"There is one problem," I casually reminded, as Stiles began to grab things from his locker and stuff them into his backpack. Leaning against the one just down from his, I looked absently at my nails as he barely paused long enough to glance at me.
"What do you mean?" His chemistry book was crammed down over the top of all of his papers, probably smushing them all, and I sighed through my nose and let my eyes rove through the halls.
"Oh…" I kept my voice light, nonchalant. "It's nothing. It's just, your plan is to put together a fake study group and essentially barricade yourselves in Scott's house, because Derek is on the hunt. And… you expect me to be in this study group?" Stiles hesitated, his arm freezing in the middle of rifling through something deep within his locker and his eyes flashed up at me uncertainly. "Ignoring the fact that I've never studied for anything in my life, let's look at the real problem: who we're trying to protect." Stiles slowly sat up. "Lydia has it out for me right now, because I was seen sneaking around with her boyfriend, clothing optional. And Jackson… well. He's not my biggest fan either," I mischievously faked a pout, as if it bothered me that these two people couldn't stand me, and Stiles sighed heavily through his nose.
"Do you have to make it your full time job to make enemies?" His voice was laced with irritation, as if he was dealing with a child who'd just drawn all over the walls with permanent marker, and I grinned at his discomfort. "If you haven't insulted someone's mom in a while, do you get itchy?... Antsy? Do you feel like you can't sit still for another second without—"
"Listen to you," I teased. "What would your father say?"
He sighed and reached back into his locker to continue digging for something. My curiosity was piqued as he strained to untangle something, knocking books and papers everywhere, water bottles rolling into the hall behind him as he tugged on it. "He would probably—" Yank, "Be letting me know exactly how irresponsible," Tug, "He thinks," Wrench, "Our plan is, which would just," He gave a final pull as he said the next part, falling back into the floor. "Piss me off!"
I looked at what was wrapped around his hands. I knew the noise was familiar, but for some reason I just didn't expect him to be trying to untangle a chain from his locker. The links were thick—thick enough to restrain a rabid werewolf for at least a little bit. Or a Kanima. Long enough to get away, I'd say. I raised an eyebrow and he quickly sat up before anyone could notice he was trying to pry a long chain out of his locker.
"My," I smirked. "You and Scott still trying stuff out? Just to see how it feels?"
"Ha ha," He said dryly, and I giggled maniacally as he thrust it into his pack. "It's insurance, for your information."
"Insurance?"
"Well," He zipped his back and finally stood up. "Just in case you've forgotten, Allison and I are human. And so is Lydia." I looked pointedly at him and he stubbornly slid the strap of his backpack over his shoulder. "She is. Which makes her vulnerable. So excuse me if I feel like we might need a few extra precautionary—"
"Oh, and how will you explain chaining Jackson up? We can't even think of a way to explain me being there."
Stiles drew in a frustrated breath. "I don't know, Savannah! Tell them you're failing chemistry."
I paused, looking away to mull this suggestion over thoughtfully. It's not like I owed them an explanation. I mean, my presence might make it more difficult for them to trust and/or believe the scenario, but… "I guess I could just be waiting at Scott's house. I could go ahead of you guys."
Stiles sighed in relief, his tense shoulders sagging a bit as he gestured a thankful hand. "There! See? That's a great idea. You can just—oh, do you need a key?" I raised an eyebrow at him and he paused for half a second before catching up, his voice dull with sarcasm. "Right. Who am I asking? Of course you don't. Okay then, I have to go before school is out and Lydia leaves. Allison and I will bring them there, and you can… uh... actually, you better come up with a different excuse than studying. Tell them you're there for something else, it doesn't matter what, but be ready!"
"Fine," I let a bit of my irritation slip into my voice, and Stiles started backing away to begin phase one of kidnapping the Kanima. "But you're on your own with explaining those chains!"
As I sat in Scott's living room, I continually glanced up at the clock. It's too quiet in this house.
There's not a lot to distract me from the incessant ticking—nothing but my thoughts, and I wasn't too keen on focusing on those. It was sort of difficult to ignore them as I sat there with nothing to do though, so I focused them on anything but my former pack.
Honestly, Lydia is a lot of things, but evil is not one of them. I wondered how my pack could so pitilessly decide that her life isn't worth living anymore? I mean, it's Lydia. She's about as threatening as… an anklebiter. Annoying, loud, prissy… Not freakish lizard hybrid material. Not something that's so strong that it can overpower an alpha.
Inevitably, my thoughts turned to my pack. I was worried about them, as much as it grates me to admit. Mostly I was concerned for Isaac. How could he be okay with this? I'm a pretty unsympathetic person, that's no secret… but even I have reservations about cold-blooded murder. I realize the Kanima has done just that. Isaac's dad, for one, but that was no great loss. I also heard that it slaughtered some mechanic.
Why? Two adults—completely unrelated, no relationship that I could think of that would tie them together. Does the Kanima know them? Or is it just blindly killing people?
Jackson is Isaac's neighbor, so that could explain either he or Lydia knowing who his dad is. But the mechanic? I had no clue. There's no way to know without speaking with them. Or perhaps doing some research, but I'm not so sure that's worth the time.
My stomach suddenly growled, the familiar pang of hunger gurgling through it. I sighed and brought a hand up to pat it.
Restless, I stood from the couch and began to roam around the living room. On top of one of the side tables there was a lamp, and beside that there was a picture frame. I reached down to bring it closer.
Scott and Stiles were together, a few years younger, posing in front of the sign of an amusement park. In the picture, it was obvious that the theme park was decorated to the nines for Halloween. I felt an unbidden wash of envy—which took me aback. I quickly set the frame down and turned away.
What the hell? I guess... a small part of me said it's not so crazy for me to feel jealous of what they have. I mean, while I was in and out of court, these two were running around haunted mazes and waiting in line for rollercoasters. I'd heard of rollercoasters, and seen them in movies. Read about them in books… I heard advertisements for new ones on the radio what seemed like every year. But I'd never ridden one. I'd never even seen one in real life. I read a book once where two characters made a game of who could spot the first rollercoaster stretching over the trees on their drive to an amusement park.
Maybe that's why I'm jealous. Maybe I'm craving a little normalcy—a little childhood in my life. Maybe I wanted the chance to try and ride every single ride at a scream park without throwing up. Maybe I wanted to go to a haunted maze where people dressed up as clowns and chased me with chainsaws.
Maybe… but that's not my life. That's never been my life. I have to worry about more realistic things, like what I'm going to say to Lydia and Jackson when they get here and find me waiting in Scott's house.
And then there are more natural dilemmas, like the growling in my stomach. I stopped in front of his fridge, looking over a note Scott's mother had pinned to the fake steel explaining she'd be at work late tonight. I didn't even pause before yanking the door open.
Plenty of drinks, but I chose a bottle of water. I almost shut it, but then my eyes snagged on the white cardboard of Chinese take out and I hesitated.
Should I?
I turned around, box in hand, and peeked inside. Chicken lo mein. I raised my eyebrows appreciatively and began to rifle through their drawers, searching for a fork, when I heard the front door open. Feet shuffled across the wooden floors, and then the door quickly shut again. The sound of the lock turning in the door followed almost as soon as it closed.
"Uhh… there's been a few break-ins around the neighborhood." Stiles' voice trickled through the walls, and I smirked at his lame excuse. Curious as to why he would say that, I continued to chomp away at Scott's food and strolled through the hall.
I paused in the doorway and playfully pursed my lips as Lydia jumped in surprise at my sudden appearance. Emotions flitted across her open, pretty face—first fright, and then confusion.
"Break-ins?" I mused, glancing around as the other four twirled around to gawk at me. "Hmph. That's strange... the door was unlocked when I tried it. Kinda hard to break in when it's wide open." I raised the fork to my mouth innocently.
"You!" Jackson growled, taking a measured step away from me even though I was across the room. His lip was curled in disgust; his fists clenched outrage and cheeks turning pink from outrage. "What is she doing here?"
"Are you eating Scott's food?" Stiles suddenly asked, and I winked at him. Allison stayed quietly in the back, watching all of this unfold with a measured gaze.
"I was just going to ask the same question," Lydia hissed, her eyes flitting accusingly between Jackson and I.
"Yes I am eating Scott's food." I smirked brightly at Lydia, knowing that she meant she agreed with Jackson's question. "Why, did you want some?"
She reared back like she was about to let me know exactly how little she cared about what I was or was not consuming, when Jackson interrupted her. "Never mind that! This wasn't part of the plan," Jackson threw an acidic, accusatory glare at Stiles, who had remained quiet after his silly question since he had no clue what I planned my excuse to be.
"I'm waiting for someone," I vaguely replied, turning to retreat farther into the kitchen as I continued to eat.
"Who?" Jackson snapped, apparently not content with that response as he shoved past Stiles to get answers from me.
"Um," I feigned confusion, glancing around the kitchen. "Wait a minute… is this not Scott's house? Did I come to the wrong address?"
"Why are you waiting for Scott? Is stealing one boyfriend not enough for you? And since when do you set your aim so high—"
As Lydia yammered on, I raised my eyebrows silently at Stiles when he trailed in behind them, mutely mocking his choice in women. His eyebrows twitched, which I knew was his silent way of telling me to can it, and I smirked before refocusing on Lydia.
"I'm sorry, what was that last part? Trying to concentrate on what you say through the sound of your voice is like—trying to read a chalkboard while someone scrapes their nails down it."
Her mouth popped open, apparently surprised by that particular insult, and I felt a small surge of victory.
"All right," Stiles cut in between us, rushing up to me and giving me a short-lived death glare as he turned back to Lydia. "She's probably here to… ah, Savannah, why don't you tell them?"
I took a challenging step towards Lydia, "I'm here to—"
"She's here because I asked her to be." Allison suddenly declared.
"What?" Lydia's voice was the epitome of a hiss. She rounded on Allison like she'd just announced that she the school was employing a new dress code. "That's not possible," She denied, her voice shrill in its slightly psychotic tone. "That's not possible because you know how I feel about her! And you're my best friend! So I know you would never—"
"See?" Allison snapped, surprising Lydia enough for her to snap her mouth shut. "This is why. I'm tired of feeling like I have to choose a side all the time! Guess what, Lydia? I happen to like Savannah."
"You what?" Jackson sneered.
I glanced at him, my jaw slightly slack. "Yeah, you what?"
Allison continued as if it had been Lydia to ask the questions. "She's not afraid to speak her mind, and she stands by what she believes in. She's the toughest girl I know, and she's the only person I've met who's unafraid of making the hard calls—while still having the conscience to recognize that they're wrong."
Um. Thanks? I think.
Silence descended on Scott's house, as we all fumbled over ourselves and tried to form a coherent thought.
"She—she attacked me!" Jackson seethed.
"You provoked her," Allison easily dismissed, and I couldn't help but stare at her in a stunned silence. Jackson straightened, immediately glancing over at Lydia as if caught red handed. I watched in fascination as Allison took another step forward. "I heard from Danny what you said to her. I'm not saying it was right, but I think it's fair to say that it was justified."
"This is just great," Jackson sneered, backing away towards the hallway. "You can all hold hands and pretend nothing's wrong, but as long as she's here, I'm leaving!"
I rolled my eyes to the ceiling and sighed. This is not going well.
"Jackson!" Lydia cried, scrambling after him in her heels. "Wait for me!" My eye twitched as I watched Stiles chase after her.
"Guys, don't leave! You can't—" His voice faded a bit as they rushed into the foyer, and I turned my attention onto Allison.
"Well," I said, amusement dancing in my voice. "I had no idea you had such a girl crush on me."
She rolled her eyes. "We're here for a reason." She set her bag down and came to join me at the kitchen table. I wasn't sitting, but I did still have the take out in my hands, and I stood behind it. "I can still change my mind about you."
I sighed and dug through the noodles. "You probably will." The chair squeaked as I pulled it out and plopped down, stuffing a knot of food into my mouth.
"How can you eat that cold?" Her nose wrinkled and I chewed thoughtfully.
"The same way I eat everything else," I said, mouth full, and the tiniest smile played at her lips.
"Smart ass."
Swallowing, I set the carton down and shifted. "So, who do you think it is?"
She blinked at me. I raised my eyebrows, and understanding dawned on her face. She sent me a dark look. "I'm not going to talk about that like it's some game."
I put my hands up. "Whoa, whoa, whoa, Ally," Her eyes narrowed the nickname. "All I did was ask a simple question." She looked away, apparently disinterested to engage with my witty, provoking conversation. I looked at the doorway for a moment before speaking again. "So, just so we're clear, that means you won't take my hundred bucks on Jackson?"
She turned back, probably to yell at me, but I turned towards the doorway. "I definitely wouldn't bet against Jackson," Stiles advised, wagging his finger at Allison as he walked back into the kitchen. "Because you'll lose."
"Ah," I glanced over his shoulder. "Tweedle-Dee and Tweedle-Dum in the other room?"
Stiles sighed and pulled out the chair next to Allison. "Somehow, I managed to convince them to stay, but they only agreed as long as you stay in here."
"Joke's on them!" I swiped up the container of lo mein and began to pile it on my fork again. "This is where the food is at."
"Well, I think Jackson needed to talk to her anyways," Allison sighed and I watched the conflicting emotions project across Stiles' face.
"Lovers' quarrel," I deduced, taking another bite. "Best to stay out of it."
Stiles mumbled something, standing to go look out the window. Allison and I exchanged a secretive, amused grin and I looked back to the food.
"Awww," I pouted. "It's empty!"
"Well it wasn't yours to begin with," Stiles observed from his spot at the window. He pulled a curtain back and looked around, his nose practically pressing into the glass as his breath fogged it up.
"Pshaw," I dismissed, waving him off. "Finder's keepers."
"I don't think that rule applies here," Allison good-naturedly interjected. I gave her my best withering look, but she seemed rather unaffected.
"Of course it does. I found this, unclaimed, up for grabs in their fridge."
"In their fridge. In their private kitchen. In their locked house." Stiles leaned away momentarily to send me a meaningful look. "It doesn't apply here." I scowled at him and he leaned forward to continue watching. "You know, I think I'm beginning to see why your morals are so skewed. You never—"
I jerked up, the chair screeching against the hardwood. Stiles and Allison both whirled around to give me wide-eyed looks.
"What?"
"It was a joke—"
"They're here." I quickly crossed the distance to the window and shoved Stiles' head out of the way. He grunted under my hand and batted at my arm, and I scanned the yard. There. "Looks like they all came…"
My jaw clenched when I saw Derek's form leading them away from his car, up the sidewalk, and I hastily stepped away from the window. I turned without a word and began to march into the foyer.
"Wait, Savannah! What are you doing?"
"Getting a better look," I called, and pulled the slender curtain aside that covered each window on either side of the door.
"Do they know we're here?" Isaac asked, and I set my jaw as I breathed out through my nose when they came to a stop just at the foot of the steps. I let the curtain fall and took a step back.
"What are they saying?" Allison whispered, right as Boyd spoke. I hissed at them to keep quiet and closed my eyes, straining my ears.
"They know." Derek's tone was that of certainty, leaving no shadow of a doubt.
Isaac's turn, "Well Erica and I should go in first, so—"
"No!" I could faintly hear the sound of a hand grasping leather, and Isaac's grunt as Derek yanked him into place. "You'll go when I say, and not before."
"Why?" Erica scoffed. "They've trapped themselves in there! They're fish in a barrel."
"Savannah is in there." I could hear the scowl on Derek's face, and I didn't have to look to know that Erica sneered.
"So what?"
"So, we wait."
"What are they waiting for?" Stiles murmured, leaning over my shoulder so he could look outside. "They're just standing there!"
I frowned, blinking at Derek as he peered up at the door—and I swear he looked me dead in the eye. I clenched my jaw and stepped away. "I'm not sure." I held my hand up to signal them to be quiet as I struggled to listen for more, but the pack had deliberately lowered their voices to make it hard for me to overhear them.
Are they waiting for me? Do they think if they stand out there long enough, I'll come charging outside? Because I might.
"Are they trying to intimidate us?" Allison frowned, and I glanced over at her briefly.
"…I'm not sure." I repeated, and Stiles grunted impatiently.
"Come on, Savannah! You know them. You know Derek! What are they planning?"
I licked my lips and shifted on my feet, peeking through the curtain but not touching it. I stared at it for a few moments as I struggled to gather my jumbled thoughts before running an anxious hand through my hair. "It doesn't seem like they're trying to scare us. If they were trying to scare us, they'd be banging on the doors, or the roof, or the walls, or throwing things through the windows."
Allison and Stiles shared a disturbed look, as we were all painfully reminded just how differently my mind works from theirs. I cleared my throat before continuing. "It seems like—almost like…"
"Like what?" Stiles prodded.
I looked back at his frowning face. "Like they're waiting for someone."
"What, you mean like someone new?"
"Scott, maybe." Stiles suggested, and Allison's mouth formed a small 'o'.
"No, it's more like… they're waiting for one of us."
Stiles mouth hooked to the side, that signature expression that the Stilinskis shared. "You?" He bluntly asked.
I gazed through the window again, straining my ears, only to hear their faint murmurings. "Probably not… Maybe the Kanima."
We all paused at that thought. If I applied what I knew of Derek, it seems like he would have tried to send one of us in by now. He wouldn't just crash in all at once—I mean, that would be dramatic, but the distinctly wrong kind of dramatic for Derek's taste.
No, no. He would want to drag this out. He wants to test the newbies, to see if they can accomplish the seemingly simple task of going into a house and extracting a human. Surely, if he sends in two, it should get done.
And had I been with them, it probably would've by now. But I'm not. I'm in here. And that probably explains the reason he's not sent anyone yet. In fact, he said so himself. Or, he sort of did—in his Derek way, which means… he didn't say a damn thing. But if you know him like I do, you learn to read his actions. I might not know his thoughts, or even his motivations, but I can see his actions, and I can deduce a few options for what he might be planning.
Right now, I'm an unforeseen complication. When he'd planned this whole thing, he'd probably been banking on the assumption that I would be there to back him up, or trapped in detention. But since I've, ah, switched teams essentially, I've really thrown a wrench in his plans. Ironic, isn't it? If only he'd told me his plans from the beginning—maybe things wouldn't have turned out the way they are. Maybe he wouldn't be out there, and I wouldn't be in here.
I focused on my hearing. They were quiet now, truly waiting for something. I tugged the curtain back and peered out.
Isaac stood apart from Boyd and Erica a bit, looking at Derek briefly before glancing up at Scott's house.
I sighed and ran a hand over my hair, leaning back. "Whatever they're doing, it seems like they'll be there until something changes."
Moving away from the window, I suddenly stepped across the foyer.
"Savannah!" Stiles called, scrambling behind me. I kept walking until he grabbed my arm. "Where are you going!? We have to watch them!"
I sighed. "Look, if they want to get in here, they're getting in here. The only thing we have to do right now is wait for them to make the first move, and be prepared for when they do come knocking. Which means, if I'm still hungry, I should probably go find a snack—because this could take a while."
"But—" Stiles flailed weakly, gesturing between the door and me. "They're out there!"
"Yes," I patiently cooed at him, and he scowled. "That's right! They're out there, and we're in here." I looked away and shrugged. "That's all… for now."
He sighed and sent a troubled look to the door. "I don't like this."
"Yeah? Me either. But that's the way it is. Now, if you'll excuse me, I believe I can hear a cup of yogurt calling my name…"
This time when I stepped away, he didn't stop me. I went to the fridge and pulled out a blueberry flavored, low calorie package of yogurt out. As I ate, I settled at the dining table and mulled over the pack waiting outside.
Several minutes passed. The clock said it was about half an hour, but it felt like ages. Lydia and Jackson were still holed up in another part of the house, having a domestic dispute, I think, and I had long ago thrown the cup of yogurt away.
Why hasn't Derek sent someone in by now? It doesn't seem right. It doesn't make any sense.
I overheard Allison tell Stiles she was considering calling her dad, and quickly shot out of my chair. But when I moved out from around the table, a scent caught my nose. I frowned and turned towards the back door.
"Savannah!" Allison called, stomping into the kitchen. I raised my eyebrows at her, my eyes falling to her small crossbow, and I realized she seemed pretty annoyed. "Do something! They've been standing out there for almost thirty minutes. This is ridiculous!"
I threw my hands out, a tight, insincere smile making its way onto my face. "And just what is it that you suggest I should do, Allison?"
"I don't know! Go out there? Try to talk them down?"
"The only thing that would do is take one more defense out of here. Is that really what you want?"
"No, but maybe—maybe that's what needs to happen! Maybe Derek's been waiting for you to come out there!"
"Why would he do that?" I frowned, as Stiles suddenly appeared in the doorframe.
"Uh, guys," Stiles calmly interjected.
"I don't know, Savannah, you tell me!" She continued, her gaze uncharacteristically annoyed.
"What, don't tell me you think I'm with them?"
Her eyebrow cocked challengingly at me, and I stiffened in indignation.
"Don't be ridiculous!"
"Guys, I counted twice, and there are only three people out there."
Allison and I paused, turning to give Stiles our undivided attention. He blinked at the abrupt topic change that he'd caused, and Allison rushed towards the foyer and demanded that he show her what he meant by only three.
I started to follow them, but that same scent from before caught my attention. Just before I crossed the threshold of the kitchen into the foyer, I turned my head slowly and looked at the source of the new, sort of excited heart-rate.
"Aha, Isaac." I said, lowly. Distrustfully. "There you are."
