Four large posters dangled from Genie's fingers as she walked through the parking lot, ducking past people as she made her way towards the stands by the lacrosse field. She grimaced, squinting out at the brightly lit field before turning her attention to the stands in an effort to spot Isaac. Gripping the posters tighter, she cursed Lydia under her breath. Despite her preaching for the past several days about how important it was for Genie to be at the lacrosse scrimmage, she herself wasn't there. Lydia had showed up at her house an hour prior to the game with the posters, told her she had a family emergency, and that she would try to get there as soon as possible. She had also gotten a text from Malia saying her father wanted to spend the night in with her, so she wouldn't be making it either. Instead, Genie was tasked to be on cheering duty with Isaac, only she couldn't seem to find him either.
With a disgruntled sigh, Genie trudged up the metal steps and scooted her way onto the end of a bench, the posters limp at her side. They kept slipping against the metal, so she rolled them up quickly and shoved them between her legs. Pulling her phone from her jacket pocket, she flicked through her messages to reach Isaac's name, typing out a short message asking, quite nicely, where the hell he was. She didn't have to wait long for her phone to buzz, a cheeky response directing her to look at the bottom of the bleachers. Isaac waggled his fingers with a smirk when she caught his eyes. He took long strides up the bleachers to her side and flicked his fingers against her arm, ushering her to move over impatiently.
"I see we are the pep squad tonight," he teased as soon as he sat, poking at the posters and smiling. Genie sighed, looking pointed away when he wouldn't stop smirking. "Oh, please. You got delegated to by Lydia Martin. It happens to everyone. She'll eat you alive if you don't do a good job."
"Should I go get a cheerleading costume and shout 'yay team?'" she grumbled half-heartedly, side-eyeing him with a frown and a faux-enthusiastic swirl of her finger. He seemed to consider the thought for a moment before smirking even wider, meeting her eyes and wiggling his eyebrows. "Oh, gross, stop that! Isaac, come on!"
Despite her best attempts to only appear cross with him at his reaction, she couldn't help but blush at the attention. Isaac laughed openly, grabbing two of the posters from the middle of the roll and putting them between his own legs. The past week had been strange, both with Isaac specifically as well as with the entire group. That constant underlying tension had taken a sharp edge. Everything seemed charged, though the strain was visible more clearly on a few people's faces. Isaac was one of them, his eyes taking on a glazed, far-off look most days, even when he was engaged in something. The wonder duo of Scott and Stiles were nearly always talking in hushed whispers, the purple-blue shadows under Stiles's eyes growing darker by the day. Lydia was off her game, having spent the past two days of the free period in the art room and emerging with a defeated look in her eyes. Everyone seemed exhausted beyond wakefulness, but they all tried to keep up the charade regardless. Genie didn't know whether or not to be thankful for their effort, not when the strain was clear despite their best attempts to cover it up.
"It's probably going to be a rough match," Isaac muttered, the previously happy look wiped off completely as he stared out at the people warming up on the field. "Devonford is Liam's old school. Apparently the break-up didn't go well."
Genie hummed, her gaze staying on Isaac's face for a little longer than necessary, scanning the stressed lines around his eyes. "They'll be fine," she stated, nodding and bumping her shoulder against his arm as she turned to look out at the field as well. They didn't speak again, the match starting up and all chance at conversation drowned by cheering. Neither bothered to unfurl the posters until a few minutes into the game, raising them over their heads and cheering much too quietly for Lydia to ever accept.
The further the game progressed, the more agitated Genie felt. Beacon Hills was getting destroyed, and it was beyond frustrating to see her friends get pushed around as much as they were. She didn't even like sports normally, but this scrimmage was the least fun event she had maybe ever been to. With a sigh, she stood and pushed the posters towards Isaac. He looked up at her, confused, as she rolled her eyes and stepped away with a call that she was going to the bathroom. For a moment, it looked like he was going to protest, but his eyes snapped back to the field when the crowd gave a communal cry as several of the players collided. Genie took her chance to sneak away.
As she walked into the school, the noise of the game was gradually gave way to the quiet echo of her footsteps as she trailed down the hallway to the nearest bathroom. Looking at herself in the mirror, she pulled and patted at her skin, trying to rub some of the feeling back into it from the chill outside. Her nose was pink and her cheeks matched the color, sensitive to the touch. Instead of rushing back out to the disaster of a game, she dawdled, taking her time in washing her hands and pulling her hair back into a neater ponytail. She replied to an earlier text from her mother and asked her to give Paul a kiss goodnight for her. By the time she left the bathroom, her palms were sweaty and her face was flushed from the heat instead of the cold.
It was strange, then, how a chill ran down her spine the moment she stepped back out into the hallway. Genie stood up straighter, her spine suddenly rigid as she peaked down the hall from behind the wall of lockers. Pale light from the floodlights by the field filtered in from the right, bathing the hallway in just enough light to give an eerie glow. The shadows seemed darker, somehow. There was nothing else there, but the feeling of unease, of suddenly feeling cold down to her bones, only intensified. 'You're freaking yourself out over an empty hallway for no reason,' she chided herself, shaking her head and turning on her heels to walk back down the corridor.
That discomfort didn't fade as she made her way to the turn in the hall that would lead back to the doors. Her hands were balled into fists inside the pockets of her jacket as she took careful, quiet footsteps. The slam of a door echoed from somewhere deeper in the building, and she heard sudden, hurried footsteps racing in her direction. She stumbled backwards a few steps with a startled gasp just as a body came careening around the corner, the figure coming to a halt in the shadows. The person hesitated just a moment before stepping into the light spilling from the doorway, blonde hair and blank face illuminated. He was dressed in the burgundy lacrosse uniform of Beacon Hills, his stick in his hand and dripping from one end, but she couldn't place his face, and it was his face that scared her the most. The blank look was replaced quickly by something more resembling hateful rage as he surged towards her in easy strides. Genie backed up in short, panicked footsteps until she was pressed against the lockers, chest heaving as the boy pressed the blunt line of his stick against her neck.
Genie gave a terrified, garbled sound, feeling her throat close off when she tried to take a breath in to scream. Her hands raised to push against the boy without her even consciously thinking to do so, and she rose onto her toes to try and escape the pressure blocking her airway. Before her, the boy's features were obscured by the dark again as he ducked his head off to one side of her face, but she could feel his breath against her neck as he let out an aggressive snarl. He pressed closer, and Genie felt what little space was between them disappear as she choked again against the pressure. In the next instant, she collapsed to the floor as the boy backed up and scrambled sideways into the corner as he pointed his lacrosse stick in her direction.
"You're lucky I don't have time for this," he whispered throatily, giving another short growl of frustration before turning away and taking off down the hall at a sprint.
Tears spilled down her cheeks as Genie watched in rapt terror as the boy disappeared into another corridor further down the hall, his footsteps gradually growing more and more distant until she couldn't hear them at all. She reached a hand up to curl around the front of her throat, letting out a sob into the silent that had settled back around her, and found herself unable to stop the panic inside of her from bubbling over. Air was barely reaching her lungs before she was breathing it back out again in desperate, rattling cries. The longer she sat there, the quicker and shallower her breathing became. Unable to stop the shaking in her limbs, she shuffled her legs up until she could tuck her free arm around them and rest her face on her knees. It was difficult to ignore the steadily growing fuzziness at the edge of her vision and the way her head felt so empty that it would cave in.
"Hey- Hey, there's someone down here!"
When hands grasped at her shoulders, Genie jolted, trying to shove her body farther away but only succeeding in pressing herself harder against the metal lockers. Her eyes were wide and unfocused as she swung out at the person in front of her, letting out a startled cry when the woman grabbed her wrists and tried to quiet her.
"Shh, shh, it's alright. You're okay. Miss- Miss, you're- Jesus, she's having a panic attack, Allen. Alright, miss- miss, try to breathe from your stomach. You've got to start taking deeper breaths. God, look at her throat…. Allen, get the goddamn sheriff!"
Genie curled more tightly into herself, her wrists still circled loosely by the other woman's fingers. She couldn't seem to find a way to breathe normally, despite the woman's increasingly urgent instructions. Footsteps grew closer from down the hallway, and Genie let out another round of panicked cries when the woman tried to pull her out of her defensive ball.
"Let go of the girl, Hanamoa, Jesus! She's having a panic attack and you're making it worse! Go find a medic, Allen. Get everyone away from this area, and go handle the damn girl we caught in the locker room," an authoritative voice commanded, the hands letting go of her in an instant. The hall grew quieter little by little, but Genie could barely hear the distant noises through the rush of blood through her head.
"Hello. Hey there, it's alright. Look, whatever it was that scared you this much is gone now…" the same voice soothed, much quieter and calmer than it had been just moment before. Genie whimpered softly and shook her head as she tried and failed to take in a deep breath. "That's alright. That's it. I know it's hard to breathe right now, but you've got to try and regulate your breathing. This is a pretty nasty panic attack, sweetheart, but you and I are going to get through it together, alright? Just concentrate on my voice."
Nearly ten minutes of the man talking and Genie trying to get her breathing back to normal found Genie still curled up in the corner, taking quieter, softer breaths with her head resting against her knees. The man was sitting beside her, talking quietly about doing a puzzle with his son some years previous and finding out that a piece was missing. His son, frustrated that the unopened box had been missing a piece, had made his own out of cardboard and prodded at it clumsily with markers until it vaguely resembled the rest of the picture. The man had it framed in his bedroom still. At the end of the story, Genie gave a small 'hmm' of acknowledgement, sniffling as she turned her head to look at the man. A gentle smile greeted her.
"There you are. My name is Sheriff Stilinski," he said, holding out a hand for her to shake. She took a moment to look at it before unwinding her arms from around her legs and placing her hand delicately in his.
"Genie," she whispered, her voice cracking on the second syllable slightly. "You're Stiles's dad?"
The look on his face became a familiar parental expression of exasperated and fond, the older man rolling his eyes with a huff. "Yes, that delinquent would be my child. You know him?"
"We're… friends, I think. At least, Lydia has decided we're friends."
The Sheriff gave another huff of amusement, smiling down at Genie and giving her hand a squeeze. "Yes, that sounds like Miss Martin," he drawled, pushing himself up onto his knees to stand. He took an unsteady step and stretched out his legs before turning to Genie and offering to help her up. Back on her feet, Genie felt herself sway unwillingly, stumbling towards the lockers and smacking her shoulder against them with a resounding bang. The Sheriff righted her with his hands on her shoulders as he ducked his head to look at her in concern.
"Genie… I know this is very difficult, but would you be able to answer some questions for me about what happened tonight?"
With an uneven breath, Genie gave another nod of her head, resolute but shaky. She opened her mouth to speak, but felt herself shudder again at the phantom weight on her throat, shaking her head quickly to stop the surge of panic. Reaching up towards her throat again, she traced her fingers across the skin and kept her eyes downcast.
"Genie, who did that?" his even voice prodded, careful but persistent.
"I don't know," she whispered, looking up at him with a frown. She shook her head again, taking in a breath before speaking. "He was- He was blonde, and he… He was wearing the… Beacon Hills lacrosse jersey. He just played in- He just started coming closer and he- and he- I'm sorry! It was all so quick and I can't see his face and he's right-"
She shook her head harder, backing away a step so she could press against the lockers again. A wrecked sob tumbled out of her as she reached her other hand up to try and stifle the noise. The sheriff turned to shout for someone named Allen down the hall to come up with the paramedic. Two new men approached cautiously, one staring intently at her neck.
"Miss, can I take a quick look at your neck? I just want to make sure that most of the damage is superficial," the man asked, taking another step forward when she nodded unevenly. Sheriff Stilinski moved off to the side with the other office while the paramedic checked her over. He prodded at her skin carefully, but he caught her in spots sensitive enough to cause a coughing fit a few times. He stepped away with a reassuring smile. "I think you're alright. Take something for the irritation and inflammation, and you can ice the affected area. If you notice any problems swallowing or breathing, please come in to Beacon Hills Memorial Hospital, alright?"
After waiting to hear Genie voice her understanding, the paramedic walked back down the hall. The other man, Office Allen, finished speaking with Sheriff Stilinski and followed after the paramedic without another glance in Genie's direction. Sniffling quietly, Genie looked up as the Sheriff settled by her side again, leaning against the lockers.
"Let's get you down to the station and call your parents, Genie. I think you've had long enough of a night."
Everything between the time she was put in the squad car to when her mother came barreling into the police station was a blur. Even her questioning by Sheriff Stilinski was barely a wisp of a memory in her mind. When she went to her room that night, her family hugging her and making sure she was safe in bed, there was only one thing she could remember. There was only one thing she could hear, but hadn't been able to bring herself to say out-loud to the Sheriff. There was only one thing that repeated as she looked out into the darkness of her room.
'You're lucky I don't have time for this.'
A/N: This update and the next are very short, but the few after that make up for it. Please let me know what you guys think, and thank you always for your comments and criticisms. Honestly, tell me how to write a better story, give me suggestions, anything. Thanks so much guys!