Chapter 8: Frenemy

Greetings, my wonderful readers! A couple things about this chapter. First, it may seem a bit rushed based on the fact that Frenemy was very short and I haven't written a chapter that short since my Jonas Brothers FF writing stage. Plus I have plans. Big plans. So if it seemed a little clipped, just let me know and I'll clean it up so it'll flow a little easier.

"Ugh, I can't believe Stiles has me out here bringing Jackass the killer psycho lizard freakin' sandwiches," I mumbled under my breath. After the entire Kanima reveal, I bailed before Sheriff Stilinski got there. He might think I'm a delinquent. He's not completely wrong, but hey, why prove him right?

Anyway, Stiles had come over bright (it wasn't really that bright considering he showed up at the ass crack of dawn) and early and explained how he and Scott tracked Jackson down after we all bailed last night.

I only caught bits and pieces of the story until he dropped the bomb on me. This kid had Jackson shackled in the back of one of his dad's police prison transport vans. Now I'm still not sure if Sheriff Stilinski has poor deduction skills or if Stiles is getting really good at this whole shindig.

Anyway, a 2 pound bag of Twizzlers and a lot of convincing later, I found myself skipping school and trudging through the woods, cursing Stiles under my breath. I tightened my grip on my backpack that was filled with a pair of stolen pants, sandwiches, water, some Emergen-C for this god awful cold I have, and my obnoxiously large bag of Twizzlers. I finally found (no thanks to Stiles poor directions) the police van with Stiles standing near it.

"Good morning, sunshine," Stiles greeted cheerfully.

"Yeah, what's so good about it?" I grumbled, shoving my backpack toward him. "Here's the stuff."

Stiles faltered under the sudden shove, but unfortunately kept his balance. "Thanks a ton."

I made a noise in response and turned to the van. "So, how'd you manage to commit grand theft auto?"

Stiles paused his shuffling through the bag to frown at me. "Uh, it's temporary misappropriated at the moment. It sounds bad when you say it the other way," he corrected. "And do you really wanna know?"

Honestly? No. If we got caught and Sheriff Stilinski started asking questions, I'd rather not know the answers instead of pretending I don't. "That's what I thought," he smirked and continued searching through my bag. "Where's his shirt?"

"Well..."

"Seriously?"

"What?"

"You didn't bother to bring a shirt because you wanna ogle at Jackson," Stiles accused.

"I would never do such a thing."

I would. And I did. I mean, something has to be in it for me, right?

"Whatever," Stiles mumbled, snatching the pair of pants I'd stolen from Matt. He stomped past me and disappeared into the back of the van.

"Good luck!"

I never made it to school thanks to Stiles coming up with reason any time I made a move to leave. To my surprise, Scott is actually in class. Kudos to him. Meanwhile Stiles kept a death grip on Jackson's phone and was it checking every free second while simultaneously keeping Scott and Allison updated.

"Hey, can I borrow your phone?" I asked breaking the silence between us.

Stiles eyed me quickly. "For what? Didn't you get a new phone last night?"

"I did," I said holding up the shiny, new device. After fleeing from Scott's house I made a pit stop at AT&T. Most of me really just wanted another phone to feed my Angry Birds addiction. And also because I keep finding myself in these life or death situations that require a phone. But mostly Angry Birds. "I just wanna make sure I have everyone's number."

Stiles dug out his phone out of his pocket and was just about to hand it over. "You're lying," he accused. I sent him an innocent, confused look. "You just wanna play Angry Birds because you don't want your battery to run out."

I scoffed in an offended manner. "I would never."

"You don't give me enough credit, Charlie," he began. "I know you a lot more than you think," he smirked, leaning against the side of the van. "Now, go home. I have this under control," he boasted.

"LET ME OUT STILINSKI! THIS ISN'T FUNNY!" Jackson yelled from inside the van.

"Oh, really?" I asked pointedly.

"Yes."

A loud bang from Jackson was followed by Stiles poor self-reassurance.

"Mhm, sure you do."

With an annoyed huff, Stiles handed me his phone and stomped away to disappear inside the van.

"Sucker," I smirked. I silently followed behind him and took a set on the cold metal beside Stiles. There was a beat of awkward silence while Jackson glared the two of us down. Stiles and I exchanged glances before I nodded at him. "You got this, remember?"

"Yeah, Stilinski. You wanna tell me exactly why the hell I'm in here?" Jackson said, his glaring not faltering. I pulled up Angry Birds on Stiles's phone and checked out of the conversation already knowing it was not going to be a productive one.

"You know, I put those pants on you, all right, buddy? One leg at a time. Being all up close and personal with your junk wasn't exactly a highlight of my day. So don't think this is fun for me either. You know we're actually doing you a favor?"

"This is doing me a favor?"

"Yes, because you're killing people to death," he quipped. And until we can figure out how to stop you, you're gonna stay in here. I'm sorry. Now, you want the ham and cheese, or the turkey club?"

"You really think my parents won't be out looking for me?"

"Uh, well not if they don't think anything's wrong. Yeah," Stiles answered, showing the text message he sent to Jackson's dad from Jackson's phone. So, it's official, Stiles is a criminal. And if he thinks I'm gonna be bringing him sandwiches in jail then he's got another thing coming.

Said criminal leaned back and kicked his feet up beside Jackson who was still, unsurprisingly, seething. "Let's see, you have scales—"

"Scales? Like a fish?"

"No, more like a reptile," Stiles and I corrected.

"Right, and paralytic slime that comes from your fingernails," I continued. "Eh, claws are a better word."

"Oh, and you have a tail," Stiles piped up.

"A tail," Jackson repeated.

"A tail."

"Does it do anything?"

"Does it…" Stiles asked turning to me. I, on the other hand, was too busy reaching a new high score rather than listen to Jackson's denial. "I don't think so."

"Can I use to strangle you?"

Well, I think that's my queue to step in. I handed off Stiles's phone back to him and sighed. The least I could do is referee until Scott and Allison get here so we all could make up a plan. "Look, clearly you don't believe us so what did you do the night after the semi-finals?"

"I went home."

"Are you sure about that?" Stiles asked.

"Yes, you idiot. What the hell else would I do?"

I shrugged before speaking up quietly. "Make a sex ta…" I trailed off. I got looks from both boys. "No? Okay."

"You attacked me, Derek, and Charlie at the school, and you trapped us in the pool. You almost killed Charlie in the process. You also killed a mechanic, right in front of us, by the way. That was lovely. And one of Argent's hunters. Oh, and last night, you tried to kill Danny."

"So, in summary, you're a psychotic lizard who murders people to death," I finished, repeating Stiles's main point. "Or at least with intentions to."

Jackson eyes me shortly before asking. "Why would I try to kill my own best friend?"

"That's what Scott's trying to figure out now," Stiles answered.

"Mm. Well, maybe, he should be trying to figure out is how he's going to pay for a lawyer when I prosecute your asses all the way to jail!"

Fair enough. Scott's one step away from becoming a convicted felon too.

"Alright, well, tell me this. After your bite, on the night of the first full moon, what happened?" Stiles asked.

"Nothing. Nothing happened," Jackson answered, finally slackening his stature.

"Well, how do you know that?" I asked.

Jackson frowned at me in response with his never ending glare. "What are you talking about?"

"You recorded yourself didn't you?"

"Yeah, but nothing happened," he repeated, growing agitated.

"Yeah, but how do you know that?"

Stiles threw up his hands and huffed. "Okay, I'm outta here," he declared, standing up to leave.

"No," I sighed, roughly pulling him back down. "If you don't remember being the Kanima then why would you possibly remember what happened on the night of the full moon when you first turned?"

"Because, Marley, nothing happened. Even on the stupid video."

"So, you want to explain to me why you, Danny, and my brother were hassling me about messing with that camera at the game the other night?" Jackson silently glared at me while an indifferent expression was etched on his face. "Figure out what's on that video, okay? We're just trying to help you." I looked at Stiles who looked hopelessly confused. Clearly, this was the first he had heard of this. "C'mon let's get outta here," I said, pushing Stiles toward the exit.

After temporarily blowing Jackson's mind, I moved to the front seat of the stolen police van to clear my head. I dropped a tablet of Emergen-C in a bottle of water an attempt to fight this stupid cold. I really should have opted for the gummies. They taste way better.

Unfortunately, Stiles went to go take a leak in the woods and he took his phone with him. With no Angry Birds or anyone to harass, I just resorted to snooping through the glove box.

God, there's nothing in here but zip ties and paperwork for days.

With an exaggerated sigh, I leaned back in my seat with my head back. All of a sudden, the right side of my ribs and waist started burning. Like ohmygod burning. I jumped up straight in my seat and promptly lifted my shirt up to check the area.

See? This is why I fucking hate just hanging out in the woods. Shit starts biting you and the next thing you know, you're a werewolf.

Just kidding, Scott.

Love ya like a brother.

Once I got a good angle on the burning area, I squinted and moved my head at an awkward angle to make sure what I was seeing was correct.

On the burning like hell area, there was this green, grayish tint to my skin. It looked like it was in the process of drying itself out, but I don't buy moisturizing body wash for my own entertainment.

"I thought Emergen-C was supposed to be good for you?"

Knock, knock, knock!

"Charlie!" Stiles yelled from the other side of the glass. I jumped with a start and scrambled to straighten my clothes back out. I saw Allison standing behind him with a worried expression etched on her face. He swung open my door and turned on the police radio. "All available units proceed to Beacon Hills Preserve as instructed. Proceed with caution until Sheriff Stilinski's arrival. Proceed with caution."

"They know!" He yelled. Clearly he wasn't aware he scared the bejesus outta me and had full intentions of continuing his yelling streak. Stiles hastily walked to the front of the van and hopped in the driver's side while I moved to the hump so Allison could take my spot. Once they were both seated, Stiles started the van and let down the window to toss Jackson's phone out.

A ton of questions reeled in my head before I settled on one. "Where are we going?"

"Far, far away from here."

After moving Jackson, I decided to head home for a bit. Plus, I wasn't really in the whole kidnapping-until-we-figure-out-a-real-plan mood. I could at least stay home long enough to show my face to my dad and Matt and then leave again to continue on with the current crime in motion. I huffed as I shut the door of the car that Matt and I begrudgingly shared. The same place on my ribs that was burning earlier began stinging and I defensively coddled the area.

"Took you long enough."

I jumped with a small start for the umpteenth time that day and glared over at Matt.

"Do you have to be on all the time?" I asked in an annoyed manner, dropping my hands in a poor attempt to look casual.

"Yes," he snapped. He stalked over with his right hand held open and waiting. "Now if you would kindly give me our keys." I eyed him quickly up and down before hovering the keys over his hand.

"What?" He groaned, rolling his eyes openly.

"You could say please," I shot back. "Instead of being rude about it."

"I don't know what you're talking about," he shrugged.

"This!" I yelled, gesturing to him. "This attitude and charade you've got going on. I don't like it."

"I don't like your friends, you don't see me complaining."

"That's all you ever complain about!"

"You too!"

"Because they're my friends," I stressed. "That's not even the point. The point is, is that you're the one who's walking around here like someone shoved a bat up your a-"

"Look, Charlie, I know you have a lot going on right now," he interrupted. "But I'm just having some issues with a...friend right now," he explained in a too-good-to-be-true calm voice. "Okay?"

I hesitated and eyed him silently. The vibe in the room felt off. A little forced. A little fibby. A little bit of this and that. Again, I was too tired and too behind on homework to question it. There was no telling how long the house would quiet enough for me to actually get some work done. "Okay." Was all I said before dropping the keys in hand.

He took off without another word.

I swear the older he gets, the weirder he gets.

Aaaand that's all folks. I have the next installment written, all I need is some feedback!