Welcome Back/Chapter



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Naomi was tired. Naomi was beyond tired. At this point—2:00 in the morning—she just wanted to go to sleep. She wanted to go to sleep. She wanted to crawl underneath her warm covers, rest her head against her large, soft pillows and nod off until morning. But she couldn't. Why? Because she had five more pages of Of Mice and Men to read for English and twenty-two more questions to answer; an assignment she should have done in the beginning of the summer, but didn't because she was a massive procrastinator.

Naomi hadn't even wanted to transfer to Beacon Hills High. Naomi wanted to stay enrolled in Boca Prep for the rest of her high school career. Boca Raton, Florida was where her friends were; Where her life was. But, of course, she couldn't stay there alone—she was only 17—and, with her mother's new job offer in Beacon Hills, the family had to relocate to California. Although, it wasn't like this was her first time living in Beacon Hills; Naomi practically grew up in the Stilinski home before the move. She and Stiles had been close; So close that they had both cried in each other's arms before Naomi was taken from him and seated in the backseat of a large truck. She could still remember turning around in the backseat and watching him at the truck pulled off and drove down the street, tears falling as he waved goodbye.

A shrill ding pulled for Naomi out of her reverie. It took her a second to realize the noise came from her computer. A small window popped up on the screen and Naomi quickly maximized it. It was an email from Stiles:

''Hey, Naomi! What's up? Have I mentioned just how glad I am that you're back? Or how great you look—God, these past five years have been really kind to you. Okay, I know, "Flattery will get me nowhere." So here's the deal: Scott and I really need to talk to you, it's extremely important. We have a problem and we think you might be able to help us with it...we hope. Have I mentioned how pretty you are? Okay, I'll stop now. See you at school.''

The message ended and Naomi shook her head. It was just like Stiles to resort to flattery when he had a problem; and he always had a problem. Before she left, Naomi had always helped him with issues—bullying, girls, homework...girls. Nonetheless, she loved them both dearly. And sadly...She'd do anything for those tools. Closing out of the window, Naomi went back to her homework.

Three hours later, Naomi crawled on top of her bed, not bothering to pull back covers. Finally, she thought as she closed her eyes. Sleep. But just when it seemed that Naomi would get a chance to close her eyes and drift off—beep, beep, beep. Naomi's alarm went off. Peeking out of one eye, she checked the time; ''7:30 in the morning. No way'', she thought. I am not leaving this bed.

10 minutes later, she was fully dressed—black jeans, white tank top, cropped black leather jacket, light gray scarf wrapped around her neck, and black lace up boots; with her makeup done— And all-natural look that suited her perfectly–and her hair perfected, her blonde curls cascading over her shoulders carefully. With that, she made her way downstairs.

Naomi greeted her parents in the kitchen before grabbing an apple from the fridge, taking a bite and tossing the apple in the trash. "No time," she interjected before her parents opened their mouths to chastise her. "I'm going to be late for school!" With that, she ran out the door. Naomi waved at Mr. Parks, her family's elderly next-door neighbor, before hopping into her black 2013 Dodge Dart and driving off.

Naomi parked in the first spot she saw as she pulled into the student parking lot of Beacon Hills high school. As she got out of the car, she saw a silver Porsche pull into the spot next to her. Seconds later, the car door flew open and a tall blond guy stepped out. It only took Naomi a few seconds to realize that this guy marching toward her was none other than her jackass of an ex. It had been years since she'd seen Jackson and, although the years had changed Naomi, he seemed to have stayed the same; he was still a cocky bastard. And even worse, he was still the same angry person he'd been when he was 12.

"Is there a problem?" Naomi asked him in pseudo-innocence.

"Damn right there's a problem!" He barked, nostrils cleared, fists at his side. "You parked in my spot." Naomi stared at him incredulously, arms folded across her chest. Raising her eyebrows, she scoffed and looked at the spot where her car was parked before getting down on her hands and knees and examining it. Jackson only stared at her in confusion. "What are you doing?" He finally asked, his face contorted in bewilderment.

"I'm checking this spot for your name, Jackson." Naomi replied, getting up and brushing off the knees of her jeans.

Jackson opened his mouth to speak until he heard her say his name. He looked at her once more with questions in his eyes. "How did you–" then recognition and a devilish grin appeared on his face as he spoke. "Naomi Young." His head cocked to one side slightly. "When did you get back?"

Naomi shifted her weight to one leg. "I've been back for a week." She stated, crossing her arms across her chest.

Jackson looked her up and down, a lion sizing up its prey. "Well...five years have certainly done wonders for you. I mean, you were hot before, but now..." He let out a low whistle. His eyes lingered on the curve of her hips–made blatantly obvious by the clothes–before reluctantly flashing up to her blue-gray eyes. Naomi answered his smirk with a glare. "Okay," he said after a long stare-off. "I'll let you park here today–only because it's your first offense."

Naomi rolled her eyes. "Oh, what a gentleman," she said sarcastically, feigning adoration.

"I know," he said with a short chuckle, hints of a smile playing on his smug face. He took a step closer to Naomi. "But tomorrow," he leaned in close, his mouth to her ear. "I want my spot back." Pulling away, he winked at her and walked into the building.

As she followed Jackson into the building, Naomi couldn't help but think, Damn, he smells good.