chapter one:
the new kid

There was always something strange about the small Californian town of Beacon Hills.

I was merely a child when my family moved here, but I had felt it even back then — a prickling on my skin and a chill that has never entirely left me. It was like an aura that lingered in the atmosphere and encased this tiny town from the rest of the world.

Unexplained fires, unsolved murders, mysterious disappearances — all kinds of weird phenomena that no one could seem to make sense of.

It was six years later, when I was in my eighth grade year, that my older brother's behavior took a drastic turn. The awkward, antisocial sophomore I grew up with had done a complete three-sixty and transformed into a whole new person. Scott became the lacrosse team captain, began spending time with the town outcast, Derek Hale, was frequently absent from school, and rarely returned home most nights. The school year was coming to end when Scott — against Derek's better judgment — finally confessed the truth, not that he had much choice in the matter.

The town bookstore was located just a few blocks from our house, and I had been walking back from it one night when this scaly blue, human-sized lizard dropped down onto the sidewalk, obstructing my path. I remember backing away slowly as its eyes glowed in the darkness, yelling out when the tail wrapped around my ankle and yanked me to the ground.

Seemingly out of nowhere, Derek and Scott came to my rescue, fighting off the creature with their own set of glowing eyes and claws to match. Once it had disappeared into a sewer drain, Scott was forced to explain, and I later aided in easing our mom into our new normal.

We all thought the worst had passed when Jackson left for London . . . but we quickly learned the worst had yet to come. We were faced with alphas, hunters, a Darach, a Nogistune, and Oni. Some of our best friends were lost, while others left town altogether, too broken to stay.

This small Californian town of Beacon Hills I'd grown to call my home over the years was crawling with the supernatural.

And little did I know, it was only the tip of the iceberg.

"You always make us late," I complained from the backseat of Stiles' blue jeep as he pulled into a parking spot. "I have a biology test first period."

Stiles cut the engine and looked back at me through the rearview mirror. "It's a long walk to school from your house, McCall."

I narrowed my chocolate-colored eyes at him. "Are you threatening me, Stilinski?"

"Nope, just making an observation." Stiles grinned, hopping out of the jeep.

"You do kind of drive like an old lady," Scott spoke up, getting out as well. He folded his seat down and helped me climb out.

"There's a difference between driving responsibly and driving like an old lady," Stiles said matter-of-factly, offering a hand to Malia as she began to climb out too.

Swatting it away, she opted to get out without assistance. "I'm with Joey," she declared, slinging her bag over shoulder, and I grinned in triumph. "We have a Calculus quiz this morning, Stiles, and I need time to review. Lydia's notes don't make any sense."

"I'll come over tonight to help you study for the test tomorrow," he responded as we walked toward the front entrance of Beacon Hills High School.

"Hey, don't forget we have tryouts after school today," Scott said suddenly, reminding me that I would have to sit on the hard lacrosse field bleachers for two hours while he inevitably showed up the freshmen.

"Don't worry, Kira and I are being forced to attend too," Malia assured, noticing the unpleasant expression on my face.

Stiles raised a dark eyebrow at her. "Forced?"

"You guys have to stop letting Stiles drive," Lydia declared, meeting us at the doors before Malia could reply. "I've been waiting for twenty minutes."

Scott shrugged. "He won't listen to reason."

"What is wrong with my driving?" Stiles exclaimed, dramatically throwing his arms in the air.

With a laugh, Malia pushed Stiles into their classroom, Lydia following close behind.

Scott and I both had class on the second floor, so we continued down the bustling hallway and up the stairs together. We were about halfway up when two boys who had been going down slowed to a stop beside us. I immediately identified the blonde one as Garrett Thompson — who's attached at the hip with his girlfriend — but I didn't recognize the one with darker hair.

Our eyes met as he glanced from Scott to me, and I forced my gaze to the floor, self-consciously tucking a lock of hair behind my ear.

"Hey, McCall, nervous about tryouts?" Garrett asked, a hint of a taunt in his tone.

Chancing another look in the brown-haired boy's direction, I resisted the urge to squirm where I stood when his eyes wandered below my face and over my figure, lingering in all the places they shouldn't. Once he brought his light eyes back up to mine and gently smirked, my cheeks flooded with warmth.

I gave him a small smile in return, desperately trying to ignore the knot in my stomach.

"I'm the captain, Garrett," Scott replied in a polite manner, his voice reminding me of their conversation. "What do I have to be nervous about?"

Garrett only grinned, like he had knowledge of something Scott didn't, and clapped the boy with the light eyes on the shoulder. "This is Liam Dunbar, he just transferred from Devenford Prep. He's trying out today, too."

"Nice to meet you," my brother said. "I'm Scott."

"I know." Liam's tone was sprinkled with admiration. "I mean, everyone does, right? You made team captain as a sophomore."

Scott smiled, but didn't miss Liam's eyes flicker in my direction once more.

"This is my sister, Josephine," he introduced.

All three boys had their attention on me, I could feel the faint remainder of a blush on my cheeks, I still had to review my biology notes, and I was so to infinity and beyond done with this encounter that I didn't even bother to correct Scott when he referred to me by my full name.

"We're going to be late," I announced instead, turning to face Scott. "And I have a biology test. We'll see you guys at tryouts."

Without waiting for a response from any of them, I grabbed my brother's arm and pulled him along with me as I fled up the last couple of steps.

Nailed it.

"Why the hell are you even worrying about this?" Stiles demanded of Scott as we headed out of the main building over to the lacrosse field. "You're still the captain. We have like, a hundred and seventeen million problems, and I promise you, our status on the team is not one of them."

Scott was hardly convinced. "Coach said all positions are open. All positions, Stiles. How do you interpret that statement?"

Stiles rolled his brown eyes, but didn't respond as we reached the field. On one side, there were a few boys warming up — passing and running drills — but the other side of the field grabbed our attention fast. There was a masked boy in goal, his body tense as he clutched his lacrosse stick. Garrett and another player I didn't know were hurling ball after ball at him, but he moved swiftly, catching each one.

"Who the hell is that?" Stiles demanded, eyes trained on the aforementioned goalie.

The boy removed his helmet, and my mouth nearly fell open.

"Liam," I said aloud, taken way off guard. I hadn't seen anyone with such a natural affinity for lacrosse since Jackson.

Stiles shot me a sharp look. "Who?"

"Liam Dunbar," Scott elaborated, gesturing at him with his stick. "He's a new transfer. We met him this morning."

My attention drifted back to Liam, who was chatting idly with Garrett. With a lean build, it was easy to tell that Liam was an athlete. The pair switched to passing a ball back and forth, my eyes following the way Liam's muscles moved beneath his Nike pullover.

My skin is clear, my crops are thriving, I have 20/20 vision, and humanity is saved.

As if he sensed my gaze on him, Liam glanced over in our direction, his eyes falling onto me. My cheeks flushed from a combination of my own thoughts and the smirk he sent me — he couldn't read minds, right? — causing me to instantly look elsewhere.

"What was that?" Stiles' tone was accusatory.

I crossed my arms nonchalantly. "What was what?"

"Liam," Stiles hissed, his words laced with disdain. "The way he just looked at you—" Stiles took a glance over his shoulder, "—the way he keeps looking at you . . . it makes me uncomfortable and I don't like it."

"Stiles—" Scott began.

"McCall, Stilinski, let's go!" Coach Finstock boomed. "We're running the mile! Let's go, let's go!" He blew his whistle incessantly while simultaneously shouting at them to move faster.

With a sigh, I walked over the bleachers and dropped onto a bench near the bottom. Kira and Malia joined me ten minutes later, taking a seat on either side of me just as the last of the boys finished running. Liam had come in first — somewhere around six minutes — but he didn't even pause to rest like the others; he went straight into push-ups.

"Good, Liam!" Coach praised.

The bench shook beneath me, and I glanced toward Kira, who was bouncing her leg absentmindedly as she stared out at the field. On the other side of my raven-haired friend, Malia met my eyes, a look passing between us.

"What's wrong with you?" Malia questioned bluntly, gazing unblinkingly at Kira. "You reek of anxiety. It's very distracting."

Kira looked reluctant.

"What's going on, Kira?" I prodded in a gentler tone. In my peripheral vision, the boys were forming a line for the next part of tryouts – scoring a goal. Coach Finstock's motto? If you couldn't get a ball in the net, you couldn't play lacrosse.

Kira (vaguely) explained what happened between her and Scott after first period.

"What do you want it to be?" Malia asked once she was finished.

Kira looked thoughtful for a moment before confessing, "More."

My attention was called back to the field by the sound of laughter. Stiles was walking back to the end of the line while Liam stepped forward and scooped up a ball. A corner of his lips turned up in a ghost of a smile before he shot forward, his arm arcing in the air as he whipped the ball toward the goal. It flew past the goalie and hit the net with force.

"Yes, Liam!" Coach Finstock cheered. "That is what I'm talking about, people!"

Liam beamed, catching my eyes. My cheeks flushed (Jesus Christ, why couldn't I stop?) and Liam bit down on his lip before jogging to the end of the line.

Scott was up next, and he threw the ball the same as Liam had, but instead of going into the goal, it ricocheted off one of the posts with a clink. The boys broke out into laughter again, and I felt just as confused as Scott looked.

"Nice, McCall," Garrett mocked, still chuckling. Even though the blond-haired cretin wasn't looking at me, I still directed a scowl at him.

After Stiles ordered Garrett to shut up, the tryout continued. While Liam scored consistently — every time his turn came around, actually — Scott and Stiles missed consistently, each ball flying over or past the goal.

"Isn't the captain supposed to be one of the best players on the team?" Kira whispered, watching as another one of Scott's balls soared past the net. "Or good?"

"Generally yes," I answered, trying to decipher what was going on with him. "He's supposed to be."

Coach Finstock called for a water break, which all the players took immediate advantage of. As everyone else headed for their drink or toweled off, Stiles brought Scott into a hushed conversation a few feet away, and I observed them for a moment as they talked. I was just about to lose interest when I caught a glimpse of Scott's glowing red eyes.

I followed his glare to Liam, who was being swarmed by some seniors.

I instantly pushed off the bench and stalked onto the field.

"What do the two of you think you're doing?" I asked as I joined them.

"Stay out of it, Joey," Stiles said dismissively.

"No, Stiles, I will not stay out of it," I argued, stopping him and Scott from walking away.

Scott sighed. "Joey—"

"Are you planning on hurting Liam?" I cut right to the point. They exchanged a look, but remained silent, and my chocolate brown eyes widened incredulously. "Are you?"

"No," Scott answered quickly, locking gazes with me. "Of course not."

"Why do you care so much, anyways?" Stiles demanded.

"What do you have against him?" I countered, crossing my arms.

Stiles narrowed his eyes. "Don't you think it's a little strange how Liam caught every shot earlier?"

"He was in goal, Stiles!" I whisper-shouted. He was being absolutely ridiculous. "He was the goalie, the balls aren't supposed to get past him."

"He didn't miss one single shot, Joey," he whisper-shouted back at me. "And, he didn't transfer from Devenford Prep—he was expelled."

I stared at him in disbelief. "What did you do, interrogate him?"

Before either of them could answer, Coach was blowing his whistle again.

I reluctantly returned to my seat between Kira and Malia, while the boys huddled in front of Coach Finstock. My heartbeat rose as Coach ordered Scott and Stiles to cover goal for two-on-one's.

The pair complied, grabbing their helmets, gloves, and longer sticks. I chewed at the inside of my cheek as they shifted into a defensive stance, like a bull before it was about to charge.

The whistle sounded, and Garrett ran toward Scott and Stiles. He pivoted around both Stiles and Scott, but at the last moment, Scott knocked Garrett's stick to the ground.

"That's how you do it!" Finstock was yelling. "That's how it's done!"

Player after player went up against the two, but Stiles and Scott shouldered them down each time.

And then came the next person in line.

Liam.

The anticipation in the air was almost palpable as he charged forward. He faked out Stiles, narrowly dodged Scott, and twirled, whipping the ball into the goal. The people in the stands behind us cheered, and I let out a heavy sigh of relief, dropping my head into my hands.

"That was luck!"

My head snapped up at Malia's shouting. She was on her feet, shouting out to Coach Finstock. I hadn't even known she was paying attention.

Panic gripped me as she cupped her hands around her mouth. "Do over!"

"Sweetheart, there are no 'do overs'." Finstock mocked. "This is a tryout."

Malia wasn't ready to back down. The characteristic just wasn't in her nature. "Ten bucks on Scott and Stiles."

"I'll take that action," Coach conceded. "Get back in there, Liam!"

Malia smiled happily and sank back down while I watched on with dread. This wasn't going to end well.

Liam looked more determined than I had seen him throughout the entire tryout as he stared down Scott, who looked equally determined.

The whistle blew, and Liam rushed forward once again. Just like the first time, he faked out Stiles, but this time around, he didn't make it past my brother.

I gasped as Scott rammed him, sending Liam over his shoulder, who hit the ground with a crunch.

That did not sound good.

A/N: Behind Pretty Eyes has officially entered the Editing Phase! My writing skills and style have changed so much since I started this and just reading through it the other day made me realize how cringy some parts of it are, parts that need smoothed over. And you'll probably notice how as the chapters go on they get more and more detailed, more plot gets added, so I'm just going to be working on this a bit, changing some things up.

Chapters that have a "—" have been edited!

I'm also currently working on a chapter for Instinct — the sequel to this story (for those who are new readers) — and I plan to have it uploaded within the next couple of days so keep an eye out!