting to form. "Sorry, I'm not usually one to jump to conclusions. You just caught me by surprise is all, and I was also expecting a guy. I thought maybe you were some random supernatural creature here to come after me and my pack."

I rub the kink out of my neck, "None taken. I'm usually told that I look like I'm up to no good." I say, pushing my wild hair back behind my ears. "I probably could have found a better way to call you out. I'm known for being a bit abrasive, you'll have to get used to that.

He chuckles at that. "At least let me get some ice for your throat." He offers.

I trip on my words, caught off guard by his sudden kindness, "No-no- really it's not necessary. It will go away within thirty minutes." I try to explain but he's too fast and determined, already having a bag of ice between his hands as he presses it against my sensitive flesh.

"My mom would kill me if she knew I attacked a girl, possible enemy or not." He supplies, the pad of his thumb grazing my neck that leaves me with more chills than the ice itself.

He looks up again; his eyes are two pools of brown, warm and inviting, a hint of a smile and a peace offering in them as they crinkle in the corners. He scratches his head and looks confused, staring at me blankly for a moment.

"I'm assuming you aren't Caleb Johnson," He grins, giving me a once over. "There must have been a mix up with one of our schedules, I didn't think boys we're allowed to room with girls.

I clear my throat and muster up a reply, "My name is Malia… Tate. I was expecting a girl named Christy to walk through that door, and you- you definitely don't look like a Christy, or an overzealous morning person." I pause, a wild and spontaneous idea coming to mind. "Maybe this could work out after all."

His eyes widen in amusement, flitting back and forth across my face, "Are you suggesting that we not say anything to the RA about the mix up?"

"I'm not suggesting anything… but I should let you know that I have an exceptional supply of horror movies, I pride myself in being an organized person, and I always keep the freezer stocked with Haagen Daz icecream." I present with a smirk, finding my eyes drawn to his tongue that peeks out to wet his lips.

He contemplates it for a moment and then replies, "Well I'm Scott McCall. I'm not a messy person either, I'm pretty handy in the kitchen, and I'm not a big Katy Perry fan. If you're going to catch me singing in the shower to anything, it will definitely be either Frank Sinatra or Ella Fitzgerald." He supplies with a cheeky grin, having must of heard the tail end of my conversation on the phone.

I giggle under my breath and a dimpled grin slips past my lips. So he's cute and funny, noted. Then the realization hits me.

When the fuck have I ever giggled?

He flashes a pair of disarming dimples that compliment his crooked jaw that's shadowed in stubble. His appearance falls together like it's dripping in sex, his dark hair and even darker eyes giving him a rugged, older vibe. It's all topped off with an appropriate amount of cologne that just the scent alone causes me to bit my lip to suppress a moan. With all these dirty thoughts running through my head, I can still see a gentleness in his eyes, the kind that brings me back to reality. I'm going to be stuck with this guy for at least a semester. No matter how devastatingly handsome he is, I have rules set in place and that includes no fucking my roommates.

It's as if Scott can see the cogs and wheels spinning around in my head. I wonder if he was thinking the same thing that I was. Because while he may seem innocent in an "I'm hot but I don't know it" kind of way, I can already tell that his smile has dropped more panties than I'm willing to think about. Except now, ironically, all I can think about is his mouth in the same vicinity as my panties.

I shake myself from my thoughts and hope I didn't take too long to answer. I've barely met the guy and he probably already thinks I'm slow, if you know what I mean.

"I actually love Ella Fitzgerald. My mom used to play Summertime every morning when she'd make my little sister Kylie and I breakfast. It was her favorite song." I muse, remembering better days when my mom and sister were alive and I didn't bear the guilt of their deaths.

His eyes seem to sadden at that, as if he knew there is more.

Scott stands a little straighter, looking to me for clarification, "Was?"

I swallowed the lump in my throat, "Yeah, was."

Sensing that I wasn't going to say anything else about it, he gave me a small smile and shuffled around me with a duffle bag and a suit case in hand.

He shot me a look over his shoulder, "So we're really going to do this, huh?"

Those damn dimples.

I stand my ground with my arms crossed over my chest, sizing him up to see if he was really down with this idea. It may not be the best idea in the world to live with someone who can possibly overpower me in a fight, especially an Alpha no less. But something tickles the back of my brain, a feeling of the calm before a storm, telling me that I can trust him.

I plop on the couch and grab the remote, popping in a piece of the white cheddar popcorn I'd cracked open earlier. My brown eyes turn to look at him, "I won't tell if you won't." Grinning, I watch him have an internal battle with himself before the cloudiness in his eyes subsides and he drops his luggage before settling down in the spot next to me.

Scott steals my bag of popcorn, throwing some back into his mouth as I glare at him, reaching for the bag as he holds it out of my reach.

"Hey!" I whine, grasping for the bad of cheesy goodness. He chuckles, continuing to evade my hands. He laughs at my efforts, but I am determined. My daisy dukes ride up a little higher as I stretch my body across his to retrieve my popcorn. I look up at him grinning down at me, "You're loving this, aren't you?" I accuse, a small pout resting on my face.

Scott snatches one more piece of popcorn before having mercy on me and returning my snack. I swipe it back fast, a residual glare ever-present, before I go at the bag again. He looks amused and I wonder what he's looking at.

I arch a brow at him, "Why are you looking at me like that, McCall?" I tease, seeing him fall out of his trance before reaching over towards me. I was slightly on the defense until his thumb swipes across the corner of my mouth just as he then sticks it in his mouth, licking it clean.

My cheeks instantly go red.

He looks at me innocently, "You had cheese on your face."

He moves off the couch and goes for his luggage, moving towards the empty room that would now belong to him.

Scott stops and turns back to face me. "I'm going to go unpack, but there's this party tonight that I was invited to and it'd be cool if you came… you know, if you want." He says nervously, his eyes going from the floor and then back up to meet mine.

It must be the same party Theo and Kira were trying to bully me into going to. I planned on watching Netflix all night. I'm on season 5 of Shameless and the show just keeps getting better and better. But maybe with Scott there it could be fun.

I pretend to think about it, "So I've heard. I don't know, those kind of parties aren't really my thing."

I can see the sarcastic comment on the tip of his tongue.

He looks at me disbelievingly, "You're not one of those hipsters, are you? Because you don't peg me as one." He says, that stupid grin back in place.

I shoot out of my seat, "What, no way! Those pretentious fucks are the bane of my existence, always talking about how Woodstock was the real Coachella and how the world we live in is a oblivious shoe box of mainstream media and politics." I grumble, "As if they were even alive when Woodstock happened, how would they know?" I whisper under my breath.

Scott looks at me like I've grown a second head, "Prove it, then."

I look at him confused, "What?"

His eyes call me out in challenge, "Come to the party tonight. It will probably be lame… but it will probably be a lot more fun if you are there." He says sheepishly.

I sigh, deciding what could it really hurt just by making an appearance. I narrow my eyes at him, "Fine, I'll go… but on one condition." I move over to the kitchen and grab a bottle of my favorite whiskey, "You're getting drunk with me."

He snags the bottle from my hands and takes a swig without grimacing, color me impressed.

He peers at me over the rim of the bottle and the flirtation that sits there makes my limbs feel like jelly. My cheeks ache from excitement. It's already hard not to smile around him.

He passes the bottle over to me and leans against the counter, his breath a mix of whiskey and peppermint, "I'm kind of a boring drunk." He warns, eyes twinkling in mirth when I take a long swig as well.

I place the bottle down on the island and lean into him, "Well unfortunately for you, I'm a friendly drunk."