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CHAPTER TWO: Silver Linings

Sage Connelly sat at the top of the bleachers, hands stuffed into her leather jacket as she watched the lacrosse players line up on the field. Derek told her to stay after school for the practice to spy on Scott McCall again, mostly due to the fact that he was: one, already nearing the brink of being a possible stalker, and, two, because he was no longer a teenager and it wasn't socially acceptable for him to just show up to their school and watch a sixteen-year-old boy. She didn't not want to go, but ignoring the constant looks from Stiles and Scott was already hard enough without showing up to their practice.

"One-on-one! Jackson, take a long stick today!" Coach shouted, the vein in his neck sticking out as he whipped his hands around. Jackson nodded without a protest, switching his lacrosse stick out for a longer one, running onto the field. "Atta boy!"

She couldn't help but smile while watching Coach run down the sideline, yelling at Greenberg every other second due to the long-lasted dislike everyone had for the boy. Coach rarely liked people, and when he did, he usually didn't show it. Sage remember Greenberg from second grade, back when he was in the fourth; he believed that dumping a puddle of glue into her hair would miraculously make her fall in love with him. It hadn't worked in his case, though, and he went home telling his mom that he got beat up by a seven-year-old girl with pigtails and pink ribbons in her hair. That was one of her prouder moments in life.

She blamed her aggressive side on Derek and Luke, only because she had never really been exposed to anything else. Every time they went over to the Hale house, she was always the one willing to play with the boys opposed to sitting and watching alongside Cora and Laura. Her mother hated it, especially when she would see her and notice all of the mud stains and scratches that were forming on her arms, but there was nothing she could say or do. Mallory knew that Luke would never allow his sister to get hurt, so she reluctantly let her daughter roughhouse with the boys.

Sage's train of thought returned back to her surroundings when she noticed that it was Scott's turn to make a break past Jackson, repetitively biting down on her lip as she slowly eased up from leaning on the back of the bleachers. She would be lying if she said she wasn't concerned for him. He seemed off ever since he showed up for school that morning, and she had an idea that it was because of what happened during the full moon.

After Derek came home fuming Friday night, he stormed into her room snarling about the hunters being back in town and how one of them almost got a hold of Scott. Argents. She had been wrong about Allison's family. Despite the horrible timing, Sage hesitantly revealed to him her own news that Stiles and Scott both believed he was the one who murdered Laura, just as they believed he was the alpha. Needless to say, Derek wasn't pleased to be an alleged killer and she spent the rest of her night cleaning up everything that he broke to pieces.

She cringed when she heard the impact of the two boys, Scott falling down on his back with a grunt while Jackson stood triumphantly. The fact that he finally beat Scott at something boosted his ego, especially considering his name was beginning to fall short next to Scott's recently. Then, she got the tense feeling that someone was staring at her. Sage glanced back into the forest behind her to see that Derek was walking forward. She rolled her eyes, annoyed that he didn't even trust her enough to watch over Scott alone.

Coach bent down next to Scott, and Sage could barely make out any words exchanged between them from her position on the stands. She could see by their facial expressions alone that Coach wasn't pleased about his new star player's performance. He was probably easing him into the harsh reality that if he didn't get his act together, he would be stuck on the bench again with his best friend. Spitting words from Coach Finstock didn't work well in a conversation with a tempered werewolf, and Scott's lip curled back in frustration.

A few seconds later, the man shot his head up with a grin. "McCall's going to do it again!"

Sage glanced over at Derek, who had finally made his way to her side of the bleachers. He glanced up as well, a hard look on his face that clearly stated the two of them had the same thought in their mind: if Coach truly did piss off Scott, the same Scott that was bitten by a werewolf not long ago and didn't know how to control his instincts, then they were going to be carrying more than just a canine off the field — they would be carrying body parts of human beings. The number '24' out on the field, Stiles, looked just as tense about the upcoming event about to take place.

When Scott ran head-on at Jackson, it was obvious that Jackson was going to take a hit. Just as the gear and helmets landed a sickening crunch with one another, Sage was letting out a small hiss at the sound. No, that was most definitely not fine. Instinctively, she moved to jump off the short drop from the top of bleachers to the ground, ready to split herself in two and be there for Scott and Jackson at the same time. Derek was next to her in seconds, his hand on her shoulder tightly. Much like her, his eyes stayed on Scott's distressed state and the players surrounding Jackson on the field.

With a clenched jaw, he finally met eyes with her. "Don't get involved, Sage."

"You are the one who told me to make a good impression," she said, staring at him pointedly. "And since you won't explain anything to Scott, one of us has to be there for him and for the people he hurts, too."

"That isn't your job."

"Isn't it?" she retorted, raising her brows as she slowly slid out of his hold. "I'm the babysitter, remember? Let me go babysit. In the meantime, you need to talk to Scott. Screw the alpha, Derek. We'll find another way, okay? One that doesn't involve letting him go through this alone. Are you really okay with him accidentally killing someone? His best friend? His girlfriend? Because I'm not."

His mouth pulled down into a deeper frown. "When did you get a moral compass?"

"I guess the same time we lost our sister."

Before Derek could say anything else, she turned on her heel and moved towards the small crowd of the lacrosse team. As she neared closer, she could hear Coach trying to figure out what was going on with his star player. Only when she finally pushed her way through the crowd, sending a glare Greenberg's way, did she see the same thing that everyone else saw. Jackson was on the ground, cowering into himself as he clutched his shoulder in pain. Her eyes widened, darting through the in crowd to see if she could find Scott. In her search, she accidentally met eyes with Finstock instead.

"Connelly! Off my field unless you know how to fix my player!" Coach ordered, his finger jolting out to point at the bleachers.

"He probably has a dislocated shoulder, Coach," she explained, frowning as she kept glancing between the two of them. "He'll need to go to the hospital to get it reset. I can drive his car there if you want to keep practice going. I know the season starts Saturday. You'll need him healed quickly."

Coach looked like he wanted to protest, but his mouth couldn't form any words in disagreement as he gaped at her. Then, he grumbled and whipped his head around. "Mahealani! Help Connelly take him to his car. Get your ass back here right after! The rest of you, take a lap! Actually, take two! And somebody tell me where the hell McCall and Stilinski went!"

Sage paused in her movements to go help Jackson up, her eyes darting across the field once again to see if she could find the two boys. When she came up empty-handed, she turned back in the direction of where she was just sitting and saw Derek still standing there. Frowning, she jerked her head carefully in the hint to tell him to find them. He would have better luck than she would. She waited until he gave a reluctant nod, and she saw him roll his eyes before turning around to go find Scott and Stiles. Now, she just had to hope when he did find them, he would actually step in and do something.

"Sage," Danny called out gruffly. "Little help here?"

She looked back to see that Danny was struggling to pull his best friend off the ground, Jackson wincing and trying to ignore the way that the force tugged on his shoulder. Quickly, she moved to grab the other side where his injured shoulder was. Just by awkward angle and the way that it hung, she could tell that his shoulder would have him off the field for the next few days. Call it a Connelly intuition. After a couple of seconds, she and Danny were finally able to pull him up off the ground so that he could stand on his two feet (no thanks to him). Jackson grumbled under his breath, and she could have sworn she heard her name in there somewhere along with some words of profanity, but she chose to ignore it.

"Where are your keys?" she asked him.

"My bag on the bench," Jackson said, his head gesturing towards the direction where most of the players' bags were sitting. "Pocket in the front."

Sage nodded and jogged over to the array of bags, her hands pushing around a few other boys' until she found Jackson's number. She unzipped the front quickly, grabbing the keys and hiking the bag over her shoulder afterwards. On her way back to them, she just narrowly avoided one of the other players—Isaac Lahey, maybe—as they jogged around her. He shot her a brief look, brows furrowed in confusion, before he continued his run. Danny helped Jackson to the parking lot, Sage a bit ahead of them as she ignored the mutter of conversations happening between the two boys on the way there.

When they finally got the grey Porsche, Sage couldn't help but scoff when she saw his front license plate. JCKSN37 was the first thing she noticed. "Jackson Thirty-Seven? Couldn't be a bit more of a pompous asshole if you tried, huh?"

"Stay the hell away from my car, Connelly," Jackson hissed, grinding his teeth together as he glared.

"Fine," she said, raising her hands with the keys wrapped around her finger. Her eyes narrowed on him. "Enjoy that ten mile walk to the hospital, though."

From beside Jackson, Danny started to grin as he glanced between her and Jackson. She returned it with a smile of her own, grateful that Danny was one of the few people in this town who still remained the same after so long. Although she had been surprised to see that he became best friends with Jackson, she supposed that must mean there were some redeemable qualities to the boy if Danny was friends with him.

"Danny can take me. Now give me my keys."

"Ah, actually..." Danny paused, wincing at his best friend. "Coach will have my ass if I miss practice at all this week. He says I need to pick up on goal if I want to stay on first-line this season."

"Wh—no!" Jackson blanched, his eyes darting widely to look back at Sage. A grin was slowly starting to spread on her face as she spun his keys around her index finger, casually. "No! Danny! She used to glue my feet to the ground in class! She chased me around with scissors."

Sage rolled her eyes. "They were safety scissors. Stop being a baby and get in the car."

Before he could protest, she turned to unlock the Porsche. Jackson let out another string of insults before he was being tugged by Danny in the direction of the passenger seat. She kept grinning as she moved to sit in the driver's seat, leaning over the console to push open the door for them. Jackson looked like he was giving Danny a few parting words before he groaned and fell into the seat, his eyes glaring holes into his dashboard. Sage leaned over him to give Danny a wave goodbye.

"Be careful," Danny said, kindly as he smiled at her.

"See," Jackson urged, pointing with his good arm. "Do you even have your license?"

Sage scowled his way. "Yes, you idiot."

"And my 'be careful' was meant so she wouldn't go to jail for killing you," Danny explained, giving Jackson a knowing look. "Don't be an ass. If she leaves you in the middle of the woods, it'll be a while before I find you. I have a date tonight."

Jackson scoffed, curling his hand back around his shoulder. "Nice to know my importance in your life."

Danny shrugged and pulled back, moving to close to the door so that they could leave. Sage waited until he was walking back to the field before she put the keys in the ignition and started it, ignoring the cautious and spiteful looks that Jackson kept directing her way. Once she was successfully out of the parking lot and on the road to the hospital, the silence settled in. Every so often, Jackson would give an exaggerated groan and she would resist the urge to shove his shoulder harder. However, she was (moderately) nice person with a (dented) moral compass, and she was still holding onto the hope that Jackson had changed. Even the slightest. Gained one moral or nicety in life. Just one. So far her hopes were in vain.

After a few miles, he finally turned to her with narrowed eyes. "Why are you even helping me? We hated each other when we were younger."

"You pissed me off a lot when we were younger," Sage replied casually, keeping her eyes on the road. "Still do. Doesn't mean I'm not going to be a good person and help you out...plus I just wanted to drive your car. It's really a disappointment, though. My friend's Camaro is a lot nicer."

"My Porsche is probably worth three times your friend's dingy Camaro," he jeered, leaning his head against the window.

"Why does that matter?"

Jackson snorted. "If you were rich, you'd know."

"Who said I wasn't?" she asked with raised eyebrows, turning to look at him. "My dad was a doctor, remember? General surgery. Mom was an attorney for the Hale's estate. Orphan inheritance is a funny thing, Whittemore. Money matters, sure, but not when it comes to the things you've exploited your entire life. Fancy cars, expensive clothes...there's a lot more you could be doing with that money, you know."

"Whatever."

Jackson said nothing more. Sage kept quiet too, tightening her grip on the steering wheel to keep her irritation under control. Really, if she thought about it, she could have ended up just the same as Jackson. Her parents never spoiled her the way that Jackson's parents did, but she still wore fancy dresses every day and her brother always got the best lacrosse gear. After their deaths and being raised by Derek and Laura, the materialism of things became unimportant. They made sure of that. That showed in the fact that she wore the same leather jacket nearly every day, and Derek still refused to let her buy a new car. The Connelly's were wealthy, but the difference was that Sage would rather have them back—have her family back—than all of the money that they left behind. It meant little in comparison.

"I know what it's like, you know?"

Sage looked at him in confusion. "What?"

"Not having parents. I know what it's like," he explained, pausing for a second as he adjusted his shoulder. "I mean. I have my adoptive parents, but I never knew my biological ones. It isn't the same. Sometimes...I don't know. I guess it just feels like I've been living with these strangers my entire life, and I shared these memories with people that should have just been random faces in a store or movie theater. Not my parents."

Sage quieted as she thought, pursing her lips as she processed what Jackson just told her. "I think it would be easier that way."

"What?" he asked, turning to her with disbelief.

"I just mean, in a way, you're lucky. Having memories with them makes it harder because you just think of everything you shouldn't have said and everything you never did. I would never give up those moments...but I also think it would be easier to move on if I never had any of them at all," she explained, surprising herself at the honesty. "But I guess neither one of them is easy. You're going to miss them either way."

"Can you even miss someone you never knew?"

"I think so," she nodded. "You can miss the idea, you know? The possibilities, I guess."

Jackson frowned, fiddling with his lacrosse shorts. "Yeah. I guess."

They didn't say anything else after that. The conversation itself was stepping out of boundaries for them. The last person in the world that she ever thought she would be talking so deeply with was Jackson Whittemore. Even more so, the fact that they were able to talk without fighting. God forbid, Sage and Jackson ever had anything in common. Still, even the smallest sliver of that conversation showed Sage that there might be something more to the Whittemore boy. Both of them were feeling the discomfort at that point, and only when reality came back did they realize that they had pulled into the parking lot of the hospital. She was silent as she helped him out of the car, ignoring the curse of pain that he barked in her ear. Thirty six antagonizing steps led the two teenagers inside of the hospital to the receptionist's desk, where a familiar face appeared.

"Miss McCall?"

Melissa McCall hadn't aged a day in the last six years. Her curly, brown hair was pulled up into a ponytail today, showing her face. When the woman looked up at the sound of her name, Sage couldn't help but ache in her heart. Melissa's eyes softened at the sight of Sage, doing a once-over of the girl. No doubt, she was recognizing how much she had grown from the little girl she was so long ago. Her kind, motherly eyes traveled from Sage over to the arm that she had slung over her shoulder. Instantly, the warmth turned into concern as she quickly rushed her way around the front desk.

"What happened?" she asked, her hands going immediately to where he was clutching his shoulder.

Sage stepped in before Jackson had the chance to say that her son caused the injury. "Lacrosse accident on the field during practice. I think it might be dislocated, but I couldn't really tell."

"All right. Jackson, I need to sign you in and get your parents' contact information. We'll get you set up for an x-ray to make sure that it isn't any more damage, but..." Melissa paused to glance down at his shoulder, pressing slightly down to Jackson's dismay, "...it looks like it's just a dislocation. I can fix it myself and get you started on some steroids for the swelling, but we'll have a doctor look at it just in case. Have a seat."