There's no place Rebecca Stilinski hated more than Beacon Hills. Being back for the Summer and having to stay indefinitely sucked. What sucked even more was the preserve in the woods when it was dark and creepy. Or light out, actually.

Woods weren't her thing in general.

So when Greenberg from the lacrosse team asked her to go out there with him, for some reason he wouldn't call it a date and she still has no clue how the hell he got her number in the first place (oh, well), she called Lydia to ask about him first. She knew everyone and despite Rebecca being a grade below, they had bonded over owning the same brand of swim suit during a visit to the local pool.

"Greenberg?" Lydia asked, confused for a second. "Oh, right! Lacrosse team. I've only talked to him a few times at the bake sales, but he's definitely cute, but more adorable cute than gorgeous cute. Nice body. Not too bright, but whatever. Jackson hates him, but I think everyone pretty much does. He flashed some middle schoolers at the mall last Christmas and tp'd Coach Finstock's car for some reason."

"Why?" Rebecca inquired, but really didn't care why everyone hated him.

"Why what?"

"Why does everyone hate him?"

Silence.

"Not a clue. But go for it. Look at it this way: if all goes well you'll have an upperclassman boyfriend to start the school year off with."

So, there she was. In his Honda. IN THE FUCKING DARK. And he's kissing her with his hand down her shirt trying unsuccessfully to unhook the lacy black bra she picked out for this ceremonious occasion. Big mistake.

Rebecca looked over at him, trying to breathe through her nose as much as possible. It was like he was attempting to swallow her entire face. "Need... some help?"

He shook his head and smiled at her. She tried to smile back genuinely, but that was hard. The "date" wasn't exactly a date. More like a make out session for amateurs in training. But when she thought about it for a second while he was moving down to her neck, what else did she expect?

"Can we slow down a little bit?"

No reaction. Not even an acknowledgement that she had spoken. Only moans and grunts and his hands on the back of her bra.

Needless to say not being listened to was one of her biggest pet peeves.

When he went for her jean zipper with his now present right hand, she quickly pushed it away. "What are you doing?"

He gave her a confused look and Rebecca slid over to the other side of the backseat to catch her breath.

"What's the problem?" Greenberg reached for her and his mouth collided with hers for the 10,000th time that evening.

Hands against his chest, "My problem is I'm not going to have sex with you in the back of your crappy used Honda in the middle of the woods." Then he stroked her cheek with a smile and she grabbed his wrist. "Touch me again and Greenberg Jr. will be in the obituaries by morning. But don't worry, I'm sure no one will miss him but you."

He just stared back at her in shock. Opting to not spend another second with this idiot, Rebecca rolled her eyes, finished buttoning her top, and got out of the backseat. She actually missed the boys she used to sneak into her room at boarding school in that moment. "Do me a huge fucking favor and never call me, okay?"

She slammed the door and checked her hair in the side mirror. It was messy, her makeup was smudged, and the asshole gave her a bright red hickey that a turtleneck couldn't hide. Greenberg was over... done... never again. Jackson was a genius as far as she was concerned.

Something snapped behind her and she whipped around to find two dark figures reaching the top of the hill. A flashlight crossed her face and then stopped on her.

Stiles looked from his half naked sister to the eerily familiar car she was standing beside. He moved the light to the plate. GBerg69. He wanted to throw up, but asked a question instead. "Aren't you supposed to be-"

"Home sleeping. I know. I went out." She answered, making sure she was covered up completely when she noticed Scott was also there. "Hey, Scott."

"Becs." He wheezed and took a few puffs from his inhaler.

Stiles shined the light in the backseat window and Rebecca pushed it in the other direction.

"You're back home for two months and already ruining my life! I can't believe you... came out here... with him. He's a teammate." Stiles reminded her.

Rebecca laughed a little, hands on her hips. "Barely. Finstock finally let you leave the bench and no one told me?"

"But Greenberg?! He's a neanderthal without one original thought in his very small head, violent also, and while we're on the subject possibly a sexual deviant. He flashed the-"

"Middle schoolers at the mall last Christmas. Lydia told me."

Scott looked at her, surprised. "Lydia Martin?"

"Yeah." Rebecca answered and rubbed at the hickey on her neck a little.

Stiles' life was a cruel joke. He'd been trying to make Lydia notice him since the third grade and the beautiful strawberry blonde still didn't know he was alive. His sister had been back in town for nine weeks and they were best friends. "How do you- you know what? I don't care. I don't want to know, so I won't ask, won't go there."

Then Stiles caught something from the car's tail lights. He cocked his head to the side and shined the light on Rebecca's neck. She quickly shoved it out of the way again. "What is it with you and putting that thing in my face?"

Stiles exhaled deeply and moved closer to get a better look. Scott moved closer too and made a face at the red circle. "God, does it hurt? Looks like he took a chunk out of like 10 layers of skin."

"He probably did. And I'm fine." Rebecca seethed, trying to speak loudly enough for Greenberg to hear.

Stiles walked towards the car, ignoring Rebecca when she tried to pull on his sleeve in protest. Defending his sister's honor wasn't how he wanted to spend his Sunday night. All he wanted was to find a body with his friend and possibly be the town hero. Was that so hard to understand?

It always ended up like this with Rebecca. Trouble followed her.

Stiles leaned over and knocked on the glass. Greenberg is ducked down in embarrassment, still in the backseat. "Dude, I see you. It's so obviously a black blob of you. This is totally not okay by any stretch of the imagination. I mean, you bring my fifteen year old sister out here for sex in the middle of the freakin' woods-"

"Stiles!" Rebecca shouted. Why was this happening to her? Fucking Lydia.

"Open the door, man. Did you even bring condoms?" Stiles pulled at the locked door handle.

"Stiles! You couldn't kick your own ass let alone his what are you doing?" She tugged at the sleeve of Scott's red hoodie with pleading eyes. "Talk to your friend."

"Stiles, come on. We still have to find half the body remember?"

"As in half of a dead body?" Scott nodded at her. "And I'm the one who's troubled. Right."

Greenberg quickly climbed into the front seat and started up the ignition. Stiles knocked on the window again. "Dude, tomorrow's a new day and when we see each other in the halls at school or at practice it's gonna be hella awkward."

The kid wasn't even turning his head.

"You're really not gonna talk to me... or answer the perfectly reasonable question regarding safe sex... or look at me?" Stiles asked the glass.

And then the Honda raced off. Rebecca and Stiles glared at each other as Scott looked on awkwardly. "We should go."

A loud dog bark made Rebecca gasp and move back. Stiles tripped and fell and Scott ran off to hide.

"Hold it right there!"

"Hang on, hang on. This little delinquent-" When the Sheriff saw his daughter he corrected himself. "Excuse me, delinquents belong to me."

Rebecca gave him a very large, overly sweet smile. "Hi, Daddy. You're working late."

"Dad, how're you doing?" Stiles asked rubbing the back of his head. Rebecca walked over to stand beside him.

"Do you listen in on all my phone calls?"

"No. Not the boring ones."

Rebecca snorted out a laugh. "I'd say they're all pretty boring." Sheriff gives her a look and a once over while he's at it. Yeah, she was dead.

After Stiles lied about Scott not being there with them, their father lead them both back to the cruiser. He leaned down to whisper in his daughter's ear. "We need to have a chat about whatever that thing is on your neck."

"Oh, it's just a- I was using the curling iron earlier"

"I may be ancient, but I still know what a hickey looks like."

"Idiot." Stiles mumbled. Rebecca shoved him. "Ow."

"Weirdo body snatcher."