Author's note: Hello, everyone! This is my first story, so be gentle :) As stated in the description, this is eventually going to be a Derek/OC story. I figure he's probably around 21 (?), so dating an eighteen year old wouldn't be unheard of. I realize that my OC may seem a bit immature in the beginning, but I assure you (without giving too much away) that she will be forced to change.
Disclaimer: I own nothing aside from the Bell family.
An oversized forest-green SUV made its way down a deserted and winding road, a table strapped to the top and a moving van following closely behind. The weather was dreary – cloudy, but not quite raining. All in all, it was a very mundane scene. Inside the car, a nuclear family bickered relentlessly.
"You know we didn't have a choice, Amy – I'm sorry that you're so upset, but this is what's best," a middle-aged woman asserted tiredly. This conversation had been re-hashed many times before.
"But Mom, it's my senior year! How can you do this? How could you make me do this, how could you make me leave my friends?"
"You're mother's right, it's not as if we deliberately tried to ruin your last year of high school," the father agreed. "This promotion was a godsend – it's going to be great for all of us, you'll see. Just give it time."
"Try to be a bit more mature about the situation," the mother added, "I know it's hard, but you'll make new friends. We at least waited until after your birthday to leave, didn't we? You still have a month before school starts to get your bearings. Look at your brother – he's not complaining."
The girl, Amy, snapped her head to the right to look upon her silently-smug younger brother, Ian.
"It's not as if he even had any friends in the first place," she quipped acidly.
"Don't talk to him like that," her mother retaliated with equal vigor.
Amy inhaled sharply through her nostrils and took a moment to compose herself. "Look," she started more calmly, "just because I'm young, everyone assumes that I don't know what I'm talking about – I'm sick of it! I had a whole life built up back home, and you see nothing wrong in just tearing me away from it. I'm nothing more to you than an accessory."
"Don't be ridiculous," her mother snapped. "We understand that you had a 'life,' as you put it. In only a year you'll be on your own in college, and you'll see what it's like to be independent. But until then, you have to learn to cooperate with the rest of this family."
"Technically, I'm eighteen – a legal adult," she asserted.
"Yes, and technically your father and I are not legally obligated to support you anymore, are we?"
Amy huffed testily and put her ear-buds back in, directing her attention out the window. She knew that her parents had a point, but said knowledge certainly did not dull the pain of having to leave those she cared about. Her friends – the people she'd grown up with – were now miles away. Sure, they could keep in touch, but it would never be the same.
"How much longer?" Ian asked, speaking for the first time in over an hour. His voice was unfamiliarly low, a result of his age.
"Only about fifteen more minutes, sweetie," the mother replied.
They soon reached their destination, a well-maintained redbrick home. It was significantly bigger than their previous house, a constant reminder of the reason they were there: money. The family was now situated in a very obviously wealthy cul-de-sac; most of the other houses were comparably extravagant. Amy hoped – no, prayed – that her neighbors weren't going to be the stuck-up snobs she suspected they were. Seeing as it was very early in the morning and no one was around, she wouldn't be able to tell for a few hours.
After parking their car in the long, gray driveway, they stepped out and wrenched open the trunk. The large moving van took its place behind them, and the stocky men inside soon filtered out and began unloading their furniture.
Amy and Ian took their suitcases out of the back and entered the unlit and eerily empty house.
It took the rest of the morning to get settled in, but by noon, the exhausted Bell family had finished their transition. As her parents sent the movers off with cheerful waves and smiles, Amy sat on her bedroom floor and began unpacking the myriad boxes containing her belongings.
Not long after, her mother appeared in the doorway. "You should go and introduce yourself to some of the neighbors," she suggested lightly.
"Why?" Amy deadpanned.
"Because it's the right thing to do – maybe you'll meet someone your age."
"Honestly, could you give me a day? We just got here. I saw my friends yesterday, and I'm really not looking to replace them so quickly," she said darkly.
"I'm not asking you to replace you're friends, don't be so over-dramatic. I'm asking you to go meet our neighbors. You're going to have to eventually, why not just get it out of the way?"
"Is Ian going to meet the neighbors?" she asked in a falsely sweet tone.
Her mother stiffened and defensively replied, "You know your brother isn't the most social of people."
"So that's a no, then."
"I don't want to argue with you. Just do what I asked, please," the older woman snapped in irritation, turning and walking back down the staircase.
Amy rolled her eyes in exasperation, but stood nevertheless. She trudged down the stairs and begrudgingly out the door. Although it had been overcast earlier in the day, it was now warm and sunny.
She arbitrarily picked one of the houses beside hers and walked up the driveway to the front door. She then proceeded to ring the doorbell and wait, drumming her foot impatiently against the step. After a minute or two, it became apparent that either no one was home or no one wanted to talk to her.
"Off to a great start," Amy grumbled to herself. She then moved on to the next house, which was somewhat similar in style to her own and had a car parked out front; she rang the doorbell.
After only a few moments, a thirty-something year old woman appeared. She had wavy, dirty-blonde hair and strong features. "Can I help you?" she asked. Her raspy voice was both unexpected and quite intimidating.
"I – uh – I'm Amy Bell. I live next door," she stammered. "We just moved in and I thought I'd stop by and introduce myself."
"I'm Kate Argent," the other woman replied, "But, well, I don't actually live here… This is my brother's house. Although," she continued, "My niece is probably around your age. You look like you're in high school, am I right?"
"You should meet her, then. I can only assume that you don't really know anyone yet. Allison!" she called.
"What," came another voice from somewhere else in the house.
"Come here for a minute."
Soon, another girl appeared. She was pretty, with long brown hair and a kind face. She vaguely resembled her relative, but her demeanor wasn't as harsh.
"This is Amy. She just moved in. Have fun" her aunt said bluntly. With that, she disappeared back into the large house.
"Hi," the girl greeted with a gentle smile.
"Hey," the other replied somewhat nervously.
"So, you just moved here?" Allison initiated.
"That's cool – I just moved here last year, so I know how it feels to be new. Are you going to be going to Beacon Hills High?"
"Yeah, I think so…"
"What year are you?"
"I'm going to be a senior, you?"
"Same. It must suck that you had to move away for your last year," she commented compassionately.
"You're telling me," Amy agreed. "But I guess there's nothing I can really do about it…"
"That's true – hey, I was just about to go into town with my friend Lydia… Why don't you come with us?"
Amy thought it over for a minute, before replying, "Sure, that would be fun… Let me just let my parents know." She then pulled out her phone and sent a quick text to her mother. "They're a little overbearing," she remarked after looking up.
"Trust me, I can relate," Allison groaned. "But Lydia's driving, so hopefully she'll be here soon. Here, come inside – I'll give you a tour in the meantime."
They stepped through the doorway, and a middle-aged man with scruffy salt-and-pepper hair – presumably Allison's father – came into view.
"This is my dad," she said unenthusiastically. "Dad, this is Amy. She just moved in next door."
"Nice to meet you," Amy said shyly.
"Welcome to Beacon Hills," he said with a smile. "Allison, you should show her around."
"What do you think I'm doing?" she spat.
Her father looked mildly hurt, but soon resumed what he had been doing before they came in – reading the paper.
After Allison showed Amy her room, the former's phone began vibrating wildly.
"Lydia's here," she announced.
Sure enough, Amy looked out the window and saw a small black car parked in the driveway. Before they moved, Allison said, "I should warn you, Lydia isn't exactly the most friendly of people… Once you get to know her she's fine, but she can come off as being a little… high maintenance," she finished carefully.
The two girls descended the staircase; Lydia exited the car as they came into view.
"And who are you," she asked Amy before anyone got a chance to do introductions.
"I'm Amy, I just moved here," she said, somewhat taken aback by the other girl's abruptness. Lydia was just as pretty as Allison, but in a slightly more delicate way. She was pale, like the other two girls, and had reddish hair; she was groomed meticulously from head to toe.
Amy could practically feel herself being judged as Lydia's scrupulous eyes surveyed her.
"Lydia," she said finally. "So, you've just moved here, huh?"
"Well, since we've apparently acquired the habit of taking in strays, Allison and I will be happy to show you around. You were lucky to get Allison as a neighbor, that's for sure – school hasn't even started and you're already meeting all the right people."
Amy was so shocked by this comment that she didn't even know how to properly respond. Apparently, Lydia and Allison were the school's self-proclaimed popular girls; she sincerely hoped she wasn't about to enter a Cady/Regina George situation. Trying to find the right words to respond, she eventually settled upon, "Yeah, thanks for doing this – I didn't mean to interfere with your plans or anything."
"Don't be silly – we don't mind having you here at all," Allison assured her; she was clearly mortified by Lydia's conduct.
Soon, they'd entered the quaint town of old Beacon Hills; Lydia parallel parked her car on Main Street with an expertise derived from a year of suburban driving. They strolled up to a cozy-looking coffee shop and the bell chimed behind them as they opened the door. After they'd bought their drinks, the girls took a seat at one of the small tables positioned along the sidewalk – they had a perfect view of all the people passing by.
"So, what do you guys usually do for fun?" Amy asked in an attempt to be friendly.
"The usual," Lydia replied boredly, "You know, go to movies, bowling and stuff. This town's pretty sleepy."
"How can you say that," Allison exclaimed in surprise. She turned to Amy and very matter-of-factly said, "A few months ago, there was murder – it was crazy. I can't even explain it – we were there when it happened. Lydia and I – "
"And our exes," Lydia interrupted.
"And Scott and Jackson were in the school one night, right? My ex – Scott – had texted me and told me to meet him there. But when I found him and his friend Stiles, he told me that he'd never texted me. We were chased by someone and ended up being trapped in the chemistry lab. Eventually, Stiles called his dad, who's the sheriff, and the police came and we were fine. But they found out that the janitor had been murdered."
"Oh my god! Did they ever find out who did it?" Amy asked.
"They said it was this guy named Derek Hale, but they never found him."
"For all we know, he could still be running loose in Beacon Hills," Lydia added.
"Don't say that – it'd be stupid for him to stay here," Allison reasoned nervously. "He probably went as far away as possible. That was months ago – who knows where he could be by now."
Lydia simply shrugged and took a sip of her coffee in response.
"I bet my parents didn't know about that when they decide to move here," Amy remarked with a laugh. If and when they found out, it would be the ultimate "I told you so" moment.
"Why did that guy do it?" Amy asked.
"Who knows," Lydia answered, "His whole family died in a fire and then he just disappeared and apparently went off the deep end."
"Who's to say that he didn't start the fire himself…" Amy commented.
Allison shook her head; "It was arson, but he was in the house when it happened so it couldn't have been him."
"That's what the police say, anyway," Lydia added.
"You don't believe it?" Amy asked.
"Look," the other girl said, leaning over the table conspiratorially, "he didn't just up and leave after that fire for no reason. And it seems awfully convenient that they never found whoever started the fire, either."
"So basically there could be a crazed murderer running around the town? I'd say that's pretty interesting…"
"I think you mean dangerous," Allison corrected. "As if my dad wasn't overprotective enough already, now he's pretty much a paranoid maniac."
"Just wait 'til my parents find out," Amy commented, "They'll put an electric fence around the house…"
"My dad sells hunting equipment," Allison said, "You can only imagine what that means… Basically, we have a bonafide arsenal in the garage."
"She's not lying," Lydia added dryly.
"Oh my god," Amy laughed.
"I know, right? It's insane."
"So about these exes…" Amy started slyly after a few beats of silence.
Lydia perked up immediately and took on a completely different persona. "Oh I'll tell you all about them," she insisted chirpily.
After about an hour of animated gossip, Amy felt that she was well informed regarding the ins and outs of Beacon Hills High. When Lydia dropped her and Allison off at their respective houses, she walked through the doorway and was greeted by her mother.
"Did you have fun?" she asked.
"Yeah, but don't even start with me. I'm not looking for a lecture on how I should listen to you more often, okay? I just want to be left alone."
"I know this is all hard on you, honey, but I really think you'll adjust well. So, who was it you were out with?"
"This girl Allison Argent who lives next door and her friend Lydia."
"They were both nice, especially Allison."
"Argent, did you say?"
"Yeah, I met her dad and aunt. They seemed pretty nice too, I guess."
"And she goes to Beacon Hills High?"
"Yeah, they both do. I'm gonna go upstairs – anything else you want to interrogate me on before I'm gone?"
"No, I think that just about covers it. But Amy?"
"I know it seems like your father and I are ignoring your feelings on all this, but it really was the best decision for the whole family. We do love you, sweetie, and we're not doing this to make you unhappy. Just remember that, okay? If there had been a way to postpone this for another year and let you finish high school, we would have done it."
"Okay, Mom," she replied. "Love you too." As much as she hated it when her parents spoke to her like a five year old, she had to admit that it was touching to know how badly her mother wanted them to be back on good terms.