The on coming days held no relief as she struggled to settle into this new town. It felt repetitive; going to school, coming home, battling night terrors that one simply couldn't fathom and repeat. Wanting to lay as low as she possibly could while attempting to ride out the rest of her Junior year seemed far fetched the more she thought about it. How could she focus on her subjects when all she could do was continue to grieve? And just as she suspected, her teachers were not going to go easy on was like they completely overlooked the fact that her mother had passed just shy of a month ago. Perhaps they thought Riley to be capable of more than she could handle, but she knew that at this moment she was not. It took everything out of her to wake up each morning. To force herself to get dressed, will herself to eat something-though most of the time her appetite was suppressed-and go to school. It seemed easy enough, for any typical teenager . . . But she was far from typical.
Riley could feel the school bus shift beneath her feet as it drove swiftly over a speed bump. It pulled her from her thoughts, biting her tongue each time the boy next to her bumped his knee to hers. Keeping her mouth shut, because she knew he was kind from the past few days she'd sat with him. It was hard to believe that someone as friendly as Danny Mahealani could be friends with Jackson Whittemore. It must have been true that jocks flocked together.
Keeping her headphones plugged into her ears, her mind began to wonder to last Friday night, when another person had shown her a great deal of kindness, despite his look of annoyance the whole ride back to her apartment. He'd given her an ultimatum, to get in his car or get mauled by whatever hunted in the shadows. Her own casual blindness to the fact that he could have so easily kidnapped her once she'd gotten into the passenger side seat of his Camaro was alarming now that she thought back on it.
Would it really have been so bad to walk home?
What were the chances of an animal attack?
Riley tried to ignore the memory of his glowering green eyes and callous tone, but found herself wondering why he cared in the first place. It wasn't his place to have looked after her that night. To go out of his way to ensure she got home safe. And after he'd called her a dumbass for even thinking of getting home on foot, she knew if she ever saw him again, that she would only return the favor with witty and cruel insults. The school bus came to a sudden halt, balancing her books within one arm evenly, Riley heard the gasps echo off the titanium frame as her fellow classmates rose from their seats suddenly. "Attention all students," the bus driver spoke into his speaker with a raspy voice, "Please proceed to your first hour classes immediately."
The scratch within his throat seemed unusual as Riley stood, inching onto her toes to see what is was that had put the rest of the students on edge. She could not see from her angle, shifting closer and closer to the exit of the bus as she could barely make out the detail of yellow caution tape. It was enclosed around a second school bus, her eyes transfixed on the deputy waiving his arms to signal the passing kids to continue briskly. Her feet stumbled once they landed on the dewy concrete, the frigid morning air created a ghosted breath to spill from her chattering teeth.
Hugging her jacket closer to her body, Riley's knees locked into place at the sight.
Beyond the crime scene tape was an isolated and parked school bus. The exit doors to the back of the bus facing her as they dangled from their hinges. She could see straight into the rear of it, the brown leather seats were shredded. But that wasn't what had caught her attention;it had been the blood splattered in deep contrast against the yellow school bus paint. It pooled in some areas, coagulating into chunks as the chilled air froze it into icicles along the bumper.
And suddenly all she could see was red. Even beginning to feel the metallic taste fill her throat.
Her hand covered her mouth instinctively, her legs breaking into unstable sprint. Her boots squeaked against the tiled floors of the school's building, feeling the bile begin to bubble within her stomach once she got closer to the women's restroom. The halls were partially vacant as students hurried to their first hour, most were eager to hear the details of the crime scene staged out front. Gnashing her teeth together as forcefully as she could, Riley felt the hot liquid fill her mouth just as she stormed into the first bathroom stall she saw. Her shoulders quaked as she kneeled before the toilet,throwing everything up that she'd digested the night before. A quiver ran through her, her eyes watering with bitter tears as she tried to forget the sight. She'd never been queasy when it came to blood, not until she'd had her mother's all over her hands.
Another round of vomiting came and went, trying to swallow the distinct memory of that as well.
The crime scene had triggered something within her, wiping her lips on the sleeve of her jacket before cautiously flushing the contents of her stomach away. With shaking legs, she stood for a moment to regain her composure as she tucked her hair back and away from her lightheaded at the thought, she knew why the blood had impacted her this way. It reminded her of just a few weeks prior when the rustic smell had been so distinct that it had embedded itself into her memory. The school bus massacre had nothing on her mothers murder.
With hesitant hands, she unlatched the stall door as she faced herself in the mirror above the sinks. Her reflection was wild and unrecognizable. She seemed distant and void of any emotion except for exhaustion. Her eyes were tired and her cheeks hallow, she did not appear to be the same girl she'd grown up eighteen years knowing. Clutching the strap upon her bag just a little bit tighter, she lowered eyes from the mirror and headed to French.
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Her classes felt longer than usual, but perhaps it was because of her extreme yearning for this day to be over. Because the sooner she got home, the sooner she could stop pretending like these past few weeks haven't caved in on her. To mask her grief enough to focus felt tiring and pointless. There was no silver lining in using her studies to distract her. And after heaving every last drop of bile within her stomach out before fourth period, she was tardy to Chemistry. Filing in late as the teacher narrowed his accusing eyes at her while continuing his lecture, Riley avoided Stiles persistent waive of his hand for her to sit beside him and his shaggy haired, uneven jawed friend, Scott. Distancing herself from people was not going to help her, but the lack of anxiety that usually came when being within close proximity of those two boys was relieving. She didn't have to invest herself into a situation that would only make her feel more hollow.
And once lunch rolled around, gathering her things as she hastily made an exit from the class, she could hear Stiles calling out for her to wait up. Approaching her locker with a hardened expression, the overactive spaz caught up to her with panting breaths. From her peripheral, she could see his goofy grin plastered over his freckled cheeks. His limbs were awkward, the teen was probably still unsure of just how lanky he really was. "You look sick." Was the first thing he said as his whiskey colored eyes raked over her paled features. And before she could respond, his lips puckered in slight disgust. "Oh God, you're not sick, are you?" His voice was smooth, but still erratic and quick. "It's the worst, isn't it? You never truly appreciate your ability to breathe until you get a stuffy nose. And then it's hard to eat anything, because you can't keep it down. And that's another thing!"He remarked, "You know that feeling you get right before you throw up? When the glands in the back of your mouth start to overproduce saliva . . ."
Riley's eyes closed, her fist gripping her locker as she began to feel exactly what he explained in great detail. Her throat swelled up, her mouth watering as if to lubricate her esophagus as the bile eased up her stomach inch by inch. Her lips quivered as a thin sheen of sweat coated her forehead. "Stiles?" She asked with a clenched jaw.
"Yeah?" He asked as he trailed off from his overactive imaginative thought process.
"Please, shut up." Riley swallowed the hot saliva gathering on her tongue with uneasiness.
"Okay."His lips popped together then, unsure of how to bridge the topic from something other than bodily fluids. That was part of his charm, rambling about useless information because his ADHD got the better of him. "Are you going to eat lunch with us today?" The idea of food made her neck twitch, but nodded her head despite feeling the sickness hitting her in waves.
And as the ventured towards the cafeteria, he continued to speak at forty miles an hour. His lips moved so fast, that she wondered briefly how his voice never got hoarse. The direction of his topic felt less threatening to Riley's health as she listened to him vent about his averaging grade in Math. He didn't just want to get by, he wanted to thrive in his school work to make his Sheriff of a father proud. Being the bench warmer for the lacrosse team wasn't necessarily something for his dad to brag about to his Deputies.
And so Stiles Stilinski tried to make up for what he lacked by being smart. Though he'd fallen behind on a few tests the past few weeks,for reasons he wasn't going to explain, he still knew he could raise his C's to A's if he put enough effort into it. "Are you free tonight?" He'd been rambling this whole time as she stood in line with him for food, opting for only a can of Sprite to help settle her stomach. His question caught her off guard, her eyes widening in confusion as he backtracked to explain. "We could have a study session at my house." He assured with innocent eyes. "Remember you said you'd tutor me?" She briefly remembered agreeing to that after he'd hounded her on her first day. "But only if you're feeling up for it." He continued as he loaded his lunch tray with a second helping of tater tots.
And despite the violent need to vomit all over again, she reluctantly agreed.
She wasn't sure why either. Because she could have easily declined and he wouldn't have given it a second thought until she felt better. Riley figured it was her subconscious way of not being alone. If she could commit to small things like this, it made her more normal. And right now, she felt anything but. What teenager came home from school to an empty home? What teenager relied solely on themselves for anything and everything? The predicament she was put in was anything but, and so she mindfully agreed to keep herself from becoming lonely.
The lunch room was crowded as she followed behind Stiles to their usual table. Scott McCall was already seated with a beautiful brunette by his side, Allison. Riley dragged the metal chair across the tile as she sat across from her, biting the inside of her cheek as Stiles opted to sit beside her. And as she popped the tab to her can of soda, Riley watched Scott's hand engulf Allison's atop the table. She ate delicately with the other hand, transfixed on her food for just a moment as Scott stared at her oddly.
His brown eyes were softly widened, his dimpled cheek slightly risen as he watched her with what seemed like a scared expression. Riley eyed his reaction carefully, his fist tightening around hers as if he were afraid he was going to lose her. Riley found it unusual, but lowered her eyes once Allison had caught her staring at their clasped hands. Her attention refocused as three other additions joined their table, seeing a pretty faced red head situate herself beside Scott, with her asshole of a boyfriend at the foot of the table.
"Did you guys see the blood fest this morning?" A voice chimed incomplete interest, turning her head to watch Danny take a seat on the other side of Stiles. His tanned cheeks were stretched over his brilliant smile. "It was pretty gnarly." He commented."Riley looked like she was going to puke." He remembered seeing her face go pale and her hands begin to shake. Every set of eyes landed on her as she skimmed her pinky finger around the lip of her can of soda. "Does anyone know what happened?"
Riley kept her head down, her foot bouncing against the tile as she became uncomfortable as the topic changed. From her peripheral vision, she could see Jackson shrug his leather clad shoulder. "I heard it was some kind of animal attack." He proposed as her jittery foot suddenly ceased mid bounce. Her mind immediately shot back to a few nights ago when that 'Cryptic Camaro Asshole' had mentioned her likely run in with something lurking within the shadows if she'd decided to walk home. "Maybe a mountain lion?" Jackson contemplated as he scraped his fork against his plate.
Not being able to help but remember the carnage of the crime scene, Riley looked to him incredulously. She hadn't spoken to him since she'd last called him out, but his ignorance seemed to appall her once more."You honestly think a mountain lion did that?" Her voice was demanding, her eyes shifting to the others seated around their table. Falling upon the boy across from her as Scott's head fell slightly, his shaggy hair covering his eyes. He seemed uneasy with their discussion for some reason. "Ripped a door off it's hinges and mauled somebody?"
"Did they say if the guy survived or not?" Lydia questioned with concern.
Jackson shot an annoyed look in Riley's direction, as if he was aggravated with her speaking out against him . . . Again. "Who cares?" He quirked a brow, stabbing his steamed broccoli with the spears on his fork. "The guy was probably some homeless tweaker." His insensitive nature irked Riley in the worst way, narrowing her eyes at him as he continued without a care. "He would have died sooner or later."
Feeling an out pour of anger flood her senses, her hands balled into fists within her lap. Jackson Whittemore was so unbelievably narcissistic and volatile by nature. It seemed unusual for the people sitting around her not to feel a waive of anger engulf them, but perhaps it was because they were use to his insensitivity. "Were you dropped on your head as a baby?" She snapped between gritted teeth. "Or is being an insensitive piece of shit part of your DNA?"
Her outburst surprised both Allison and Scott, their eyes widening as Jackson gripped the fork within his hand to suppress his own outlash. They eyed each other down in disbelief for what felt like a few long and dreadful seconds. Neither would look away first. And Riley waited for the snarky comment she knew was brewing within his conniving little head. His inability to think of a comeback fast enough caused a silent tension to flood their lunch table.
It was Lydia Martin who broke through their stare down with her dainty and soft voice. She flipped a piece of her strawberry blonde hair behind her shoulder as she spoke. "Can we talk about something less disturbing?" She begged, glaring at Jackson to calm down until his eyes pried away from Riley's. "Like what are we all doing tomorrow night?" Lydia leaned over her packed lunch to glance at Allison. "You said you and Scott were hanging out,right?"
Riley watched as the light left Scott's eyes, a humorous thing to watch as he stared at his girlfriend with wide eyes. "Ye-Yeah,"Allison stuttered as she tried to apologize to him silently for ruining their plans to have a night to themselves. "We're still not sure what we're gonna do." She insisted with apologetic eyes.
"Well," Lydia huffed as she glanced at her perfectly polished nails. "I'm not going to sit at home and watch lacrosse videos all night again," she looked to Jackson stiffly. "So if we're going to hang out, we're going to do something fun." It was more of a statement than it was a suggestion. Riley had a feeling that whatever Lydia Martin said goes.
"Hanging out?" Scott seemed wary of the idea of having to see Jackson anywhere outside of school, and to be honest, Riley couldn't blame him. "Like, all of us, together? A double date?" He did not like the idea one bit.
"Triple date." Lydia corrected. "Jackson and I, Allison and you, and. . ." she trailed off as she glanced to Stiles shoving an entire chicken strip into his mouth. "Him and Riley." She shrugged her shoulder as if it were that obvious, but it stunned Riley to hear anyone place her in a position of romance with someone she did not think of in that way. Side eyeing the kid next to her, he froze with his mouth agape and his chicken tender hanging from his lips.
Wanting to decline hastily, her own voice lumped within her throat. "A-A date?" Stiles questioned as if he hadn't heard Lydia say it the first time. It couldn't even be possible for him to like Riley as much as he liked the red head. He'd been head over heels for Lydia since the third grade. "Tha-that sounds great!" He exclaimed excitedly.
It was easy to have someone else suggest a date between both he and Riley, than it was for him to ask her himself. "You know what else sounds great?" Jackson made a snide comment as he raised his silverware, "stabbing myself in the eye with this fork." He'd rather inflict actual pain on himself than have to be in the company of any of the people that surrounded him.
Lydia snatched the fork from his hands, giving him a look that insisted he be nice. "How about bowling?" She recommended tentatively."You love to bowl!"
"Yeah,"Jackson huffed, "with actual competition."
Allison scoffed with extreme surprise. "How do you know we're not actual competition?" Pointing between both her and Scott. The shaggy haired kid seemed uncomfortable the longer this conversation went on."You can bowl, right?" She nudged her boyfriend casually.
Opening his mouth to speak, he became flustered. "Sort of . . ."
Becoming even more cocky than Riley thought possible, Jackson leaned his elbows on the lunch table as he looked to Scott with a challenging glare. "Now," he huffed, "is it sort of? Or yes?"Scott squirmed slightly beneath the jocks gaze, and that was exactly what made Jackson feel superior.
But Scott McCall would not let Jackson Whittemore win. "Yes." He finally muttered. "In fact," he formed his own ego around wanting to show the asshole up, "I'm a great bowler." His eyes narrowed in a challenging notion to him, the tension becoming thick once more as Lydia interrupted it.
"Then it's settled!" She clapped her hands together. "Triple date bowling night!" She seemed pleased with the plans for the following night, continuing on with time of arrival and so forth as Riley's mind finally caught up to reality.
She had already committed to tutoring Stiles, but a date was a little much. She looked to Stiles as a goofy grin plastered over his face. Of course he was happy, this was probably going in the direction he wanted. But for Riley, this was not going according to plan. "I'm going to have to bail." She cleared her throat as the table fell silent. With her eyes still on Stiles, she could visibly see the happiness leave his eyes.
"Ha!" Jackson spat, his eyes spewing venom in Stiles direction."Rejection's a bitch, isn't it?"
Riley felt a sense of pity flare within her bones as Stiles suffered at the butt of his joke. Collecting her temper, she nudged Stiles silently beneath the table. It was a quiet apology. "As much as I'd love to beat your ass at bowling," Riley gritted her teeth,"I start my new job at the Coffee Bean tomorrow night. Otherwise," she mentioned to help restore her friends self esteem, "Stiles and I wouldn't miss the chance to see you whine like a little bitch when you lose."
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Feeling extremely pleased with herself for the remainder of her classes, Riley couldn't help but hold her head a little higher than usual. Something about defending herself felt empowering. To stand up to a jerk that no one would dare cross was both idiotic and satisfying. Back in San Diego, Riley had mostly been quiet, kept her mouth shut when she should have spoken up and watched from the side lines. Maybe it was her most recent unfortune that made her defensive, but either way she appreciated the boost in confidence.
It was what she needed right now to feel normal. To act like nothing was eating away at her on the inside. Her mental health had been severely compromised this passed month or so, and to have a few minutes of unquestionable bravery made her shoulders feel lighter. Jackson was the typical rich kid whose parents never told him no. He drove a Porsche and wore expensive clothing. He thought he was better than everyone in every aspect. But wealth did not overcome wit, not when he was matched against Riley Haven.
After the month she'd had, she would not tolerate the inconceivable backlash from someone like him. Nor would she accept it being directed towards the minimal friends she'd made so far. Allison Argent was extremely kind and sympathetic. She showed gratitude and acceptance to everyone and everything. Riley could easily see herself becoming fast friends with the Sophomore easily. Everybody liked Allison it seemed like. It felt impossible to look into her glossy doe-like eyes or see the shallow dimples form on her squared cheeks when she smiled and not be compelled to grin back in return.
Scott McCall was still a mystery. He was quiet most of the time, but Riley had a hunch that there was something more to him. He was patient with people, a characteristic not a lot of people had. He seemed detached at some points, like his mind was wandering into the deep unknown. He looked anxious and stressed at nearly all hours of the day. He hadn't always been like this, but some rather recent happenings had put him on edge. But none the less, Riley figured he was a good match for Allison.
Riley wouldn't label Lydia Martin, Beacon Hills most notorious red-head, as a friend quite yet. Especially since she's dissed her boyfriend on two separate occasions. The Sophomore was out spoken and committed to impressing as many people as she could. Despite acting as if she wasn't knowledgeable on most topics, Riley had a feeling that Lydia was a lot smarter than she lead people to believe. Perhaps she was playing a part; dressing immaculate without a single strawberry blonde curl out of place.
And then there was Stiles Stilinski, who Riley could see now as she headed for the parking lot as the final bell rang. Through the swarm of kids clustering the side walk, eager to get home, she couldn't miss him standing at the foot of his old and baby blue Jeep. He looked nervous as he paced, even going as far as to check his reflection in his side mirror. Seeing him do that made a lump of guilt settle within her stomach. It wasn't that hard to tell that he liked her, but then again he would have fallen head over heels for any girl that gave him the time of day.
He was clumsy and erratic, but despite the overall lankiness of his frame, Riley could tell his arms had definition. He was strong and lean for a sixteen year old boy. He used sarcasm to often surpass his inability to communicate with ease, often stumbling over his words or rambling. Regardless of all that, he was gentle and timid. His low self esteem came from years of always being picked last.
Stiles wandering eyes caught hers through the crowd, raising an elongated arm above his head as he waived her over to meet him. Unsure of how the study session would go, she accepted the fact that his lack of focus may make it harder to tutor him. He was fiddling with the sleeve of his green plaid shirt when she made it to him, that ridiculous smile engulfing almost the entire lower half of his face. "You ready?" He asked as they parted their ways at the hood of the car to their respected side doors.
She nodded as she tried to force the same level of excitement into her own grin. She knew it didn't come out the same way his did, but it was the thought that count. "I hope you're hungry," she mentioned sarcastically, "Because I'm going to shove this textbook down your throat by the end of today." Stiles wasn't sure if it was a threat, but either way, he looked at the hard covered book in her lap and accepted his fate without protest.
Swallowing the guilt that idled in the back of his mouth, he felt ashamed for lying to her. Stiles was exceptionally well at math and didn't require any tutoring. He hoped that this cover up would be an opportunity to get to know her better. He switched the ignition with a swift flick of his wrist, pulling from the parking space as Riley stared down at her hands. She silently hoped that his father, the Sheriff, would be home when they got there. Just in case he tried to stray off the topic of their studies. He didn't seem like the kind of kid that dripped in enough confidence to be ballsy enough to try anything, but either way, Riley wouldn't be opposed to shoving her foot down his throat instead. Her plan for assault was short lived as she felt the Jeep jerk to a sudden stop. "Jesus Christ!" Stiles hissed under his breath. Clawing at her seat belt as she re-steadied herself, a heavy breath collected in her lungs as she looked at the boy in the drivers seat.
His eyes were wild and his mouth agape. Gripping the steering wheel with tight hands as he looked out past the windshield with unfathomable panic. Following his line of sight, her own gaze trailed out past the glass before her and to the parking lot of the school. They hadn't even gotten two feet away from the parking spot when someone had stopped in front of the car. "Dammit, Derek." He muttered in an aggravated tone.
Standing at the hood of the Jeep, with a staggered frame and outstretched hand was a man. His skin was pale in contrast to his dark leather jacket. His features were familiar, the shadow of his closely shaved jaw line wouldn't have been hard to recognize. But it was the eyes, both striking and hooded. The man made no attempt to move out of the way as half a dozen cars lined up behind the Jeep to exit. Their horns began honking and all Riley could do was remain frozen in her seat.
It was the same guy from a few nights prior. Stiles had called him Derek.
And as he stumbled in the street, she watched with confused and concerned eyes as he collapsed to the asphalt below. Stiles groaned, turning to her quickly as he unbuckled his seat belt. "Do me a favor?" It was not a question. "Stay in the car." He exited the drivers seat and slammed his door, a brisk pace to his feet as Scott McCall came running to help from where he'd been stanced at the bike racks up ahead. The two Sophomores leaned down beside Derek, blocking her view as she tried to see what was happening.
The irritation in Stiles' voice suggested that he knew him. And by the way Scott had sprinted to his aid, he did as well. Ignoring her friends suggestion to stay put, Riley got out of the Jeep then too. Bystanders watched from the side walk, wondering just what all the commotion was about. But Derek, who now had a name besides 'Asshole',was in a seated position, clutching his left arm to his chest. Staying beside her opened car door, she could see between the two teenagers shoulders now.
Derek's full brows were pinched together in concentration, his jaw squared together tightly as he gnashed his teeth to suppress the pain. What was he doing here, she thought quietly to herself. And as she traced her eyes over his pearly white teeth, up and over his angled nose and up to his green eyes, she caught him glaring at her before clamping his eyelids shut. He too recognized her from the night he drove her home. Scott looked over his shoulder then, seeing Riley standing just a mere five feet away. His expression was panicked and his tone suggestive. "Get back in the car." He did not demand it the way Stiles had, his voice was still soft yet distinctly anxious. Riley's limbs were locked, standing on her toes to get a better view of Derek. He seemed to be in pain and she wondered if he needed medical attention.
And despite the horns blaring from behind her, she could hear the three of them speaking in solid and low whispers. "I can't control it." Derek seethed between his teeth in a pained whisper.
"What should we do?" Stiles prompted, looking to his best friend for answers.
It took a moment for Scott to decide, running a quick hand through his tousled curls before a deep sigh sifted through his lips. "Take him to Deaton's."
"Why me?" Stiles huffed in a high pitched whine. "I can't just take him there! I've got Riley riding with me."
Her brow furrowed as they discussed her in hushed tones. "Then. Let. Her. Walk." Derek insisted with a hefty and angry voice. Riley felt her throat swell as his spoke of her as if she were easy to get rid of. He hadn't been saying that a few nights ago. In fact, he'd insisted on her getting into his car so that she would get home safely. Why was his concern so twisted now?
"Absolutely not." Stiles argued in return.
Scott intervened then, "I can't just carry him on my bike."
Stiles tilted his head as if to beg to differ. "In all honesty, you probably could." He reminded him with a knowing look. "You know," his hands raised upward as they curled into claws,"Werewo-"
"Stiles!" Scott plead.
Riley strained her ears, leaning forward as their bodies clouded her view of Derek. "Fine." The 'Cryptic Camaro Asshole' sighed with a tense breath, "Take her home and we'll meet Scott there." From what Riley could tell, he was now looking pointedly to her shaggy haired friend. "I need you to get the bullet." He whispered slowly.
Scott seemed frustrated now as he hooked his arm under Derek's shoulder, lifting him to his feet as Stiles wrapped his arm around his waist. "You expect me to find one bullet?" He demanded. "That's like trying to find a needle in a haystack!"
Watching as the two boys steadied him, Riley could visibly see just how weak he looked. His skin paled as a thin sheen of sweat covered his exposed neck. "Then you better start looking." He retorted in a persuasive and breathy tone. "Because I'll die without it." Stiles then took over, all but dragging his stumbling body to the left side of the car as he helped him into the back seat.
Her eyes remained on Scott, watching a he hurriedly sprinted back to his bike and pedaled off quickly. Jumping back into the drivers seat, Stiles motioned from her to get back in. Reluctantly she conformed and kept her eyes forward as he slammed his foot onto the gas. "There's just a slight change of plans." He mentioned with apology. "I'm going to take you home, okay?" His actions were forced and erratic, knowing his heart was pounding away inside of his chest as he idled on the verge of a panic attack.
Looking to him briefly, feeling too scared to look over her own shoulder at the guy crumpled in pain in the back seat. "What's going on?" She asked in a small voice, nodding her head slightly in Derek's direction. Her eyes were wide with worry, her lips parted in concern."Is he okay?"
Stiles hesitated for a moment, pressing his lips into a thin line as he thought of a believable lie. "What? Him?" He thrust his thumb over his shoulder as he pointed at the guy in the back seat. Riley nodded, finally able to briefly flick her gaze in his direction. "Oh, he's fine!" Stiles replied back optimistically, trying to discourse her assumptions. "He's just my cousin . . ." He trailed off, raking his brain for more lies ," . . . My cousin, Miguel."
"Miguel?" Riley rose a surprised brow.
"Mhm." Stiles nodded, keeping his eyes tethered to the road. "He's got food poisoning." He used his sarcastic charm to waive off the severity of the situation. He looked into his rear view mirror, making a show out of directing his attention to the guy situated behind him. "I told you not to eat the sushi, didn't I?" He recalled, trying hard to cover something up. He grinned slightly, trying to hide his quivering lip as he nudged Riley. "He has a low tolerance for raw fish."
With caution, she turned her head slightly to glance back at him too. Riley had had food poisoning before, never having seen it to this extreme. "Are you sure he's okay?" She asked again, noticing just how much resistance the guy put in to not looking her way. "Should we call someone? I don't know, like, an ambulance?" Stiles was shaking his head before she could even finish.
"Not necessary." He assured. "Derek's got a very fast metabolism. He'll be fine in no time."
Riley squinted to her friend in the drivers seat with confusion. "I thought you said his name was Miguel?"
And before her eyes, she could see him start to fumble for an explanation. A cover up. Another lie. Riley wasn't stupid, she was able to clearly make out the stutter in his explanation. "Oh, uh. . ." He trailed off, his thumbs drumming against the steering wheel anxiously. "Yep, I did say that." He concluded. "Miguel is his real name," he tried to rectify his mistake, "but, umm . . . He prefers to go by Derek." He shrugged his shoulder casually, pleased with his explanation. "He hates the name Miguel. Hates it. Like absolutely loathes-"
" ." Derek finally groaned from the back seat, feeling a migraine pierce his skull every time the spaz opened his mouth. Riley fully turned then, surprised to hear him finally say something. The irritation on his face was clearly view able, his brows scrunched together in an attempt to tolerate the pain radiating through him. "Just take her home already."
Appalled by his obvious lack of respect, narrowing her eyes at his index finger that remained pointed in her direction. "I suggest you put that finger down," Riley snarled, finding his manners both rude and disrespectful, "Unless you want me to shove it up your-"
"Hey!" Stiles rose a hand to clear the air. "Let's just all calm down, okay?" His foot remained pressed against the gas pedal, weaving through the streets with disrupted attention. "They'll be no shoving of any kind," he relayed in a ramble, "Or any place-"
"Oh,shit!" Riley screeched suddenly, her eyes fixated on a thick trail of blood seeping from beneath his sleeve and onto his wrist. Stiles steered his eyes from the road for a second, leaning over to see what it was that made her so concerned, when he too caught sight of it.
He turned back to face the road, looking back and forth between the windshield and Derek's reflection. "Don't you dare bleed out on my seats!" He muttered, somehow more on edge than he was before.
And all the while, Riley kept her eyes carefully set on Derek. This was something worse than she could have imagined. "Stiles," she urged in a persuasive manner, "we need to get him to a Hospital."
"What we need," he emphasized, "is to get you home." He nodded to himself, as if to physically agree with the decisions he made within his own head. "What's your address?" Biting her lip, she sat back within her seat, folding her arms across her chest to let him know that she was not going to just let this go. Her dead silence spoke for it's self, squaring her jaw to signify her resistance. "Ry," he sighed, "C'mon?"
Shaking her head, she rose an accusatory hand in Derek's direction. "Someone's literally dying in your backseat," Riley reminded him with a sour tone, "Do you honestly think I'm stupid?"
"No!" Stiles defended. "Absolutely not!"
And with demanding features she remarked, "Then stop lying to my face."
He fell silent for a moment, feeling trapped between the truth and what she considered a lie. These secrets were not his to tell, glancing to Derek's reflection in the rear view mirror, she could see him shake his head sternly. Derek could sense that Stiles was about to break ,feeling an immeasurable amount of pain collect within his bones as he looked to Riley. She had her eyes strapped on Stiles, someone he could see she considered a friend.
She was a lot sharper than he gave her credit for. That first night he'd met her, he thought of her as a young and naive dumbass that had no idea of the darkness that lurked within Beacon Hills. Seemingly unafraid of it's shadows, he could tell that she would not be the kind of person to let something like this go. She'd seen too much already. But there was this undeniable drive that rested within her, something he noticed the minute she defended her right to the truth. People like her were hard to come by. People who could see things for what they truly were.
For someone her age, Derek knew she was wise. Life lessons had taught her to be someone better, be someone smarter, stronger and more careful. He could see it now. He hadn't before. And with all he'd learned from his own struggles and achievements, he recognized the same level of stubbornness come from her that resided within him. And the only way to beat stubbornness was with even more stubbornness. And so Derek opened his mouth to say the only thing that would dissolve this issue and move them forward.
He remembered her address from that night, relaying it to Stiles with a confident and hard tone.
Realizing that remembering something as detailed as her apartment number was a bit stalker-ish, he sat back in his seat, diffusing the hateful stares that Riley shot at him in silence. She could think what she wanted of him, because he had no real intention of seeing her again after this. Stubborn people like her were dangerous to have in a community like Beacon Hills. They'd never stop searching for answers, and if they ever got them, they wouldn't like the result.
Riley remained in her seat, heated by the frustration of having her operation compromised. She had rights as both a friend and a passenger to know what was happening, and as Stiles pulled into her apartment complex, she feared that maybe she'd never find out. Biting her lip, she rounded up her belongings before opening the car door."If he dies," Riley mentioned with aloofness, "I get his Camaro."
A huff sounded from the backseat, "Not a chance in He-"Derek's voice became muffled as she slammed the door to the Jeep, letting them both know by her silence that she was angry. But even with the disappointment she felt from being lied to, a small and annoyed smile lined her lips as she headed up the stairs to the second floor. Riley did not look back at them as she walked, hoping to herself that the 'Cryptic Camaro Asshole' would feel better soon.
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Not having been able to sleep, she found herself lying awake until the early hours of the next morning. Tossing and turning as her mind tried to theorize what it was that had happened yesterday. Wanting to be mad at the both of them, she found herself pitying them instead. There was clearly a bigger picture here. Something they couldn't trust her with knowing. But the thing about Riley was that she was persistent in her attempts and would not allow this to slip from her thoughts. Dragging herself through the school hallways, finding it irritating that some students could have so much pep at an hour like this, she drowned out their loud voices as she slipped her headphones in. Knowing it was inevitable to not run into Stiles today, she figured that giving him the cold shoulder would teach him that she doesn't take lying lightly.
Rummaging through her locker after third period, she knew the next hour of Chemistry would be interesting. And just as she suspected, Stiles approached her as he always did before their class. Keeping her eyes strained on her locker door, she could feel him standing beside her. From her peripheral vision, she could see his lips moving at a rapid pace. He could explain himself all he wanted, but it still would not eliminate the disdain she felt for him right now.
Without even a glance in his direction, she shut her locker door and proceeded to Chem.
He followed behind, able to feel him on her heels as he presumably continued apologizing. She didn't want an apology, she wanted the truth. And as they took their seats in class, wanting to sit as far away from where both he and Scott usually sat, she was surprised to see him follow to a seat beside her instead of his best friend. And as the warning bell sounded, Riley removed the headphones from her ears in preparation of today's lesson. ". . . I know you're mad at me," he continued his ramble, able to hear his voice now, "And you'll probably hate me and that's fine, but there are just some things that are better left-"
"Stilinski." Mr. Harris voiced, perched at the front of the class. "I'd like to remind you that a class room is for learning," he reminded, "not for spreading gossip. If I even hear a peep out of you that isn't Chemistry related, I will give you detention everyday until you graduate. Am I clear?"
Hearing Mr. Harris threaten him made her crack a smile, hiding it quickly by pressing her lips into a firm line. "No-I mean yes, Sir!" He stammered, feeling the weight of the teachers words. "You won't hear a word from me," he promised as he pretended to zip his mouth shut, "Unless it's topic related." Stiles nodded at his own words, waiting until the appropriate time to plant his elbows on his desk and raise two fists into the air. "Go, Chem!"He whisper-yelled, proving to be a bigger pain on the ass than Harris could have bargained for.
Rolling her eyes, Riley retrieved her notes for the class and returned her attention to the lecture.
Not sure who to thank for the promising silence of the boy sitting beside her, she felt relieved to be able to spend this hour without hearing his constant apology. And all though Stiles promised to keep his mouth closed, that didn't deter him from scribbling across a piece of paper, folding it up nice and crisp and lightly tossing it on her desk. The note landed on her text book, eyeing it in complete aggravation as she turned her head slightly to glare at him.
'Open it', he mouthed, no trace of sound coming from his lips.
And despite her better judgement, she did so out of annoyance more than anything. 'Sorry for yesterday!', he wrote in a rushed scrawl. She wanted to believe him, but to be honest, she still didn't know him all that well. For all Riley Haven knew, Stiles could be a pathological liar.
Without hesitating this time, she wrote back in a defensive manner. 'If you're truly sorry, you'll tell me what really happened.' Riley crumpled up the paper and tossed it back to him silently.
She could hear a defeated sigh sound from his lips as he read it over. 'Just trust me on this, okay? It's better if you don't know.' Is what he'd written back before discreetly planting it back on her desk.
Wanting to initiate the subject change, Riley replied, 'How do you even know Derek?'
'I could ask you the same thing.' Stiles challenged in return. With a humph, Riley tossed it back at him without replying, feeling accused when it was Stiles who had a lot of explaining to do. He took the note back without protest, jotting something else down before giving it back. 'Looks like I'm not the only one hiding something.' His statement was brief and crucial to Riley's understanding.
'I hate you.' Was all she responded, but the flicker of defeat crossed within her features.
Stiles replied, 'I'm sorry you feel that way. The 'I hate Stiles' club meets on Thursdays after school.'
Reading his sarcastic insult to himself made her lip raise, allowing just the smallest sliver of a grin to smooth over her lips. He had a way of choosing the right way to make peace, all though he usually had to make someone the butt of a joke to do so. Stiles took her raised lip as a sign, giving her the biggest puppy-dog eyes he could manage. "Does that mean you forgive me?" He questioned.
"Stilinski!" Mr. Harris stopped his lecture mid sentence. "Would you like to read that note out loud for the class?" He eyed the piece of paper propped on Stiles desk.
With a panicked expression, Stiles shook his head before crumpling the paper into a smaller ball and popping it into his mouth. "What note?" He argued with a forced voice. Mr. Harris rolled his eyes, taking a deep breath to regain his composure after wishing he could drop this particular student from his class for the thousandth time.
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The rest of her day progressed and slowly as it possibly could. Feeling the weight of her sleepless night, she found herself finding it harder and harder to keep her eyes open. During her sixth hour class, her mind began to wander as the class watched a generic video on the history of World War II. As she sat in the closest seat to the window, she couldn't help herself as her head fell into her palm, her gaze enveloped by the bright afternoon sun. She may have accepted Stiles apology, but that didn't mean he was off the hook.
Wondering how it was that Scott and Stiles came to know Derek, she came to find that maybe it wasn't her business after all, but what had happened in the moments leading up to her arrival home was. She'd been there in the flesh, experienced it with her own eyes, and was still coerced into believing a false perception of the truth. Maybe Stiles wasn't to blame to begin with. Maybe the lies had something more to do with Derek. And her anger flooded back in waves, remembering his pained and twisted features. Remembering the blood pooling in his palm, the incoherent-ness of his eyes. And all while coming up with excuses to justify what happened, she'd somehow fallen asleep. Finding a form of relief as her once burning and irritated eyes found a glimmer of rest.
Her restless muscles molded to her desk in a comfortable way, wishing she could sit like this for hours. Her minutes of ease came to halt, feeling a growing pressure against her shoulder as Riley stirred from her sleep. "Ms. Haven," her History teacher murmured as dozens of her classmates eyed her with amusement. "I have a strict policy on sleeping in class and this isn't your first offence. Go ahead and make your way to the Principles office, he'll be expecting you."
With flushed cheeks and embarrassed strides, Riley Haven headed for the hallway.
Still able to hear the taunting giggles of her classmates echo inside her head, she dragged her sleep deprived body towards the front office. It was true that it had been her second offence in a week, but she wished he could have been a bit more lenient with her. Didn't he know that her mother just passed away? She wished she didn't feel like she was owed time to recuperate, but that was still the main reason behind her sleepless nights.
The hallway was void of any traffic, just the sound of her own boots clunking against the tiles floors. Making her way forward as leisurely as she could, knowing she was in no rush to be in trouble. What was the worst they could do? Give her detention? Riley thought back to when she'd lived in San Diego, how she'd been excelling at her studies. It felt like a lifetime ago, though it had only been just over a month. It didn't seem possible to have that kind of dedication again.
Riley rounded the corner to the hallway of the locker rooms, a longer detour to ride out her punishment. And as she continued on her path, a man approached her from the opposite side of the hall. She eyed him incredulously, "Well hello, Sunshine." she hummed with irritation, "It looks like you got all your beauty sleep last night." Her voice was laced with sarcasm. Coming face to face for a third time with Derek. His hands were tucked away inside the pockets of his leather jacket, his thin lips curved softly at the corner.
His skin was clear and rosy again. The glimmer within his green eyes were like the first time she met him, the dark and hooded skin around his lids were bright and enlightening. She paused just before him, squinting up to look at him to appear sarcastic. "All eight hours." He assured, a cocky expression crossing over his face. "Can't say the same for you." He pointed out with humorous and stern tone. He rose his hand then to point at the dark circles forming under her eyes. "You need some help carrying those bags?"
Derek wasn't the type to make a joke, and after it had slipped from his mouth he didn't understand where it had even come from. Humor was for people who let their guard down, and he couldn't allow that. Not with everything that was going on in his life. A single second without it meant vulnerability. "Ha Ha Ha." Riley's expression dropped, becoming unimpressed with his words as she smacked his hand away from her face. It had been the first time they'd made contact as she redirected the subject. "What the hell are you even doing here? I think you missed your graduation by seven years."
He looked out of place in a high school, too mature to blend in with even the Seniors. A satisfied huff of air escaped his nostrils, trying not to break his hard exterior with the grin that threatened to collect on his cheeks. She was witty, Derek would give her that. His back tensed then as the door to the boys locker room opened, and Riley watched as Jackson Whittemore scurried frantically down the opposite end of the hall in which Derek had come. "I had a little business to attend to." He mentioned rather cryptically.
Riley waited until the jock was out of sight, having a feeling that he was somehow afraid of the guy standing before her. "Typically I'm against bullying," she assured as she pointed towards the hallway after Jackson's quick escape, "But I hate that kid. So feel free to beat him up, steal his lunch money or whatever." Again, Derek found it relatively hard to suppress the chuckle rising up his throat, but cleared it just before it could spill from his mouth.
"You should get going," he recommended then, "You're already in enough trouble as it is." And without mentioning anything else, he bypassed her in a single step and continued on towards the exit to the parking lot. It took her a moment to understand, wondering how it is that he knew she was headed for the Principle. She hated that he infuriated her so much. That he could easily spoil something with one word. What did it sat about her, that Derek both enthralled and irritated her? She re-adjusted her shoulder strap then, heading for the office before her tardiness added another day to her detention.
