Scott + Jackson
It was never a question of whether or not Jackson would attend the bonfire. Since his freshman year of high school, he had always made an appearance, butted heads with the captains of the other team, and held his own for the sake of Beacon Hills. Jackson might not really have any deep feelings for his hometown and had fully intended to get as far away from it as possible as soon as he could, but he took his position in the school as seriously as one could get and that meant showing up here. Sometimes he even had a good time, but that wasn't really his focus. As the captain of the lacrosse team and as one of the most (if not the most) popular students in the school, it would say a lot if he wasn't there.
Despite all that, there was a lot more on his mind and he had found his attention drifting often on his drive to where the bonfire was being held this year. Thoughts of his future kept coming back and trying to drown him in uncertainty, but now his already numerous problems were compounded by his new status as a werewolf. On top of that, his alpha was currently preoccupied, not that Jackson could really blame him. Jackson might pretend to be a completely heartless asshole, but it hadn't taken long for him to hear about what happened to the Hale house, how all of them had died so horrifically and suddenly. That didn't stop Jackson's selfishness from gripping him out of fear. If Derek disappeared, what would happen to him? Could the hunters come after him, after all of them? They were very real fears.
But Jackson was putting his car into park and shrugging on his jacket and stepping out into the smoke-filled clearing. The scent of burning wood had a distinctly acrid yet fragrant smell, not that he could really place the type of wood since he wasn't ever good at that kind of thing. Glancing around, Jackson was still trying to get used to how well he could see, even in the semi-darkness where the light of the fire didn't quite reach. Most of the people already here were from the other school but he did locate a familiar face. Not his favorite face, but there were still questions that needed to be settled.
"McCall," Jackson stated as he walked up on the other teen, dropping his hand almost forcefully onto his shoulder.