The Sicilian Defence [Derek Hale]

Chapter Two

Staring out at the board in front of me, I glanced up at the opponent carefully. He was good, I'd give him that. But I'd played him a thousand times and I knew that I was better. "You gonna make your move?" He asked and I raised my brow at him carefully before I sighed leaning back in my seat and looking up to the ceiling. Chess parts grew from the ceiling and just like that I could see the whole play in front of me: every move, every action, every fault, every success. I could faintly hear him talking but I didn't register any of his words.

After going through several plays I sat back up moving my piece and hitting the clock. I knew exactly which play through I was going to go with. "What do you see?" He asked and I hummed as I made another move hitting the clock again and writing the past two moves down on the paper beside me. "You do it all the time. Every time someone makes a new move shifting the balance of the game you look to the ceiling," he explained, "what do you see?"

"I see the game."

"What do you think he sees?" He asked as he hit the clock and I looked up at him confused being dragged from the attention of the game. "There's a man staring at us, surely he can't see anything from all the way over there," he explained and I turned in my seat to find the person he was talking about. There was no-one.

Turning back to look at the opponent, an awkward smile broke out on my face, "are you messing with me?" I asked and he shook his head. "Okay then," I muttered before continuing with the game. It went exactly as I had planned. I won.

Stepping back into the house, my brows furrowed as a loud crash came from upstairs. "What the..." my voice trailed as I jogged up the stairs my muscles and bones aching in protest. As I got to Stiles bedroom, Scott stormed out past me and I raised my brow at him allowing my gaze to linger on his retreating form before I turned back to Stiles.

His body was shaking from what was presumed fear and his eyes were red with fresh tears forming, "what happened?" I asked. Walking closer into the room I grabbed onto his desk chair straightening it out. My eyes caught on the slash marks in the leather, "what did you do to your chair?"

"What?" He asked.

"Your chair," I repeated spinning it around so that he could see the damage.

"Werewolf," he muttered.

"What?"

"Werewolf, I think Scott's a werewolf. Look what he's done to the chair-"

"Do you have any other evidence?"

"Okay so, this morning I overheard my dad on the phone. The fiber analysis came back from the lab in L.A. They found animal hairs on the body from the woods! It was a wolf. There are no wolves in California, and then Scott gets bit, he has some miraculous abilities and now this, I'm telling you he's a werewolf," he explained his voice breaking from his desperation of trying to get his point across.

I nodded slowly, I wasn't sure whether I believed him or not. On the one hand, he'd given some very good points, on the other hand... it all seemed a little stretched out and I didn't class it as scientific evidence. "Okay," I began trying to work out how to say what I needed to say, "I'm not saying I believe you... but you give valid points. If you can get more evidence...I will believe you," I finalised and he nodded his head.

"Okay, yeah. I can do that. Now then, are we going to go to the party?" He asked.

"Party?"

"Lydia's party, I just thought if I showed up with a senior it might boost my position in the social bubble," he pointed out.

I softened my eyes and tilted my head putting a smile on my face, "it doesn't matter what I do, you're stuck where you are sweetheart," I mocked and his smile fell completely turning into annoyance, "besides I don't think me showing up is gonna help much."