"Whoa!"
My hand snapped outward to lock my phone, effectively turning off my alarm off before emerging from under my cocoon of pillows and blankets. After taking a minute to shake myself awake, I looked at the clock on my wall with a frown. It was too early for school, and I spent most of the night getting my homework done, having only gone to sleep a few hours ago.
My immediate reaction was to check the wall that joined me to my mother's room. She had been working the graveyard shift at Eichen ever since her promotion, and I knew she had come in a little after I went to bed, so her sleep was important. After realizing that I hadn't disturbed her with the thin walls of the house, I thought back to why I would be up at this hour. Then it hit me; Scott had called in last minute to see if I could cover for him yesterday. I don't typically work sunday mornings, so I guess I forgot to reset my alarm for school. Glancing next to my bed, I looked at an old photo with a frown. I was perched upon Dad's shoulders and my brother was helping his best friend carry the boy from my dream up as we all grinned cheekily towards Mr. Lahey.
Finally getting my feet free, I worked at making my bed, the memory from long ago, and of a time when my family was whole. Hell of a time when we still even talked to the Lahey family, but it was one of the few pictures of my dad that I was able to save from my mother's purge after the divorce. I shook my head, moving to gather my outfit for the day, so that I could take a shower. Being the first one up had its benefits in the small 3 bedroom home. And I was going to make sure to waste non of the precious little time I might get. I did pause at the mirror over the sink for a minute though, touching my face and combing at my sleep-knotted hair in confusion. Where did all of those strange features come from in my dream? I mean, I wasn't saying I looked terrible, I just wasn't one to put a lot of effort into my appearance, and I looked radiant in the dream. Part of the reason I was questioning it.
Okay, all of it had me questioning it, really. Isaac Lahey and I didn't exactly talk let alone make any sort of physical contact or banter. I stuck to my books and my friends named mostly in curtesy, and he stuck to lacrosse and himself. I mean, we have cross country in the spring together, as well as four classes, but other than that the similarities ended. I mean, yeah, we knew each other as kids, but it had been years since that time. Now, we both stood in different outcast circles. He probably doesn't really know I exist outside of a familiar face among the other students. Sure, we'd make accidental eye contact as is typical with anyone in a school day, but nothing to warrant the dream. Though I was up late studying for one of the classes he sat behind me in, maybe that's what set it off.
"You really need to stop popping Adderall during your late night turned morning study sessions, Steph" I muttered, turning away from my reflections both internal and external. "Always makes your dreams go wonky."
Let me take a moment to clarify that I do suffer from ADHD. The script itself is very real, since I always seem to be concentrating on other people and hyper aware of other people's situations instead of studying and paying attention in school. I just have been known to take a bunch at once, which isn't exactly what the directions dictate on the bottle. I've also been known to skip out on days so that when there are weeks like this one, where I need a cram session where Energy drinks won't suffice, I can take a couple extra to keep me going. So, it auto-refills on a controlled cycle, and no one is aware of my less than sanctioned practices. I swear I'm not an addict, or junkie, I just use the side effects to my benefit upon occasion with the schedule I keep. If anything, it's Danny's fault for telling me that his classmates at school do it all the time to get their homework done at the last possible minute so they could enjoy college life and maintain their grades.
That aside, I finally shower, fully walking my body up as the slight cold of night sweats tolled off me. Given that it was a Monday, I had gone with comfortable but cute when picking my outfit. After I'd washed, I placed on a simple knitted sweater with jeans and tall boots. It was trendy under prying eyes for the week, while having the freedom to accessorize, and maybe even avoid having my sense of fashion criticized in the eyes of It Girl Lydia Martin. I blow dried my hair, combing in some mousse to keep my hair pin straight today. Inspecting my face, I looked around my trouble spots. Making a more critical than usual tsk, I dabbed on strategic blots of concealer to hide the bags under my eyes and other blemishes.
I left the bathroom, glad to not have woken mom with my shower, and preparing for my brother's typical, if usually turned down, offer to give me a ride to school on his way to his morning class. I tended to bike since we weren't that far away, and the few times that Dan wasn't really awake, had me terrified to be in that truck before noon. The bike was also a gift from my dad and one of the few things I have left of him. Not that he's dead or anything, just you know, Mom took cutady and he shortly went away to some classified job he can't tell us about.
How I longed for it to be the other way around. Dad always understood me better than Mom did. There was also the fact that MOM was the one that cheated on Dad. And it was MOM who tried to force Danny to try and still be friends with his childhood friend, Camden, as well as my dad to apologize for Decking Mr. Lahey and threatening to report him for child abuse. Yeah, things with the Laheys are complicated, but Isaacs mom was my mom's best friend, along with Claudia Stilinski, which is also complicated. So yeah, there is a lot of resentment for my Mother who I never see, and had several torrid affairs with Pilates instructors while my Dad did everything he could to give us a good childhood while making the money for the house.
This is what makes my teenage life, suck slightly more than average. Between taking mostly junior classes as a sophomore, pulling two jobs, and helping Danny keep the house from burning down, there was barely space in my head as it is. Add the overbearing hatred for my mother, the constant distractions on worrying about everyone over myself, and well, yeah, I got a pretty freaking full plate. Yeah, the kid whose attention deficits is taking a bunch of classes above her age grade level, what a wonderful idea right? Wrong.
It didn't help that Danny, was the golden boy of the family. Mom always loved her Daniel and his achievements. He was able to maintain a near 4.0 average while excelling in Swim and Lacrosse in high school, he even worked as a recreation coach over the summers. All of this got him a full ride to basically everywhere he would want to go, but instead, he's taking classes at the closest community college possible to help me and Mom with the house. Super hard to hate the guy when he is basically all the family I have left. Dad will call every now and again, but it's not very often, and mom knew my stance on the divorce, so we weren't exactly copasetic.
But we all purservered, and stuck it out. We all put money towards the house, as well as made a silent pact to take care of ourselves, and occasionally be in charge of buying the groceries. I biked everywhere, even though Mom has a car she only uses at night, and Danny has his truck, but it was a present that cost Mom several months of carefully scrimped paychecks and promises for me that were never kept. Though we could say that I would be the same.
See, my mom wanted to have the perfect life, and sometimes, would even talk about what that life would have been like. Basically living in some weird hybrid of the Whittemore and Martin homes, but with a daughter that was different than me, and apparently one I used to make up as a kid. Melanie, was my twin that I imagined for years, the perfect mirror to my life. The problem is, I outgrew Melanie: Mom didn't. She became obsessed with this idea, and every time I do something that would make her happy she tells me it's what "Mel would do."
There are days, I question her working at Eichen and why we weren't paying for her to be a patient at Eichen. However, she's still my mom, and I am 'dependent' on her until I go off to college.
I shuffled into my room, hatting how just a few feet can make me think about so much. Tossing my balled up Pajamas onto the bed, I turned to my desk when I was hit with the overbearing scent of sweat, oily hair, and stale body spray. I wrinkled my nose towards my bed, and brother, whining as he stood up with a dopey smile, my pajamas easily caught in his hand.
"Good Lord Danny!" I gagged dramatically, keeping my distance as I staggered around my room looking for various supplies that had been strewn about in my mania of studying. "I would like to say thank you to people everywhere that I left you hot water."
"Aww Little Miss Distracted Bookworm having a bad morning cuz she was up all night studying?" He teased, ruffling my hair slightly as he pulled me towards him. "I think that means she needs a hug from her favorite big brother."
"You're my only brother." I whined, trying to escape his grasp. "Besides, I don't have to have to be in a bad mood to possess a sense of smell. Did you even bother showering when you got back from practice last night?"
"Considering we went on a snack run right after, and I helped you with Harris's Chem assignment from Hell...No." He let go of me after giving a light chuckle at my ineffective flailing under his muscle. "But I would have done this for years had I known it would bother you this much." He turned towards the bed, grabbing something, "Besides, you left this in the truck."
"First, I have to smell you, and now I have to think about Chemistry and Harris first thing in the morning.Pretty sure I just lost my appetite." I grumbled, taking the book I'd been searching for from his hand. I held my stomach with a slight pout. "I bought danishes last night too, so thanks a lot, bro."
"Anything for you, Kiddo." He called out as I picked up my bag and left the room.
"That was sarcasm, Daniel. Don't make me start holding the sign up again!" I retorted, plugging my nose to make it past his cave of a room. "Or attack your room with some Febreeze, I will break out the girly shit!"
"Stephanie, is that you?" My mom called out from the kitchen as I walked through the living room.
I grimaced, feeling guilty that she was already up. "Yeah, mom...what's going on?"
"Well," she started, pulling her auburn tresses from her face. "I'd thought that with you being up all night that chores were done before, well, whatever it was you were doing. Seems like you had more important things to do."
I frowned, wincing internally. I totally forgot it was my turn to clean the kitchen yesterday "I was studying for a test I have this week, I'm so sorry. I'll take the trash out on my way to school. I was going to try getting in early, so I'll just do the dishes when I get home? I mean that or I'll just make Danny do it?"
"Really, you'll make your older brother do his least favorite chore?" She raised an eyebrow at me skeptically. "I hope you have a damn good pitch that you aren't sharing."
"He stank up my bed." I stated, shrugging slightly. "It's the least he can do after the laundry I'm gonna have to do to clean it out." Not everyone in this family is a self-absorbed twit.
My mom's face shifted, and I briefly was terrified that she'd heard me. Sometimes, I swear she's able to hear my thoughts as if I said them. Eyes had narrowed, paired with a furrowed brow and straight lips. My blunt snark and wit were only appreciated by the men in our family, so I tried to keep it in check for the most part. Especially when I receive looks that could get me grounded. I swallowed slightly, and started to organize the dishes and put away the ones that were in the drying rack. There was a small nod, and a noise that came through the nose in a way that said 'that's what I thought' and she turned back to prepping two coffee mugs. I knew I would have to choke down one-it's one of those Mel things- and bite my bottom lip to hide my own grimace. For the next few minutes as I finished my efforts were quiet save for a few clattering noises metal hitting Corelle, and the ripple of plastic as I changed the trash.
"I'll just take his shift of putting away tonight, and wash tonight's dishes." I offered.
At first I got no response, causing me to clear my throat awkwardly as Dan dragged himself into the room, saving me from the bitter morning drink by grabbing it from the table. My mother, who was externally displaying just how tired I was, raised an eyebrow as if to ask if I wanted a cookie, but smiled widely when she noticed her son next to her. I was given a slight nod from my mom as she faced me to get the cream, and was waved away in an indication that I wasn't needed anymore. So I went outside, put the trash on the curb, and proceeded to bike to school.
There were days that this would bother me, but I was also used to it by now. I had very clearly taken my dad's side in the split, and for a year, I was a terrible preteen. Now, my mom squashes any chance of me 'relapsing'. Taking his side only to be left in the aftermath when he got his new job has that effect. There are days that I like to imagine what it would be like had he taken me with him, but a part of me knew that wasn't ever going to happen. Ironically, he was doing it to make sure that I wouldn't get uprooted from school or not be taken care of. He didn't know his new hours and he couldn't guarantee that I would be well taken care of. So I was left with my mom, who was deemed 'more responsible' in my well-being when really it was more like Danny became my parent. He was twenty-three with a seventeen year old, it really has to be strange for him.
It didn't help that my mother hadn't planned on working again, just sucking off of his job and then child support. This goes back to how she wanted the ideal life. A loving and successful husband, a son who loved her unconditionally, and a single daughter who idolized her all the while being oblivious to her torrid secret life while he was away. The perfect soap opera pantomiming the American dream, aged white picket fence, wine addiction, and all. Too bad they never really show the reality of what happens to the real housewives of Beacon County; it wasn't interesting enough.
I sighed as I found myself at the school, shifting my thoughts (again) toward classes as I struggled through the clogged hallways to get to my locker quickly. I grabbed what I could for the first half of my day, and pushed my way back outside toward the lacrosse field for my free period. Having Dan for an older brother, I liked to view and play the sport. Granted, there was no girls team, and I tended to play in a manner that the word abysmal couldn't even begin to describe, but I still found it fun. I also liked to read or study with the practices in the background. It was a sound that reminded me of better times. It also was where my best, and probably only friend, Libby would be, playing a one person chess match while occasionally glancing off, dreamily towards the lacrosse boys.
I smiled to myself as I found her already there, her bags piled in a way to leave room for me. Most people kinda gave her a wide berth, but the effort always made me feel appreciated. I moved way towards the corner of the bleachers she'd picked out for us, trying my best to ignore the swirl of gossip around me and the various reactions to it. Not that it was particularly easy this week; Allison Argent's aunt (yeah I know, AAA, she's a battery) had her funeral today but was a pariah after being discovered the guilty party of the Hale fire years ago, Lydia Martin was running around lost in the woods-naked for those that were really interested-, and there were even whispers about a second fire at the Hale house the night of the formal. All of this before I had even sat down.
I kept my head down, deciding to cross the sidelines to get to my friend, to avoid the people my mother thought I/Mel should be friends with. I hadn't seen Scott or Stiles today, but, we were acquaintances at best. While Stiles and I shared a lot of classes, exchanged babbled snark, as well as a mutual love for all things geeky, Scott, well Scott suffers from pop culture retardation, but he's a nice guy and we work at the clinic together. As I struggled to remember if I was covering a shift for him this afternoon-an all too frequent occurrence these days- I bumped into a solid form that gave a grunt in response.
"Oh God, I'm such a ditz I should have been watching where I was going!" I exclaimed, straightening my head, and finding I had to tilt my head slightly to meet frenzied blue eyes that avoided my gaze.
"N-no...it's fine, it was my fault..." None other than Isaac Lahey protested, shaking his head slightly as he shifted on his feet. He wasn't changed for practice yet, and looked distracted. "I mean, I could have knocked you over or something."
"Don't let the textbooks fool ya." I joked, pushing aside all thoughts about this morning's dream, and standing to my full height. While he was still taller than me, I took pride in it being only about a head length. "I'm scrappier than I look. Made it through all Danny-Cam team ups for all those years, right?"
I closed my eyes, silently slapping myself in the forehead. Why would you bring that up, ya big dummy! Just because I was feeling sentimental today didn't mean he wanted to talk about his dead brother. I watched a flash fall in front of his eyes, and for a second I thought I was going to be met with a shoulder against mine, looking down in shame. Instead I was met with a small smile, and a laugh from the back of his throat. The look on his face was understanding, and for a second, I was a little kid again, Dad was picking me and Danny up to go home while the whole family was waving us off with smiles. I felt my eyes start to glass over as I thought about my life now.
The problem is, I couldn't tell if I was feeling that, or if I got the feeling from him. I didn't get to dwell on it though, since he actually decided to respond instead of shutting me out.
"I mean, we did have a rough time of it sometimes." He answered awkwardly, fiddling with the strap of his bag. "They were quite the team back then."
"Yeah, yeah they were..." I mused, nodding my head. "Is it weird to say that I kind of miss those days? I mean, we all used to be so close and suddenly out of nowhere we all stopped talking. I mean, I still don't know why Danny and Cam stopped talking. I mean we kinda followed suit too...Don't you think that's weird? And then with my parents divorce, and your mom-"
My mouth snapped shut. Shit...I did the thing again. I winced knowing that I've now brought up two diseased Laheys to the youngest in a span of a minute. I was surprised that he was still standing with me, to be honest. I felt panic rise up from my gut; I'll never found out about that dream now.
"I'm so sorry, it's just that we never talk about it...when and if we talk at all that is."I rambled, "I mean Danny doesn't talk about it, and we don't really talk outside of classes anymore, so...I'm just going to shut up and put down the shovel I'm digging this hole in."
"I-it's fine, really." He stuttered, trying to wave off my panic. "I mean if it helps Cam never talked about it either? And then as you said, things kinda got messy for both our families."
I nodded awkwardly, whatever rapport we had diminished. I found myself watching him as he ran a hand through his hair, ruffling at the top of his head. It was something so familiar that I almost didn't realize why he'd been facing me with his right side. As he relaxed into the silence, he let his guard down. And then I saw it. I saw it and I wanted to kick the crap out of whoever did it. Or at least, I would try. Blue rimmed around his left eye as if he'd been beaten down by someone was a large bruise, and from the way he was shifting his gaze, I could tell he didn't want to talk about it.
"I wasn't trying to cast blame or anything, just kinda had a severe case of word vomit." I joked, changing the subject by motioning at my own face. "Uhm hey, did you forget your mask at a practice last week? Or did someone-"
"O-Oh, I just hit myself with my locker, but I kinda do need to get ready for practice." I watched as he turned away from me again, suddenly hyper aware of our surroundings. "Coach is gonna kill me for being late again."
"Right, right. I guess I'll-" I watched as he rushed off towards the building. "See you in math..."
I shook my head, and continued my journey to my friend. Letting out a sigh, I plopped cold metal with a deflated stance.
"That has got to be the weirdest conversation I've ever had to date, Libs." I groaned, laying my head on the blonde's shoulder.
"Judging by how warm your cheeks feel, I can only imagine." She muttered, in the midsts of a stalemate. "How'd the cram Sesh go?"
"Welp, I got up under five hours after I went to sleep." I responded, pulling the algebraic equations I needed to practice for the test I had tomorrow. "I mean, I had at least one full REM cycle, that's all you need, right?"
"Pretty sure you need more than that, love." She said, her accent always calming me.
The Danielsons had moved to Beacon Hills from England right before seventh grade, so Libby still had an accent, and was constantly getting oogled for it. Then people, realize how much of an 'odd duck' she was, and would veer away. Not me though, it was nice to have someone to share awkward quirks with, someone to tease and get teased back. It started off as us being lab partners, then having nearly every class together. Soon though, it was more effort to not be friends with her. Besides, we were perfect foils in our academics, so it made for great study sessions.
I murmured something about her being right, and went back to my notes, pulling out the cheat sheet she'd made for me. Math was my worst subject, and I had to study my butt off to maintain my grades in it. It didn't help that I was taking chemistry this year, which is a very math-based science. So many formulas had to stay imprinted in my brain along with everything else, that I have flash cards for them in every place imaginable. Distractions weren't welcome, today more than usual with midterms around the corner, but here I was, trying to distinguish Isaac from all the other Meatheads I tutor. I really should have kept my big mouth shut.
The rest of the day went on quickly and without any unusually terrible occurrences. It was Monday, and there were chapter tests this week, so not a lot of teachers allowed for much messing around. I also had to start taking an online class so that I could have a second 'free period' for tutoring. Why they even gave us one was beyond me, but here I was, dual enrolled so I could have mine, and spend an hour and a half of time out of my education to provide a service to the Lacrosse team. Sometimes, it really sucked to be in the top Ten of your class. With Lydia having no desire to let her genius be public record, Meg working as a nanny for her neighbors all the time, and Stiles being the butt of every joke, I was the only one left to take the job aside from Danny (not my brother, but one of the other lacrosse players).
Not that I can complain too much, I get free tickets to any school event on top of getting paid about twenty dollars a session (which I usually got two or three in a day). I worked on a rotating schedule, each player meeting me for at least half an hour every week. Who I taught in extended sessions tended to shift, but it was always the same; too much muscle not enough brain. I even tutored Jackson Whittemore, but the he got a fancy private tutor from his loaded parents. Again, not that I could complain much about that either. He was one of those people that thought he was always right, and therefore, everyone else around him is stupid. No wonder his girlfriend pretends to be a ditz.
I sighed, as I walked to my last class, remembering how Stiles got tossed into me while the co-captain sneered with a sick pride that only bullies would get. My chest bumped into the table, scattering salad all across the area. I remember shaking bits of stray lettuce off and gazing at the opposite side and end of the table, where fellow loner Vernon Boyd sat. We shared a shrug, and went back to our food. It was the typical exchange between us, nonverbal pleasantries or complaints about people at school and then back to our home packed lunches, Libby joining with cafeteria swill soon after. Yeah, today was just a typical day at Beacon High.
That is until I reached my chemistry class. Given that Harris has a proclivity towards making even the best of days dreadful, I was expecting an instant decline. I also had Stiles giving me a lengthy explanation I didn't want to listen to about what happened at lunch to look forward to. I sighed, taking my usual place next to him, finding him and his bestie huddled together and talking. By which I mean, Stiles was practically laying across our desk while Scott sat normally.
I watched them for a second, wondering what they could be talking about. I'd been covering for them a lot lately, at school and work. I didn't really mind, they were my friends, if in the loosest sense of the word. We talked often enough, and we don't avoid interaction with each other, but I still wouldn't say we were all that close. With all of the questionable coverage and homework copying I've been providing, I felt more like a reoccurring side character who was kept around to help with continuity. They didn't fail class, and I got lots of money with the occasional acknowledgement that I was helping. Speaking of...
"You missed your session again, McCall. Coach is gonna have my head if you fail another test." I started making my presence known and causing Stiles to jump back into his seat. "Oh, don't let me interrupt your daily stretches, Stilinski, just don't smack me with a flying limb, and we'll be fine."
"Steph! Hello there, hey, hi." Here we go. I thought as he started his usual ramble of a greeting.
"If you're being repetitive because you're about to apologize for Jackson being...well Jackson, please don't." I rolled my eyes. "I'm already well aware of the high levels of dickwad in his system."
"H-right." Stiles clamped his mouth shut, pointing towards his best friend. "Scott's got a question for you though, so there will be talking involved in today's interaction, just maybe not by me, but by Scott, with his question."
I nodded slowly, turning to face the other boy. He had what I could only explain as his kicked puppy face on. The one where his eyes get just a hint glassy, and his mouth is turned into a frown that's just barely not a pout. It didn't help that he had such floppy hair and big brown eyes. I felt myself wanting to scratch at the back of his head, but remembered that he wasn't an actual puppy, and avoided the request from being made altogether.
"Yes, I'll cover your shift tonight." It was the question, and the answer all the same. I waved my hand up and down at his face. "That's what all this is for, right?"
"I swear this is the last time! It's just that Allison's got this thing and-"
"I thought you guys broke up?" I interrupted, confused. "I didn't even know you were still talking and now you're on the plus one list for family funerals?"
"Well, no...I was just, uh, going as a friend..." He fumbled. "You know not with her or anything."
"That sounds like stalking, Scott." I looked between the two boys. "And I expected more from you, but with your choice in company, I'm also not surprised."
"Hey, what is that supposed to-" Stiles protested, but I held up a hand to shut him up.
"Shut it, Police Scanner, the adults with actual jobs are talking." I didn't even look at him. "As much as I don't condone said perceived stalking, what you do in your free time while I get more money is none of my business. So like I said, yeah, I'll cover you."
"You're the best Steph, I owe you big." He relaxed, seeming to ignore everything else I said. "Really, I do, I'll take some double shifts if I need to."
"Okay, let's not go making promises we can't keep." I laughed, noticing the look on my neighbor's face. "And yes Stiles, I know about your police scanner. No, my mom hasn't told me anything about any naked Jane Does arriving at Eichen, and no I am not going to volunteering my services to look for the aforementioned naked teen, since I have conveniently got plans tonight. Besides, Miss It isn't so in anymore. Everyone knows that she's fallen down the ladder due to Argent."
I watched as he opened his mouth only to shut it again, his jaw swiveling in annoyance. "You gonna predict anything else today, McGrath? I mean you might as well, since you're on such a roll and everything." He always did get made at my inane ability to know where his curiousity was taking him. "Or you like the sound of your own voice, I can't quite tell today."
"That is mean and hurtful, but as a matter of fact, I think I will make another prediction." I eyed our teacher as he prepared his notes before the bell. "I bet you five bucks that Harris is going to say something that would normally be considered verbal abuse and have him fired, but it's Beacon Hills and he has tenure."
"You know despite how specific you got about what he could do, I still don't know where you're going with this." He shook his head, eyeing my raised hand if is deciding whether or not it was dangerous. "I mean, you're gonna have to be a bit more specific than that, I mean I'm not gonna just throw my money away for any old Harris barb."
"Fine." I leaned back crossing my arms. "He's going to say something to you regarding detention, or maiming you."
There was a wrinkle in his nose as he thought, looking to Scott, who just shrugged like he didn't want to be a part of it. "Alright, but don't you go instigating anything."
I clasped my hand to my chest. "Oh, Malakai Stilinski, you hurt me again, I am wounded! Never would I ever cheat on a bet."
"You very well would, and you know that's not my name." He grumbled, pulling a balled up five from his pocket and placing it on the table. "Now show your cash."
"Oh I know." I pulled out my own bill, folded in half neatly from my pocket. "I'm going to go through every name that starts with M that I can think of until I'm right."
"Yeah good luck with that. Let me know if you find out Greenberg's while you're at it." He scoffed. "I don't even know how you got the M to begin with..."
"When I'm given the roster for the team, it gives first initials and last names. Though you wouldn't know that, since you've never been highlighted for me to tutor." I explained, tilting my head in thought. "Greenberg however, is scratched out in angry red ink."
"Not a surprise, just ask you friend." Scott said, making me look had him. "She's dating him, right?"
"Ugh, you know the sad thing, is she doesn't even know? Also, I highly doubt what they're doing would constitute as dating." I bleached, shaking my head of the memory of yelled at for said activity happening in certain offices. "I've been trying to bleach the details out of my head. Coach really needs to get us straight, we aren't even related, not to mention I don't' speak british."
Stiles' lips twitched along with his furrowed brow as he was about to ask 'what kind of details' or mock me about how I used a British accent to make my point, but the bell rang, and Harris was nothing if not prompt.
"Before collecting your homework, we're going to see just how many of you actually did the assignment." He doled small papers to each table with a sinister grin. "Clear the desks, we're going to have a pop quiz."
I let out a small whimper, putting my things back in my bag and shaking my pencil between my fingers. Yup, definitely met my expectations. I gave a rue smile at the teacher as he gave me and the boys our quizzes, hoping that I had retained what I read. My mom has really been cracking down on my chem and math scores, and Harris was making it damn near impossible. I glumly reviewed the short quiz, but relaxed slightly upon notice that it was all things I knew. As I started to work on it, I was distracted by the sound of whispering next to me. I looked over at Stiles as he ignored his paper, and continued to speak to Scott in hushed tones.
"What if the next body part she steals is from someone who's still alive?" Man Stiles needs to work on his whispering skills. How have I not figured out what they're up to at this point?
"Hey guys," I felt my curiosity get the best of me as I leaned towards the middle of the table. "Why are you talking about-"
I didn't even get to finish the inquisition and Harris was aware of our voices. Not that I was surprised, we were in a speaking in a silent room where no one else dared. Sharp eyes darted towards us behind rectangular glasses, a stony expression across his face. I gulped, and looked down at my quiz, frantically pretending I didn't disturb the din.
"This is a pop quiz, Mr. Stilinski. If I hear your voice again, I may be tempted to give you both detention for the rest of your high school careers. Well, make that all three of your careers, don't think I missed your voice too Ms. McGrath."
We just sat there, slack jawed for a few seconds, but then Stiles decided to use his usual, if comical, flare for sarcasm and wit. This is going to be good.
"Can you do that?"
"Nice, really nice Mitchell." I hissed, snatched the fives from the table, and looked back at my desk. "How profound of you. "
"There it is again. Your voice. Triggering the only impulse I've ever had to strike a student repeatedly and violently. I'll see you at 3 for detention." He tilted his head, noting my movement and comment, while simultaneously remembering that Stiles was talking to Scott. "You too, Mr. McCall? Ms. McGrath?"
Scott and I shook our heads saying, 'No, sir,' in unison making Jackson and Danny laugh from behind us. I found myself muttering about how that should be another five since he also threatened his physical health, but did it over my paperwork to avoid the teacher's wrath. I was met with a jerk to the shoulder. However, it ended up coming from the other side of the table as Jackson ran out of the room clutching his nose. I paused, my hand raised midway, my slap now seeming useless. And this, along with the glare I got at the incorrect naming, was why they were only tenuous friends.