((hey guys! ive been so busy these past couple of days and had nooo time to write at all. i wanna thank everyone whos reviewed and read so far, and keep the reviews coming! im gonna try to start replying to ppl who review, so here we go!
cecld16: no, i don't think it has something to do with daisy, honestly i just wanted to show just how stressed out scott was, with the argent stuff just ending and the kanima all at once. the show didn't really show just how stressed he was at the beginning of this season, like any teen would be, so i wanted to elaborate on that
Hurricane.'97: thank you! i hope you like this new chapter!
please review guys! heres chapter 8!))
Chapter Eight
Their story left her speechless. Werewolves… they couldn't be real. It's impossible.
Daisy's definition of impossible seemed blurred when she analyzed what happened in the pool.
That lizard thing. A Kanima. It certainly wasn't human. If that thing was real, who's to say that werewolves aren't? Her thoughts became mashed together, different ideas clashing in fits of conflicting emotion.
She sat silent for an extended period of time, brown eyes not looking anywhere besides the dashboard in front of her. She felt eyes on her, felt the boys' anxiousness as they waited for her reaction.
Five minutes passed until she finally spoke.
"What kind of idiot decides to go looking for a body in the middle of the night?"
The car jerked slightly and Daisy heard a surprised noise from behind her. "S-So you… really believe us? About everything?" Scott turned his head to face her, big brown eyes wide with unmasked hope. A hand reached out from over the glove department and pushed against Scotts face, making it move so he was facing forward. "Eyes on the road buddy." Stiles said in muted alarm.
The dancer explained her logic, "Yes. I think. I just… never thought any of this could ever be real, I guess? I don't know. I'm sort of, really, freaking out right now?" She lowered her head into her hands, taking a deep breath. "I just need to go home and think. Also sleep. Hopefully."
Probably not.
'Probably' became 'Most definitely', Daisy found out, as she had to push herself to get out of bed and ready for school the next morning. She could barely keep her eyes open when she slipped into English, moving to sit behind, and one seat over from Scott. When she threw her books down next to her, the boy whipped around and gave her a look, eyes wide, head nudging to the side slightly. The dancer felt like he was trying to tell her something, but she was just too tired to comprehend.
Looking to the direction he was nodding to, her eyes stopped at the desk in front of her and she sat up quickly. The night before, in the car, Scott and Stiles told her about every werewolf at the school, and all the things that go bump in the night. One they spoke of was Issac, the kid who got arrested for killing his dad and then escaped from holding the night she registered for school.
Issac was wanted, so he wouldn't be seen in public for a while, the boys told her.
Taking a sharp breath through her nose, she tensed, her now more aware senses noticing just how thick the air was in their little circle of desks.
Sitting right in front of her, was Issac Lahey. The kid who was supposed to be in hiding.
Great.
Stiles flew into the room and threw himself into his seat, leaning over the desk dangerously.
"Just talked to my dad. Who just talked to Jackson." He said, alarmed. "I've got really bad, terrible, horrible, very bad news."
Scott turned his head slightly, lifting an arm and gesturing in front of Daisy. "I..I think I already know."
"Alright so we found one thing online called a kanima," Stiles started in a low voice once class ended, "it's a were-jaguar from South America that goes after murderers." Scott looked on, as if he was trying to process the information. Daisy furrowed her eyebrows, walking at a slow pace next to the two. Murderers?
"That thing was not a jaguar." Scott said after a moment, looking to Daisy, on the other side of Stiles, for confirmation. The dancer shrugged with a small nod.
"Yeah? Well I'm not exactly a murderer, Scott. Neither is Daisy, right?" Stiles turned to her and motioned for her to agree. Daisy pretended to inspect her chipped nail polish, ears seemingly deaf to the question. Stiles went back to his conversation with Scott, looking at the teen dancer from the corner of his eye.
"If you did see it try to kill somebody, and that's why it tried to kill you, and it still tried to kill you," Scott struggled to come up with an explanation, "then it probably won't stop until your dead." Stiles stopped, staring at the back of the werewolves head.
He scowled slightly. "You know, sometimes, I'm really starting to question this 'friendship'." Stiles said with furious hand gestures. Daisy snorted slightly, pausing momentarily so he could catch up.
They walked together to their next class, Daisy sitting behind Stiles just as the bell was ringing. She looked up from digging through her bag when she heard someone sit in the desk next to her. It was Jackson.
"Hey, testicals Left and Right," Jackson said, leaning forward slightly. Both Stiles and Scott tensed, showing that they heard him. "What the hell is a 'kanima'?"
The three teens whipped their heads around and stared at the lacrosse co-captain. Jackson seemed a little surprised to have Daisy acknowledge the word with the same reaction as the dorks in front of him.
The staring match went on for a few seconds until Finstock came in, slamming a book onto his desk. The loud noise made Daisy jump and turn to face the front of the room. "Alright, listen," he started in his loud, authoritative voice, that gave Daisy a headache after ten minutes of listening to it.
"Quick warning before we begin our review. Some of you, like Mcall," the mention of his name brought Scott's attention to the teacher, staring on with furrowed brows. "…might wanna start their own study groups because tomorrows mid-term is so profoundly difficult," he laughed, "I'm not even sure I can pass it."
Scott turned back around once the lesson started and Daisy scrunched up her nose in distaste at the idea of a large test. Her attention was brought back to Jackson when he started talking.
"Paralyzed. From the neck down. Do you have any idea how that feels like?" He asked angrily.
"I'm familiar with the sensation." Stiles said, very little sarcasm evident in his voice. Daisy looked over to him with surprise. When was he paralyzed? It wasn't at the pool…
Jackson looked at him with an emotionless expression, thinking the other teen was just joking around.
"Why..Why would Derek test you? Why would he think that it's you?" Scott asked.
"How should I know?" Jackson asked. The anger in his voice seemed to seep away into some form of desperation.
"Wait… do they think its Lydia?" Stiles' eyes were wide with fear. Daisy froze at the possibility.
"All I heard was her name and something about chemistr-"
"JACKSON." Daisy jumped at the booming call, not even realizing that Coach had been walking up to them. She put a palm over her chest, as if it could slow the pace of her fast-beating heart.
"Do you have something you'd like to share with the rest of the class?" Scott and Stiles turned around slowly, eyes downcast, while Daisy found a new interest in the clock hanging on the wall in front of her.
"Uhhh…" Jackson searched for the right words. "J-Just an undying admiration for my- for my coach." Nice save, buddy.
Coach laughed, somewhat sarcastically. "That's really kind of you."
Jackson looked proud at the recognition.
"Now shut up! Shut it." Stiles tapped his pencil on the desk. "Anybody else?" Finstock asked, and Daisy assumed he was asking if anyone else wanted to be humiliated in front of the class.
Obviously, no one answered that call.
Once his back was to the group, Scott turned to Stiles and pulled him down by his hood to whispering level. "How do we know it's not her?"
Stiles rolled his eyes. "Because I looked into the eyes of that thing, okay? And I saw what was pure evil. And when I look into Lydia's eyes, I only see 50% evil." He sat up straight again, looking down at his book. He tilted his head, thinking. "Alright..maybe 60. But! But no more than 40 on a good day."
"Stiles…" Scott started gently. "That's not a very good argument."
Said boy sighed, looking a little more defeated than he did a minute prior. "I'm aware of that but… I swear it's not her. It can't be, alright? Lydia's fine." The 'I hope' went unsaid.
Daisy began to copy what was in her book, deciding to pay attention to the boring stuff in sake of her grade. Plus, she didn't want to think about the possibility of one of her new friends being a large evil snake thing.
A minute or two went by before she heard the shout from up at the board. Head whipping up, she saw Lydia standing in front of the board, piece of chalk in her hand. Behind her were words written backwards in large letters.
Someone help me.
She squeezed her eyes shut, turning her head different directions as tears started falling from closed lids.
Daisy made a move to get up and help, but Stiles grabbed her wrist before she could get out of her seat. She looked over to him, but he was only looking at Lydia. Her eyes shot open and Coach went to stand in front of her. "Uh, alright…. You're…okay. Anyone else wanna try and answer? This time, in English?"
Laughter erupted from the class and Daisy scowled. That was enough. Shaking Stiles' grip off of her wrist, she stood, stomping toward the front of the class, walking up to a helpless looking Lydia, whom was only standing there, half frozen in confusion. Finstock looked down at the dancer, as if daring her to say anything.
Daisy moved and stood next to a shaking Lydia who was only staring at the words she written, like she didn't realize she had written at all. The dark haired girl lead the other back to her seat, glaring at everyone as she did so.
When she got back to her seat behind Stiles and sat, Daisy shivered. Lydia usually walked with confidence and pride, but then, she followed Daisy like a zombie.
The following classes were a blur to Daisy. She couldn't stop worrying about Lydia after Scott and Stiles told her what could happen in Chemistry.
When that class finally rolled around, she walked into class a couple of seconds after the boys. "-when and where?" Stiles was asking Scott, who had looked up and stared at the two leather clad teens in the back. She saw their eyes flash to the strawberry blonde in the front of the room.
Oh, god.
Very quickly, Daisy moved without thinking, shooting from behind the two boys and practically throwing her stuff onto the lab table behind Lydia, noticing that the boys had the table before her covered. Erica and Issac sat on either side of her, and her back straightened as she looked down her nose at the table in front of her. At the corner of her eye she saw Erica smirk.
Allison turned around slightly and faced the dancer, Daisy sending her pleading looks silently. At least this way Lydia was surrounded.
Harris had already started his rant of the day the second the bell rang.
"-the universe, and human stupidity, and I'm not sure about the universe. I, myself, have encountered infinite stupidity. "He stopped, placing a hand on Stiles' shoulder. If she didn't have werewolves, ready to kill, on either side of her, Daisy would have laughed.
"So," Harris continued, "to combat the plague of ignorance in my class, you're going to combine efforts through a round of group experiments. Let us see if two heads are indeed better than one."
A pause.
"Or in 's case, less than one."
Killer werewolves or no, Daisy had to suppress a snort of laughter.
"Erica," the teacher addressed her, "take the first station. S-" A rustle came from all sides of the room, and when Daisy looked around, almost all the boys in the room, and a few of the girls, had their hands raised, volunteering to be her partner. "I didn't ask for volunteers," he continued, "put your hormonal hands down. Start with Mr. Mcall."
Eventually, Daisy was partnered with a person she didn't know, sitting at a station just behind Erica and Scott. They seemed to be talking intensely, from what she could see when she looked up from her experiment, faces close, eyes narrowed.
The blondes hand slid up Scotts thigh and she inhaled sharply, eyes darting across the room to where Allison and Lydia sat. What was Erica trying to accomplish?
The bell to switch rang out throughout the tense room- "Switch," droned Harris' dull voice- and Daisy gathered her notebook and bag, moving to sit at another station. Erica joined her.
God damn it.
"So," Erica's voice was casual as she unscrewed the bottle in front of her, taking a test tube and filling it, "how are you feeling? You know, after the whole pool thing." The dancer tensed, eyes trained on the task at hand as she tried to ignore the blonde next to her. The werewolf continued to make small talk, and Daisy could feel her eyes pin-pointed on her the entire time. Finally, she gave in.
"What are you playing at?" She turned her body to face her, dark eyes narrowed as they met vibrant green ones. "What do you want with Lydia? Why are you trying to make Allison jealous?"
Daisy moved slightly closer with every question. Her lips seemed to be moving on their own, her mind struggling to catch up with her mouth. "Why did you become such a bitch?"
Suddenly, the hand, braced against the table, holding Daisy up was in an iron grip, clawed fingers digging into the dancers wrist. The dark haired girl gasped slightly out of pain, mostly shock, and recoiled immediately.
When she felt the tips of the others claws break the sensitive skin dangerously close to her veins, she tried to tug herself out of the grip.
Glowing yellow eyes replaced vibrant green, and bared teeth were slowly replaced by a wolfish grin. "Now, those kinds of questions are dangerous. They could get you hurt." Erica, who's voice became sickly sweet and innocently high, squeezed one last time, and Daisy noted liquid dripping down her wrist and into her hand, just as the bell dinged again.
The blonde smoothly stood, eyes and nails returning to a human state, and strode off to her next partner. Daisy slowly gathered her belongings once again and, in a zombie like state, walked across the room and sat in an extra seat next to Stiles and Scott, staring down at her bleeding wrist where four, perfect crescent moon shapes went down her skinin a line.
Issac sat down next to Lydia and Stiles shot up from his stool, as if to go stop him. Mr. Harris came up beside the distracted dancer and slapped a ruler onto the table in front of her, making her jump and look up quickly.
"Are you trying to test my patience, Mr. Stilinski?" He asked, raising the ruler up. "I guarantee you'll get a failing grade if you are." He moved to walk away, but paused and looked down at Daisy, and then to her wrist. "You can go ahead to the bathroom and wash that off." He told her, this time speaking in a quieter tone, now that the rest of the class continued their experiments.
She nodded silently, pulling down her sleeve and grabbing her bag with her good hand, not looking up when Stiles asked where she was going.
In the bathroom, the dancer cried silently, sitting in a stall with bloody tissues in her lap and her head in her hands as she questioned everything. Most of all, she questioned:
Why did I choose Beacon Hills?