First things first about this story, it is indeed an Isaac/OC story. I in no way intend for my OC to be a Mary-Sue, or a self-insert for myself. I, also, don't want her to resemble the typical character you find in the Teen Wolf category (i.e. Scott's sister, Stiles' sister, an endangered girl with latent supernatural powers). In essence, I want her to be different, but not different to the point that people are rolling their eyes.

Honestly, this is an attempt to etch out a normal teenage girl who has to deal with a very abnormal group of friends. She isn't a genius, but she can hold her own. She's not the most confident girl in the world, but her self-esteem isn't at the bottom of the Mariana Trench. That being said, she will absolutely be affected by the supernatural happenings of Beacon Hills.

So, warnings aside, I really hope you enjoy Margaret (Maggie, for friends) as much as I enjoy writing her character.

And finally, this piece will most likely be a little experiment in "stream of consciousness" writing. By "stream of consciousness" I guess I'm trying to imply that you will definitely have a window into her every thought—even if that thought is a little bit tangential. Hope you don't mind.

Thanks for taking the time to read my story.

Enjoy!

I don't own Teen Wolf or any recognizable events, places, or characters.

In my opinion, a lot of people at my school are acting out of the ordinary lately— namely the star players of the lacrosse team…and Stiles. Then again, Stiles has always been a little weird.

To be more specific, they don't typically get into fights that rip sinks off walls. Things like that have led me to be more and more suspicious as of late.

As if I'd actually be able to do anything about it. My best friend, Miranda, and I have been discussing it at length, though. We've tossed around a few theories, but nothing seems right. My personal favorite is that they're all in a cult that dopes its members on steroids. They're ripped, but not that ripped.

Other events include the sudden confidence gained by Erica. I consider that a fantastic development. I don't know Erica that well, but whenever I've talked to her she's been really nice, and I hate the way people treat her because of her epilepsy. It's not her fault that her biology acts against her, and I don't understand why seizures are considered "okay to laugh at." Sure, high schoolers have a reputation for being vicious, insensitive assholes, but sometimes it surprises me how far they'll go for a "joke."

Honestly, I couldn't care less about Jackson Whittemore, but it's tragic what's happening between him and Lydia. They used to be so happy, but then he had to go and be a douche, spurred on by a new pair of sunglasses, and break up with her for no apparent reason. Anyone with eyes could tell that they were meant for each other, even if they didn't want to admit it.

Then there's Scott and Allison…are they together now? Were they together in the first place? What? Their entire relationship confuses me. All I know is that her dad doesn't like Scott too much, which is weird because Scott is probably one of the most likeable people I know. It's not enough that he's just genuinely a nice person, but he also works with dogs and dogs are great. Call that a dumb reason for trusting someone all you want, but dogs are incredible judges of character.

Finally, and the weirdest "new development" on the list, my chemistry partner won't stop smelling me.

Isaac Lahey. What does one say about Isaac? I don't know him really. We're stuck sitting next to each other after that whole partner experiment fiasco that Mr. Harris put us through. He decided that our class deserved assigned seats for the rest of the year because he can't handle Stiles and Scott talking to each other during class anymore.

Despite not knowing Isaac very well, I'm still at teenage girl. I'm a teenage girl with hormones, and he is a very attractive teenage boy. So you could say I was both nervous, and excited by the opportunity to sit next to him. Even shy girls can get excited about that type of thing. I can forgive the fact that he seems to smell me all the time—I like the smell of my shampoo, too.

I guess you could say that that's why I was wringing my hands with a fervor and going over what I should say and do during my next class. During English, Miranda kept looking over at me from across the aisle, taking every chance she could to smile and laugh at my expense. She's the outgoing, talkative one while I typically smile along with her as I die of embarrassment/shyness on the inside.

Even my favorite class, Honors English, wasn't distracting me. Especially after the bell rang and I had to get up, walk all the way to chemistry, and sit down without making a fool of myself. Then I had to keep up the same trend of not embarrassing myself for that entire class period.

Miranda walked with me to class, stopping every once in a while to talk to people. My only stop was at my locker to exchange my copy of Hamlet for my chemistry textbook. And then, in no time at all, we'd arrived. Miranda strode over to her seat next to a brooding Jackson, while I carefully made my way over to the lab table I'm assigned to. Isaac wasn't there yet. I couldn't decide if that should settle my nerves or make them worse.

Sadly, it made them worse.

Isaac Lahey sauntered into the classroom mere seconds before the bell rang and slid into his seat next to me. I glanced over at him with a small smile and he shot me a wild grin. Wild, as in it made my heart beat wildly and probably made my face turn a wild shade of red.

Then Mr. Harris stood from his seat to begin the lesson after taking a forlorn survey of his students. He really does hate his life.

I didn't end up paying much attention to the lesson on stoichiometry. I probably should have considering Harris' disclaimer of it notoriously being the hardest subject for his students to grasp, but I couldn't concentrate. I couldn't keep my mind off of whatever Isaac was doing. I'll pass it off as not being used to being near attractive boys, let alone being in a situation where I'd have to talk to one on a regular basis. This entire experience is new for me.

When the bell rang, I expected Isaac to rush out the door like the rest of our classmates, but instead he stays behind and waits for me to put my stuff in my bag. I stood to make my way toward the door, but he stopped me by sticking his hand out for me to shake.

"Isaac Lahey, it's a pleasure to meet you lab partner." He says with his show-stopping grin.

"Margaret Turner, and the pleasure is all mine." I shake his hand, give him the biggest smile I can manage, and try not to blush.

"So, I was wondering if you would like to sort of study chemistry together sometime." He said with a confidence that I envied. He was also grinning again, and I had to remind myself to answer him.

"Oh, uh, definitely. Any specific times in mind?" Chemistry was our last period of the day, and I hadn't noticed that he was walking me out of the school toward the busses.

"Would every other day after school work for you? We could go to the public library. I know some quiet spots where we could talk freely." He seemed nervous at that point. As if I could say no.

"Sounds great! But I have to catch my bus now. I'll see you later, Isaac." I smiled at him one last time and thanked my lucky stars that I managed to have an actual conversation without getting flustered.

I climbed onto my bus and claimed the nearest window seat. As usual, my backpack took the spot next to me in order to save a seat for Miranda and I waited for my best friend to board the bus. I had to figure out this study session thing. I mean, I had never been asked to do anything with a boy before.

I don't think it's because I'm bad looking or anything. Average maybe, but not bad. Wavy auburn hair, dark green eyes, a little on the pale side, tons of freckles. No muscle to speak of. Not fat or skinny. Just average.

I shower everyday. So, it isn't bad hygiene.

No, it's the absence of social grace that plagues my everyday life. A boy can't really ask you out when you refuse to talk to them, and even when I do try to talk to them, words never really seem to come out of my mouth the way I would like them to…

But then I remembered that I shouldn't worry about it anyway—it's not like Isaac asked me out on a date or anything.

I really needed to talk to Miranda, lest I drive myself completely insane with my over-analyzations. Luckily, she finally moseyed her way to our seat and plopped herself down next to me. She shot me a sly look, which made me really uncomfortable, and started talking before I could present her with my problem.

"I overheard Erica and Isaac talking a few minutes ago." She said, as if it was an accusation, but she still held on to her mischievous expression.

"Okay…," I wasn't really sure how else to respond to her vague revelation.

"They were discussing Isaac's new study buddy, and how he really needs to stop creeping her out because Erica can tell from across the classroom that he stares at her the entire period." At that, I wasn't sure what to think. We have seven classes a day, so they technically could be discussing any of his classmates. Then again, I was really hoping that they had been talking about me, and suddenly a warm tingly feeling emanated from my stomach.

"Oh? Uh, sounds really interesting Miranda," I tried to play off my curiosity by taking a book out of my bag and picking up where I left off. Sadly, I couldn't become immersed in the novel because it was sooner ripped out of my hands and replaced in my line of vision with my smirking best friend.

"They were talking about you, hun."

"How do you kno-…," I couldn't finish as she quickly interrupted to fiercely share her news.

"They only said your name at every possible opportunity. If you ask me, they aren't the most inconspicuous bunch." She responded before I could ask, and finished off with an eye roll. "It's honestly a wonder that no one's figured out their secret, yet, in my opinion."

"Well, he did ask me if I wanted to study with him. After school, every other day. In a secluded part of the library," I mumbled.

I was concerned with how excited my oldest and best friend in the entire world was getting over a simple study schedule. She was practically bouncing up and down in her seat, but the bus was also bouncing rather violently down the gravel road that lead to our street, so maybe that manifestation of her excitement was simply a product of her environment. This is a common problem faced on our bus route, seeing as we live in one of the oldest areas of Beacon Hills and we don't have the pleasure of properly paved roads.

"Maggie, Maggie, Maggie! This is fantastic. Erica was putting lots of emphasis on how obvious it was that he's interested in you." I was severely blushing at this point, "They kept talking about how he was smelling you, too, which could be creepy or cute."

I grunted indignantly and snatched my book out of her hand. She had been waving it around for emphasis, and I feared for my own safety.

"Pray tell, Miranda. How is that cute? I'm not saying it's creepy, but it is a little weird." I fixed her with my one and only stare tactic that wouldn't even make bunny slippers run for cover.

"Well… he likes the way you smell? You do have nice shampoo. Whatever. The point is that he was apparently staring at you the entire period, too. I'm going to pay better attention tomorrow…"

I tuned her out a bit at this point because I started thinking about what it would mean if Isaac did actually like me. It's not terribly impossible, but before I could really get into exploring the why's and how's, the bus pulled up to my stop.

"See you tomorrow, Miranda. Have fun scheming." I didn't wait for her response as I hurried down the narrow aisle, hopped down the steps, and dashed into my house.

My house is one of the oldest in Beacon Hills, and belongs to the "historic" area. It's made of brick and surrounded by huge, beautiful trees that would be perfect for climbing if I actually had any skills. My room, in my expert opinion, has the best view in the whole house. It faces the backyard, which runs up to the Beacon Hills Preserve. The trees are so tall that every time I look out my windows I can only see a wall of green. I often find myself lazily, and quite horrendously, sketching the trees when I should be studying.

Three large bay windows provide my fairytale panorama, and my desk is situated underneath them for my viewing pleasure. It's covered in school papers, pencils, and my laptop is always placed precariously on top. The room is a soft lavender color with green and gray accents—it's very calming, which I think was the idea.

Needless to say, I love my room.

I have pictures of Miranda and I, of places I want to visit or have already visited, of people I want to meet covering one wall. Another wall has two giant book cases propped against it, both filled to the brim with books. I'm probably the least likely person to switch to the e-book revolution. I love the feel of paper too much, and the sense of accomplishment that comes with finishing a favorite.

My bed is backed up against the last wall. It's queen-sized and made of black wrought iron and is always bedecked with a soft flowery comforter and matching sheets. My pillows are strewn haphazardly since I was in a rush to finish cleaning my room this morning. I was in a hurry to eat breakfast, and my cleanliness often falls victim to the need to eat.

My closet is situated to the left of my bookcases, and I guess you could say that it's large. It's filled with clothes my mom picked out, and a small selection of sweaters and band tees that I picked out for myself. If she had her way, I would never wear a shirt with Brendon Urie's face on it ever again. Luckily, she isn't the type to force her children into the clothes-equivalent of torture instruments.

I was about to start in on my mountain of homework when I heard a soft knock on my door. My mom came in with a huge smile on her face. As usual, I jumped about half a foot in the air because I scare very easily— much to the chagrin of my mother, and the intense enjoyment of my brothers. My mom tutted and came over to give me a big hug.

"How was your day, sweetheart?" she asked.

"Oh, you know, high school is high school." I gave her a tightlipped smile and gestured at the stack of books sitting next to my open laptop. "I do get to sit next to a very attractive boy in chemistry now. So that's a plus. He actually suggested that we start studying on a regular basis. Miranda thinks he likes me, I think he just wants help with chemistry, and soon he'll find out that I'm not the girl for the job."

"Hmm…well, I wouldn't be so quick to think he doesn't like you. You never know," she said with that knowing look that all moms seem to have mastered.

"Yes, well, maybe. He is pretty cute," I said with a blush. "His name is Isaac."

"Well, I'm glad that you have a possible relationship on the horizaon, but I actually came in here to ask you a favor."

"Anything, mom." I gave her a smile, but I already knew, and almost dreaded, what she was going to ask.

"I was wondering if you could possibly baby sit your brothers tonight so that dad and I can go on a date." She asked with a wide, I-changed-your-diapers-so-you-owe-me smile.

My brothers are nothing short of a handful. There are four of them—two are twins, Avery and Sam, and they're thirteen. Duncan is ten, and Fred is eight. They're probably the most adorable kids on the planet, if you ask me, but they're also devious little twerps.

Avery and Sam weren't as bad since they were going through their mopey teenage stage, and I sympathized with them a lot. I mean, I had only recently gotten out of my mopey teenage stage. That being said, they're still teenagers and, therefore, they think they rule the world. They rarely listen to me, do the dishes when I ask, or help with their brothers. Mostly, they keep to themselves and play first-person shooter games in their bedroom. Not that I have anything against video games, I've just always been more of a strategy game kind of gal.

Then Duncan is the responsible one, probably a genius, too. He skipped fourth and fifth grade, and just so happens to be the youngest sixth grader at Beacon Hills Middle School. I worry about how being surrounded by older kids will affect his psyche, but he's always seemed to get along fairly well. It helps that he's always been incredibly mature for his age.

Then there's Fred… he's a ball of energy. I often compare him to his faux-namesake, Fred Weasley. You see, I've always been a major Potterhead, and when my mom asked me if I had any name suggestions for the new baby all of them came from the series. My mom actually warmed up to the name Fred and decided to honor my sisterly position by naming him after my favorite character from my favorite series. The catch was that she thought that it was just a normal name. Funnily enough, Fred Turner is a lot like Fred Weasley. He loves playing pranks, telling jokes, and making his family double over with laughter.

He's also always bouncing off the walls with energy and the desire to cause a bit of trouble.

"I'd love to, mom. When are you guys leaving?"

"Around seven. I recommend that you finish your homework now, so you won't have to come back to it after they're all asleep." She said with a wink. Obviously she knows how difficult it is to take care of them.

"Right, well, I'll get on that. Have a nice time." I kissed her on the cheek and waited for her to leave the room before slamming my head down on the desk and groaning from the pain and the long night ahead of me.