So, this little story has been hiding in the back of my storage drive for a couple years now. I decided to finally post it because why not. Plot gets nice and juicy after chapter 2 :))

CHAPTER 1

Rori pulled her car into the parking lot of the Glenn Capri motel. For a tiny place in the middle of nowhere, it wasn't all that bad.

She'd been in Forestdale for the past week, visiting her father and stepmother. It wasn't often she was able to see them after she was sent away to live with Uncle Thomas.

It's for your own safety, her father, Patrick's, voice echoed in her head.

She only ever saw her parents every few months and her uncle was scarcely home due to his work. Though Rori enjoyed her new life in Beacon Hills, she was admittedly lonely.

Now, as she swung her duffel bag over her shoulder and clicked her silver car locked, Rori headed to the front office. She placed her identification on the counter and handed some cash to the wheezing lady on the other side of the desk, asking for a room for the night.

"Sorry, sweetie," the lady said, not sounding at all sorry, "Only one free bed and it's in a room with one of his kids."

Rori turned to look where the lady was gesturing. A man with dark hair and a whistle around his neck had just finished making coffee with the ancient machine collecting dust in the corner. Taking a sip, his expression soured and he immediately spat the mouthful back into the Styrofoam cup. The man tossed the drink into the garbage as though it were the plague itself and proceeded to shiver in disgust. It was almost comical, and were Rori not upset about possibly not having a bed to sleep in, she might have laughed at Coach Finstock.

As if realising he was being watched, he looked over to the counter. "What? 'S there something on my face?"

Rori fought back a smile. The old lady grunted, unamused. "One of your kids got the only room with a spare bed. She shares with yours, or she don't got a bed to sleep on."

The lady's tone was lacking any sympathy for Rori, who looked pleadingly at the Coach.

The man looked taken aback. "Hell no. I'm not letting some random stranger share a room with one of my best players!"

"Random stranger?" Rori asked incredulously, "Mr Finstock, I'm in your Economics class."

He paused and looked at her scrutinisingly before his face showed recognition. "Rori? Rori!" He beamed as he approached, "What the hell are you doing out here? You're not stalking my team are you?"

Rori laughed softly. "No, sir. I'm on my way back from visiting my parents."

"Well in that case, I got no issue with you taking up the last bed." He turned to the old woman, "She can share with one of mine."

After a fleeting conversation about how she'd passed the latest pop quiz with flying colours, Rori and Finstock reached a door labelled 213.

"Lahey, I'm coming in!" He yelled as he unlocked the door, "Make yourself decent!"

The door swung open as Finstock handed her the second room key. He gestured for her to enter first.

Inside the room were two twin beds on the left wall, an old television set on the right, and behind that was the door to the bathroom. Out of the door stepped a boy. He was tall, broad: the lacrosse type that Finstock favoured. He wore a white shirt and blue pants. The boy was towelling his damp hair as he walked, pausing when he noticed his coach wasn't alone.

"Lahey, this is your roommate for the night." The man declared. "Now I know what you stupidly hormonal teenagers are like, so separate beds, people."

"Yes, sir." Rori said honestly.

The coach looked between the two of them suspiciously. "Seriously, no funny business. None. If I catch you doing the do, Lahey, you'll be benched the next game, and you, Missy," He gazed down at her pointedly, "You'll have detention when we get back."

Rori pursed her lips and nodded her head, trying not to roll her eyes at his absurdness. Honestly, it was as if he thought teenagers wanted nothing but sex.

"Play nice." He warned as he finally left, closing the door behind him.

Rori turned to face the boy. He now had his towel hanging around his neck and his chin slightly raised, a watchful and guarded expression on his face. Rori, without comment, made her way to the far side of the left bed. She began pulling out her nightwear and her toiletries, placing them on the bed in an orderly line.

The boy walked between the two beds, standing on the opposite side of her mattress.

"You look familiar." It was said offhandedly, but his curiosity was still obvious to her.

"I would expect as much. I'm in your year." Rori looked up from her work briefly and sent him a smile.

"Got a name?"

"Rori."

"Isaac."

Isaac sniffed quietly and she raised her head once more. The boy seemed surprised at his own actions.

"Have you got any allergies I should know about?" She pried.

"No, no. I'm not allergic to anything. Do you smell that?" Then he sneezed.

That's when Rori became suspicious. She picked up the nearest thing to her -a water bottle- and held it out to him.

"Could you put this on the nightstand, please?"

Isaac reached for it, but as his fingertips brushed the skin of her hand he inhaled, and another terrible sneeze overcame him. His eyes flashed yellow. As he opened his mouth, about to start babbling an explanation, Rori asked, "Beta or omega?"

Isaac's lips parted in shock. "How did you…"

"Know you were a werewolf?" Rori finished with a smile, "My family secret, I guess."

"You're a born werewolf." He concluded.

She laughed lightly. "Nope, just human. Stepmother's one, though. Taught me all the secrets."

Isaac scrunched his nose, fighting off yet another sneeze. "What's happening to me?"

Rori smirked playfully and held up a small bottle. "Wolfsbane perfume. Dad says I have to wear it when I'm travelling. Lets me know who I'm getting involved with. Neat, huh?"

Isaac grimaced at the bottle in her hand, stepping away cautiously. "I guess you could say that."

Rori threw the bottle in and zipped up the bag now that she had everything she needed and slid it under the bed. "Don't worry, I'm not gonna try anything fishy."

Isaac snorted. "I'd be comforted if it weren't for the scent of wolfsbane making me feel like someone punched me in the face."

Rori smiled apologetically. "Sorry about that. You seem like a nice guy and all, so I don't think you'd try anything unsavoury either, but just be warned that if you try to rip my throat out I'll contaminate your respiratory system with enough wolfsbane perfume to last me a year." She scooped up the pyjamas. "I've seen it happen once. It was…" She shuddered.

Isaac was looking at her like he was unsure how to feel about being in her presence. "You don't have to worry about that kind of thing from me." He assured her.

"Great! Friends then?" She grinned widely, cheerily at him.

He finally smiled at her. "Sure. Friends."

"You know; I'd shake your hand or something but it'd most likely just mess your nose up even more."

Isaac chuckled quietly. "Maybe another time."

Rori started walking. "I'm gonna have a shower and get all this wolfsbane off me. You might not keep away from me so much afterwards."

When the door was shut and the water running, Isaac hmph-ed, content, and sat on his bed with a quirked smile.

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