Howl

Midnight Walk

"Do you think he's still awake?"

Stiles and I both stared at the house. All the lights were off and I half got the feeling that our dear friend has already called it a night, "I don't know, Stiles. I think we should leave Scott out of this. Unlike you, he probably wants a good night's sleep before school tomorrow."

Stiles tilted his head out of his jeep's window, trying to find more clues to see if Scott's still awake, "I hear music. Maybe that's why he's not returning my calls."

"Or he's sleeping." I pressed and my voice went a pitch lower, "As I should also be!"

My brother pursed his lips, huffed and pulled out his phone. He dialed a number that I recognized as Scott's and put the phone on speaker.

It rang... and rang... and rang.

No answer.

He sighed dramatically and stuffed the phone in his pocket, "That's it, I'm going to get him."

Before I could stop him, he opened the door of the jeep and stomped across the yard towards the house, "Stiles, no! Wait..."

Maybe I should've followed him just to grab him by the ear and drag him back to the vehicle, but upon seeing my dorky brother maneuvering around trees and bushes like some sort of undercover secret agent, amused me too much. In my opinion, it seemed more silly than impressive.

Stiles' footsteps made several twigs snap and he nearly tripped and fell over his own feet on the way. He was as elegant as an elephant on ice. How were we even related? Honestly, I could get away with robbing a bank while he wouldn't even make it out of the store after shoplifting a soda.

From out of the jeep I watched him climb onto the roof of the house – of course, creating some racket as he did so. If that wasn't enough to wake up dear old' Scott, then I don't know what will.

I rolled my eyes and somehow caught a glimpse of the moon through the window of the passenger seat. No matter how much my dad lectured me about going out after dark, I still felt more alive at night than any time of day. Especially when it's a beautiful night like this. Something about the moon always fascinated me; how it was always there, even when you couldn't see it. There's actually a word for it.

'Selenophilia'. Loving the moon and finding it soothingly captivating.

And even tonight, as I was forced by my dorky brother to sneak out to our best friend's house, I would look up at the sky and marvel at how the moon was just... there. It was permanent. Forever.

My thoughts were disturbed when a light flickered on in the house and the front door opened. A very tense and frightened Scott tiptoed his way out on the porch, baseball bat clutched firmly in his hands as he looked around nervously. Stiles parked the jeep behind a tree, so I was luckily out of sight.

All of a sudden Stiles dropped down from the roof, dangling upside down by his legs. Scott screamed and so did Stiles, both scaring the other without meaning to. I snorted. Scott's voice went about ten pitches higher, while my brother's yelling sounded more like 'bow wow wow' (a husky puppy howl in other words).

Idiots.

Casually, I hopped out of the jeep and advanced towards the two boys, both pale and jittery. If Scott ever thought about getting a good night's sleep for school tomorrow before, he might as well kiss that plan goodbye. Not only was he scared awake now, but he also wouldn't sleep after what Stiles had planned for him that night.

"Stiles, what the hell are you doing?!" He almost squeaked.

"You weren't answering your phone!" Stiles held his hands up in defense and looked at the bat freakishly, "Why do you have a bat?!"