Author's Note: GUYS WHY DON'T YOU CARE ABOUT THIS STORY ANYMORE? WHAT AM I DOING WRONG? Anyway, thank you so much to SilverAdvenger12 and AnSDtwiHard for reviewing, you guys are awesome. Also Lycan Lover 411, you review consistently and are awesome. Hope you all like this.

Chapter 11

Stiles, Scott, Amy, Isaac, and Derek did not go straight home. Instead, Derek brought Isaac to the abandoned subway train they had used during the full moon, where he would be able to avoid police capture. Isaac didn't protest – he trusted Stiles when he told them that the first place his father was going to look for him was Derek's apartment. So, he remained banished beneath Beacon Hills, left alone with only Derek's promise that he would visit him in the morning to comfort him.

Sure enough, shortly after Amy and Derek did return home in the middle of the night, Sheriff Stilinski and several other officers showed up at their doorstep. The sheriff was courteous to Amy and harsh to Derek and it was only after he had thoroughly scoured the apartment that he left begrudgingly. They were relieved to see him go, naturally, but the fact that he had so promptly implicated them in Isaac's disappearance was troubling. It was going to be a great deal of effort to cover their tracks from the police, it seemed.

THE NEXT MORNING

With Isaac on the run from the law, Jackson dead, and Lydia in the process of moving to Europe, Amy decided it was high time she return to Beacon Hills High. Things were so chaotic – she figured her own drama would be too far past to be of any interest. Students had probably forgotten all about the fact that she had been brutally stabbed (by the principal, no less! But they were ignorant of that particularly juicy detail…) and that she would be able to slip back into class well under the radar. Plus, despite the fact that she had already been accepted to college, she didn't think Cornell would take too kindly to any more absences on her part. And she had to admit, she did miss having a stable routine.

But, as she awoke that weekday morning and headed straight to the bathroom to get ready, she was struck with a fresh wave of paranoia and terror. So much for escaping drama… This drama, though it was laughably mundane compared to everything else she had been forced to endure during the last few months, was no less horrifying.

She was… two days late. Now normally, for someone else, this might not have been an issue. But Amy's monthly gift was always exactly on time. Always. She could have set a clock by it. And so she was, understandably, deeply concerned – especially when she took into consideration what she had been doing the week leading up to the full moon. Simple logic dictated that the probability of getting pregnant increased the number of times you had sex, and she and Derek had certainly provided a great number of opportunities for something to go wrong.

Of course, they always used condoms. Always. Derek was just as conscientious in this matter as she was, if not more so. But, as she'd learned in middle school health class, condoms were not completely foolproof and could, in obscenely unlucky cases, break or otherwise malfunction. And, nearly every time, they'd been in such a frenzy that they hadn't really been checking to make sure that everything was shipshape down there and they hadn't exactly been gentle. A fatal tear was not out of the question.

What she didknow was that it was too early to take a test, so she would have to wait it out for another couple of days if she wanted an accurate result, and she definitely knew that waiting would be torturous.

She showered unhappily and attempted to beautify herself in the mirror, but her mind was too clouded with worry to be made to care about anything but the issue at hand. You're probably fine, she told herself. She couldn't help but suspect that she was overreacting. But what if she wasn't? What if she really was… Amy gulped heavily, unable to even bring herself to think of the word.

After cramming her makeup back into her travel bag with a misplaced sort of aggression, she slipped out of the bathroom.

"I'm heading to school," she informed Derek, giving him a quick peck on the cheek as she left in a flurry.

Before she could make it to the door, however, he caught her wrist and tugged her back towards him. "Whoa, whoa, whoa, wait a second – is everything okay?" His thick brows knitted together as he heard her heart thump irregularly, a telltale sign of crippling anxiety.

In the safety of her own mind, Amy screamed a string of vulgarities – she knew he would be able to tell that something was bothering her right away, which was why she'd been in such a rush to leave. "Everything is fine," she lied, tilting her head in false puzzlement. "I've gotta go, though, I'm already late."

He reluctantly watched her leave; he was dissatisfied with how quickly she dismissed his concern, but let her go nevertheless. Perhaps the nervousness he'd sensed was merely a result of the typical first-day-of-school syndrome.

At school, she was greeted by the odd student here and there asking her how she was doing. The teachers, naturally, all expressed their concern and condolences. She kept these conversations cordial, but concise; she really didn't have time for pleasantries with everything else she was juggling. She certainly wasn't coming back to school for social reasons.

She was, however, very interested in talking to Lydia.

"I'm leaving at the end of the week," the strawberry-blonde casually informed her over a meager lunch of mixed greens and ice tea. The others – Scott, Stiles, and Allison – were also at the table, but they had already heard Lydia's goodbye speech, if it could be called such.

"You're leaving… permanently?" Amy's tone begged for clarification, despite the fact that Allison had already debriefed her on the situation.

"Yes," she confirmed. "At least until I finish college. Then, who knows…"

"You're going alone?"

"Yes."

"Aren't you going miss your parents?"

"I'll live."

This rapid-fire Q&A came to an abrupt pause as Amy gnawed thoughtfully on a Golden Delicious apple. After she had swallowed a bite of the juicy fruit, she mused, "Paris is a long ways away."

"I'm aware. That's kind of the point."

Stiles looked particularly crestfallen at this comment, but regarded Lydia only with a pining, sidelong glance. Scott shot him a sympathetic look from across the table; it seemed quite clear that Stiles and Lydia were not destined for one another, after all. Amy was sure she was not alone in her hope that he would be able to move on quickly and without being too heartbroken.

"Well," she said finally, "We'll miss you."

"I'll miss you too," she conceded with an unexpected sigh. "But it's not forever. And you guys can come visit."

"We would love to," Allison piped in cheerily in an attempt to raise everyone's spirits. "I'd like to spend a semester abroad in Paris, actually."

"Perfect! So it won't be too long before our paths cross again," Lydia stated.

"But first I have to get into college…" she reflected rather morosely.

"Your grades are perfect! Trust me, you'll get into college," Scott scoffed. "I'm the one who should be worried."

"You'll be fine, dude," Stiles reassured him. It was strange that he'd gone so long without speaking. "You're amazing at lacrosse, you'll be fine. You'll probably even get a scholarship." He was about to go into how he should be the one to be worried, what with his lack of academic and athletic prowess, but he thought better of it at the last moment – he didn't want the conversation to degrade into a competition of self-pity. Instead, he drowned his misgivings in a long swig of Fanta, which he would have gratefully exchanged for something a bit stronger.

After lunch, Amy, Lydia, and Allison headed to the lavatory for their pre-class grooming routine. What they did in there for a solid ten minutes was an utter mystery to Scott and Stiles, and they liked to keep it this way.

"Guys, I kind of have a problem," Amy mumbled as she fixed her hair over the sink.

"What is it?" Allison questioned.

"My period is late…"

Lydia and Allison, wide-eyed, looked at one another in an understanding sort of dismay. They were no strangers to pregnancy scares.

"How late?" Lydia asked scientifically.

"… Only two days. But that's a lot for me," she added. As Lydia made her feel more and more irrational, her desire to justify herself became increasingly pressing.

"That's nothing," the other girl dismissed haphazardly. "Worry after it's been a week." She seemed visibly relieved as she reapplied her lip-gloss. Amy did not share her sentiments.

Allison, a bit more compassionate, tried, "You could always take a test if you're really worried."

"It's too soon since… you know… to take a test."

"Do you have any reason to believe that something went wrong?" Lydia demanded, hands on her hips.

"No, but – "

"You're fine," she cut her off. "Stop being paranoid. Are you on the pill?"

"No…" At this, the other two seemed mildly surprised. "Are you?" she countered in response to their expressions. Both girls nodded and Amy suddenly felt like she'd missed some sort of vital memo.

"Still," Lydia continued, "you should be fine if you used a condom."

A dark blush overtook her face as she sputtered, "We did!" Even though Lydia and Allison were two of her closest friends, she couldn't believe she was having this conversation. Derek would balk if he knew these girls were privy to the details of his sex-life.

"Then you really shouldn't worry," Allison soothed.

"Maybe you're right…" Amy allowed. But she just couldn't seem to shake the panicked feeling in the back of her mind. She wondered if there was such a thing as being a hypochondriac, but only about pregnancy. Truthfully, she didn't even want to go through the humiliation of buying a test – she barely looked her age and she knew the cashier would give her a knowing, judge-y look, and she didn't think she could survive it. If it came to that, she might force one of them to buy it for her. That's what friends were for, right?

Amy studied herself hard in the mirror; for a moment, it seemed ludicrous that she was stressing about something so ordinary. What would Derek say? Such fears probably weren't even in the scope of things he thought about. But she was aware that if she continued to fret, he would know something was up – in fact, he had already grown suspicious. And from that point, it was only a matter of guessing what the problem was and there were a limited number of possibilities. She didn't want to burden him with yet another worry, but she also didn't think she could hide it from him for very long.

Because of this, she was dreading going home. The more she spoke to him, the higher risk of him finding out became. Not that there was anything to "find out," at least not really. Her issue was still in the formative stages of its development, and hadn't yet become a legitimate cause for distress. She only prayed that her paranoia would prove to be just that – paranoia – and that it would happen sooner rather than later. For now, only time would tell.

Author's Note: THIS CHAPTER IS A CRY FOR HELP/ATTENTION PLEASE LET ME KNOW WHAT YOU THINK. Sorry, I'm being over-dramatic. But seriously, please review! This is important! Also, random fact, Dylan O'Brien (Stiles) and Kaya Scodelario (Amy) are actually going to be in a movie together IRL, can you believe that? What are the odds? Crazy crazy. Anyway, REVIEW.