Trevor was just finishing getting ready when he heard a knock at the door, so he hurried to answer it and found Allison standing on the porch.
"Hey, good morning. Ready?"
"Morning. Perfect timing—I'm ready."
"Great. Let's go. It's a full day. We're starting with chemistry."
A few minutes later, Trevor was sitting in the passenger seat of Allison's car as they drove comfortably through town while a pop song played on the radio — he had no idea what it was called, but it was the kind of melody that stuck in your head whether you liked it or not.
"When we get there, I'll introduce you to my friends," Allison said, continuing, "There's Lydia — she was my first friend here. Jackson, her boyfriend and captain of the lacrosse team. Scott, who's really nice and kind of dorky… he's on the team too."
Trevor frowned slightly and asked, "Lacrosse?" and Allison laughed before answering, "I thought it was weird too when I first got here. But it's basically the official sport of this town."
"How curious…" Trevor murmured, and Allison added, "It sounds strange, but it's fun. Maybe you should try out for the team." Trevor gave her a doubtful look and replied, "We'll see."
Before they realized it, they had arrived at school, and the moment Trevor stepped out of the car, he noticed something unusual — students were whispering, forming tight groups, and there was tension in the air, though he couldn't quite tell why, so he simply followed Allison inside.
"Welcome to Beacon Hills High," she announced dramatically, and at that exact moment, someone bumped into her from behind.
Trevor felt something vibrate inside his backpack — the Vampire Killer had reacted — and when the boy turned around, Trevor recognized him instantly: Scott.
Allison placed a hand over her chest and said, "You almost gave me a heart attack!" and Scott asked, concerned, "Are you okay?"
"I'm fine. I recover fast. Oh — Scott, this is Trevor."
Trevor caught the cue and extended his hand, saying, "Nice to meet you, Scott. Trevor Belmont. Allison's said nothing but good things about you." For a brief second, Scott seemed to really look at him, suspicion flickering in his eyes — maybe jealousy — but still, he shook Trevor's hand.
"Scott McCall. Nice to meet you."
Before the conversation could continue, the loudspeaker crackled through the hallway: "Attention, students. This is the principal. I know you're all wondering about yesterday's incident involving one of the school buses. While the police continue their investigation, classes will proceed as normal." The pieces clicked into place in Trevor's mind — that explained the tension — and he knew he was in Season One, though he just hadn't been sure exactly where; now he had a reference point.
Before he knew it, he was sitting in chemistry class when the teacher announced, "Class, as you may have noticed, we have a new student joining us from Romania. Mr. Belmont, would you like to introduce yourself?" This was the part Trevor hated most, but he stood up and said, "Hi. I'm Trevor Belmont. I wasn't born in Romania — I just lived there for a few years. I hope we can get to know each other… maybe even be friends." A few quiet chuckles spread across the room, and he sat back down at his lab table — alone, but not for long, because after assigning the activity, the teacher grew visibly annoyed with Scott and the boy next to him — who Trevor immediately recognized as Stiles — whispering far too loudly. "Stilinski. Move over there," the teacher ordered, and Stiles dropped into the seat beside Trevor.
"Well, well. The new guy."
"In the flesh."
"Stiles. So, Romania, huh?"
"Lived with my grandfather for a few years. Decided to come back."
"So you're from here?"
"Not exactly. But I figured this town would be quiet."
Stiles let out a humorless laugh and said, "Yeah. About that…" but before they could continue, a girl near the window suddenly said, "Hey… I think they found something," and everyone rushed to the window. Trevor couldn't hear clearly, but he caught fragments of Scott and Stiles' conversation — "I did that, Stiles…" — and he kept his expression neutral because even though he didn't remember every detail, he knew Scott wasn't responsible. After a few minutes, everyone returned to their seats and class resumed, and while Stiles still answered Trevor's questions, it was obvious his mind was elsewhere until finally the bell rang.
Trevor had agreed to have lunch with Allison and her friends, so in the cafeteria, tray in hand, he scanned the room until Allison raised her hand to wave him over, and as he approached, he noticed an empty seat beside Stiles and took it.
"Guys, this is Trevor — the one I told you about," Allison said, and a red-haired girl looked him up and down with a calculated half-smile before saying, "Lydia. Nice to meet you."
The boy beside her spoke bluntly: "Jackson. You train?"
"Yeah. Since I was a kid."
Another boy smiled and said, "Danny. Nice to meet you. You should come to lacrosse practice," and Trevor admitted, "I've never played," but Danny shrugged and replied, "There's always a first time."
The conversation shifted when Danny added, "I heard it was an animal attack," and Scott and Stiles exchanged a glance before Danny continued, "Maybe a cougar," with Jackson adding, "Or a mountain lion," only for Lydia to correct them coolly: "A cougar is a mountain lion," making everyone look at her.
Suddenly, Stiles leaned over the table, excited, and announced, "Guys, I figured it out!" He showed a video on his phone — footage of the bus, the rear door crushed inward, blood smeared across the metal — and Trevor watched in silence, noting that the show had definitely toned that down.
The rest of the day passed quickly as Allison, Scott, Lydia, and Jackson made plans for a double date, and Trevor simply observed, still positioning himself on the board, until by late afternoon Allison dropped him off at home, where he spent the remainder of the day studying and playing on his computer, finally falling into a deep sleep.
But that night, in the woods not far from his house, a pair of red eyes glowed in the darkness, watching his window.