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NINE
Once again, my inability to face a problem head on had me avoiding Scott. Every time I heard him come home after lacrosse practice, I hurried to close my bedroom door. I skipped dinner or ate in my room. I made sure I was out of the house before he came down in the mornings. I double checked my classes to see if I was subbing for any of his teachers.
Yeah, not the best way to confront an issue. Not a sustainable solution. But my mind just couldn't handle the drama of a teenage werewolf's life. I had been in Beacon Hills for over three months now. The pile of money stashed in my underwear drawer was growing every week, and I knew that just a few more paychecks and I could afford first and last month's rent on an apartment somewhere. But if I was being honest, I was becoming comfortable with the mundane routine I had built in my childhood home. It was quiet, peaceful and simple. Wake up, work, come home, eat dinner in front of the TV, read a book and fall asleep.
Which is exactly why I needed to leave.
Comfort was the enemy. The moment I felt safe is the exact moment when the other shoe would drop. This house, this illusion of normalcy and safety was just that… and illusion. I had to keep moving. A few more weeks of subbing, a few more hundreds dollars and I'd be gone. And I vowed to keep a low profile in the meantime.
The soft thudding ring of the classroom phone shook me from my thoughts. I rolled my eyes and slammed my book closed. Some days, subbing was a breeze. This teacher only had 5 active classes while the other four were prep and lunch. Which means I had almost 4 hours of downtime. Before my life had imploded, I was a reader, a bookworm as dad would say. I was determined to get a small piece of myself back, and my love for books was the one thing I could easily control and feed.
I slugged my way to the phone near the door, knowing all too well that it was the main office looking for the teacher that's normally in this room, Mr. Bellis. But today, I was Mr. Bellis, which was sure to earn me an "oh, that's right. Sorry to bother you." from Jane, the administrative assistant. She was a sweet woman, but would lose her head if it wasn't attached.
"Hello." I answered dully.
"Hi there." Jane replied sweetly. "There's a call for you on line 6."
"This is Chelsea McCall." I laughed, thinking that she had me confused with someone else.
"Yes, I know that." She chuckled. "He asked for you specifically."
"Oh." my brows knitted together as I wondered who would be calling me at the school. "Thanks Jane."
It had to be someone from the hospital. I was mom's new emergency contact, and since my phone was usually off during the day (it's not like I had any social media to check anyway) so they wouldn't have been able to reach me there. Scott wouldn't call for me, he'd simply sniff me out… literally. Panic started to grip my chest while a millions terrible reasons for someone to call ran through my head. Car accident, work accident, heart attack, robbery. God, were they calling to tell me she was dead?
Why did my mind work that way?
"Hello?" I breathed into the receiver after pressing the flashing six button. When I heard no response, I repeated myself.
Still nothing.
Hastily, I hung up and darted to my bag to turn on my cell. I didn't want to call out on the school line in case she called back. My fingers punched in the number to the hospital and I held my breath until I finally heard my mother's voice.
"Beacon Hills Memor-"
"Mom!" I cut her off in a voice that was slightly too loud.
"Chels?" She sounded surprised to hear from me. "Oh, I'm glad you called." Her next sentence sounded less concerned and more excited. "I just had the strangest conversation with Allison's mom." She gave a breathy laugh. "She's… odd. I don't remember Allison being so weird. Do you? You'd know her better than I would. I think I met the girl maybe three times." She rambled on.
"Uh, no." I thought back to my very limited interactions with Scott's girlfriend. "She never seemed any weirder than Scott and Stiles. " We both laughed. "Is that what you called me for?"
"I-" Her reply was cut off when the door to the classroom swung open and a high tenor voice called out.
"McCall!"
My body reacted to the sudden noise in the only way it knew how to. I dropped the phone from my ear and took two large steps back, bracing myself against the bookshelf.
"Jesus Finnstock!" I breathed out on a quiet shout. My old teacher stood in the doorway, a smug grin smeared across his face.
"Jumpy little thing, aren't you?" he leaned further into the room, holding his body up with his hands on each side of the threshold.
"I'll talk to you later mom." I said into the phone after picking it back up off the floor. "Don't you knock?" I turned towards him.
"Uh, no." he said without emotion. "You're on lunch duty next period." It wasn't a question, it was a statement. And it was wrong.
"No," I shook my head and dug my class schedule out of my blue folder, the only thing I ever bring with me to the school besides my bag. "I have two preps in a row."
"Not anymore. You have lunch duty." he paused mischievously. "Unless you want little brother to run suicides for the next week."
"Are you trying to black mail me into taking your shift?" I shook my head, finally understanding. The smile that took over my lips couldn't be stopped. "You're unbelievable, you know that?"
"Yup." He nodded in my direction, a gesture I knew was meant was a thank you.
"Hey, Finnstock." I called when he started to walk back down the hall. "Make him run anyway."
"Planned on it." his head bobbed a few times in confirmation. How that man still had a job was beyond me, but I was glad he did. I didn't know many of the teachers in Beacon Hills anymore. And the ones I did know were casting disgusted looks my way whenever they got the chance. Could I blame them? I'd made their lives a living Hell for the two years I was in this school. Rumor has it, they threw a party when dad took me out of town.
Finnstock was the one friend, and I use that term very lightly, that I had in this town. Which is why I wasn't as annoyed as expected when it came time for me to stuff my book away and head towards the cafeteria.
Unlucky for me, seventh period was when Scott and Stiles had their lunch. So much for avoiding them until the end of time.
Lunch duty was easy. Stand in the corner, make sure no one dies, maybe score a free cookie if Edith (the absolute gem of a woman) was working. That was it. So, I anchored myself to an isolated spot near the back entrance of the cafeteria and leaned back against the wall. My eyes scanned the crowd of pubescent teenagers, easily spotting the back of my brother's shaggy head. God, the kid needs a haircut. He was a quarter inch away from a mullet.
Stiles came bustling up to the table, plopped himself into the empty seat and wiggled a pair of keys in front of Scott's face. I rolled my eyes at the two boys and their collective dorkiness. The noise in the room started to simmer down into almost utter silence. It was downright eerie.
All at once, every eye in the room was on the main doorway, where a bombshell of a blonde was walking in. Her long legs were tipped with black heels, and a mini skirt clung to her thighs. Blonde hair hung in curls down her back and her hips swayed seductively when with each long stride. Jesus, hasn't anyone heard of a dress code?
She strode up to some poor boy's table and took a bite out of his apple. There was something familiar about her that I couldn't place. I tapped one of the girls in front of me, one that had stopped mid step to stare at the blonde.
"Who is that?" I asked, nodding in the new girl's direction.
"It's… Erica?" The young girl seemed as confused as I was. Erica? Like the meek, shy Erica with the seizure warning next to her name that I'd had in class a handful of times? THAT could not be Erica. But sure enough, my brother and Stiles practically jumped out of their seats to follow her out of the building. Was it teenage hormones driving them, or something else?
Figuring the cafeteria could manage to survive without me for a whole thirty seconds, I followed the boys outside. Erica was nowhere to be seen, but Scott and Stiles still stood on the top step leading towards the school's main entrance. I waited for them to turn around, nearly bumping into me when they finally did.
"Please tell me that you ran after her because of raging teenage hormones." I folded my arms over my chest and waited for a reply.
"Derek turned her." Stiles answered almost immediately. Scott shot him a look of betrayal. "What?" Stiles shrugged. "She already knows the truth, might as well keep her in the loop."
"What do you mean Derek turned her?" I looked at Scott this time. I hadn't seen Derek since the morning he'd hid from my mom. He was a fugitive now. A wrongful title, but there wasn't much anyone could do to stop it.
"He… bit her. Turned her into a," he looked around and lowered his voice "werewolf. Just like he did with Issac."
It took a few seconds for his words to sink in. Derek was turning people? Purposefully changing human beings into… not human beings?
Issac Layhe was a name I'd heard muttered in the halls and the teachers' lounge for the past week. The boy's father was found murdered, and his son, the only suspect they had. I couldn't pull an image of his face to mind, but there had been an announcement that anyone with information on his whereabouts was to report it immediately.
I guess the two doe-eyed dopes in front of me hadn't heard the announcement.
Or better yet, they ignored it.
"What?" I whispered angrily, forcing my mind to focus on the bigger issue… God, there was something bigger than murder? Beacon Hills was a mess. "You're telling me that Derek is changing a bunch of kids into fucking monsters?" regret instantly overtook me when I saw Scott flinch at the last word. "Wait, no Scott." I tried to backtrack. "That's not what I meant. You're not…"
"It doesn't matter. We have to stop him." Scott interrupted me.
"How are we doing that?" I huddled closer to the boys once the bell rang and students began to file out of their rooms.
"We?" he raised an eyebrow. "You're not getting involved." The authority in his voice took me by surprise. "I've got this."
"Scott, you don't have to do this alone." Truth be told, I wanted nothing to do with this shit. I wanted a few more quiet weeks in Beacon Hills. I wanted a few more well endowed pay checks. I wanted to get the fuck out of dodge. But a part of me, a part buried deep down inside of my heart, yearned to do whatever I could to help Scott. Not just because it was the right thing to do, but because I felt as though it could make up for all the years I spent away. All the birthdays I've missed. All the girl drama (if there had been any), his first dance, his first lacrosse try out. I wasn't there to ward off the bullies, but I was here now.
"I'm not alone." he nudged Stiles in the ribs and the boy perked up, nodding his head enthusiastically.
"Yeah, that's right. He's got me." he gave Scott a sideways glance before adding "But a few more hands on deck couldn't hurt."
I smirked at his honesty, but Scott remained unamused. He simply shook his head and stormed off, Stiles following suit. I didn't like being ignored. And I didn't like being cast aside like a useless child… BY A CHILD no less.
From the top of the steps I could hear my mother and Scott talking in the kitchen. It was a nice surprise to have mom home for dinner. Since I've been in Beacon Hills, this would be the third time she was able to have an actual meal with us. The scent of tomato sauce wafted up the stairs, causing saliva to gather on my tongue. I slipped down the steps two at a time and paused for a moment before entering the kitchen.
"Coach made me run suicides the whole time." Scott complained and I couldn't stop the smile that crossed my face.
Finnstock.
"Maybe you're just a terrible player." I joked as I walked into the room. Mom dropped the pot of water she was filling in the sink with a quick yelp.
"What did you do?" She asked with her hand on her heart. "Teleport into the damn room?" I had clearly taken her by surprise. Scott and I chuckled as I moved around to take one of the unoccupied chairs.
"Payback for earlier." I snickered while she recovered her breath and started filling the pot once more.
"For what?" She asked incredulously.
"For calling me at the school today and hanging up." I sent her a pointed look. "I thought something was seriously wrong!" Scott poured tea from the pitcher into the empty glass at my seat.
"You called me." Mom had turned around to face us, leaning her lower back against the edge of the sink.
"I called you back." I put significant emphasis on the last word.
"I didn't call you." she smiled, finding the whole exchange comical.
But I was no longer smiling.
"Somebody called for me at the school." My mind began to spin. "A he.I assumed it was the hospital calling to tell something had happened."
"Nope. Wasn't anyone I know." She shrugged while she turned the knob on the stove to high.
The only people who would call me in the course of a day were my mother and Scott. My father didn't even know I was working at the school.I purposely had been keeping a low profile. No friends. No love interests. I hadn't even told dad where I was in case Dylan had called him searching for me…
My stomach turned.
How many times had I changed my number or accidentally broken my phone to escape the onslaught of phone calls? How many times had I answered the phone to hear nothing but his breath on the other end? How many times had he found me?
"Chels?" Mom tried to get my attention, but my mind was on fire.
If Dylan hadn't known where I was before, if my suspicions were right, he did now.
"I think I need to talk to Stalinski now."