"Okay, and then what happened?"

"Well, he almost choked on his end of the fry, but I'd say it went pretty well for the most part."

Allison threw her head back as she laughed, slamming her locker shut and leaning against it. "Oh my God. I can't believe you seriously did that. I'm never getting over that."

"I know, it was super lame." I ducked my head even though I was still grinning. "It's so obnoxiously gross and cheesy, but it seemed like a good idea at the time."

"It still seems like a good idea now. I mean, it certainly seems like you two enjoyed yourselves."

She elbowed me suggestively and I rolled my eyes. I was about to reply that I enjoyed doing anything with Stiles, so long as our lives weren't in danger, but I was interrupted by my phone. I glanced down and grinned at the face that popped up on my screen.

"Speak of the devil," I greeted, accepting the call. "You do know we have school today, right?"

"Yes, I know that we have school today. If I didn't know that we had school today, I would not be on the phone with you while I was breaking several traffic laws trying to get to school in time for first period."

"Stiles, you really shouldn't be on the phone while you're driving."

"I wanted to talk to you about the kanima. So—"

"Is that why you're late? I told you to give up the research and go to bed last night."

"Sadie, this is a matter of life and death!"

"I know! You really need to get off the phone while you're speeding."

"I'm not gonna get a ticket. I'm like a block away."

"Then I'll talk to you when you get here."

"Sadie!"

I ended the call, smiling widely as Allison giggled.

"I'm so glad you two are finally together," she said, making me roll my eyes. She linked her arm through mine, tugging me down the hall so we could wait for the boys at their lockers. "So, you guys kissed in the car and then he drove you home. Did you kiss him again?"

"Well, technically, no…"

"Technically?"

"He finally got around to kissing me."

She actually squealed, jumping in her step. "Ah! Finally! God, I bet Lydia had a field day with that."

"Yeah, not so much…"

Allison frowned as my smile disappeared. "You did tell her, right?"

"Well, yeah, I told her but…I don't know. It's not the same anymore. She hasn't been the same Lydia since the whole Jackson thing, and that's on top of the currently-feeling-crazy-because-she-doesn't-know-anything-about-the-supernatural thing."

"Yeah," Allison sighed. "I guess that's…understandable."

I knew she also felt guilty for not telling Lydia the truth, but it was different. Allison didn't have to confront Lydia every single day. She didn't have to listen to Lydia trying and failing to fall asleep, tossing and turning and trying to muffle the sounds she made while she cried into her pillow. I'd attempted to bring the subject around with Lydia once or twice over the weekend, but Lydia shut me down every time. She was struggling with two opposite instincts: demanding answers and pretending that nothing was wrong. Hearing the truth would mean ceding control, and hectic as Lydia's life had become, I knew that was still hard for her.

Allison nudged my side, jarring me from my thoughts.

"So, how did that conversation go? About your date?"

"I mean, she hounded me the moment I walked in the door, just like she always does, but by the time I got to the end of the story, she already seemed pretty spacey. She just snorted and shook her head at me, like she couldn't really focus. So I figured, whatever, let me get her mind off all her past dates with Jackson. I got her to talk about this cute boy she's been talking to from the basketball team, but that ended pretty quick too. I don't think she knows that much about him, and honestly, I don't know if I should be pushing her into something else when she's like this."

"Hey, I get it," Allison said encouragingly. "You're right, and I'm sorry things have been so complicated with Lydia. But you know that if you ever need to do girl talk, I'm all ears."

"I know, and I love you for it. Especially since you're 'totally not a girly girl' and 'don't gush and gossip like that.'" Allison pushed me a little harder that time, and I grinned. "Anyway, I've been running my mouth all morning. What about you? How was your top secret study session with Scott the other day?"

Predictably, Allison let her hair fall into her face, a half-hearted attempt to hide her blush from passersby. "It went really well. Like, really well."

"So you two are totally gonna ace the anatomy unit test, right?"

"Excuse me, we were actually studying economics. Supply and demand, rising prices of various products…" I gave her a pointed look, all too aware of the turn the conversation was about to take, even before Allison finished. "…because he had to buy another box."

"Oh my God, Ally!"

"Hey! It is not my fault! I keep telling you, he's a werewolf! He—"

"If I have to hear you talk about Scott's super-wolf endurance one more time, I'm going to gouge my ears out and ban you from discussing your sex life for the rest of eternity."

"I second that!"

Stiles nearly tumbled into me in his haste to sprint down the hall. Allison rolled her eyes at him, which Stiles barely noticed as he wrapped his arm around my shoulders.

"Morning, Stilinski," I greeted with a smirk.

"Morning, Bennet. You're looking beautiful today."

His eyes dragged from the collar of my shirt to the bottom of my circle skirt. I felt his embrace tighten around me, and smoothly ducked out from under his arm as he leaned in for a kiss. Stiles stumbled forward and looked around in confusion, trying to figure out where I'd gone. He pouted and whined in protest.

"Hey, next time show up on time," I reminded him. "Get to your locker. I'll talk to you later."

I grabbed Allison's arm and tugged her down the hallway, ignoring Stiles's stamps and groans of disappointment in the hallway behind us. Allison giggled and shook her head at me.

"You're terrible."

"Yeah, I know."

Stiles wasn't around to agree at the time, but he made his opinion perfectly clear over the next few periods. He wouldn't speak to me at all, and every time I tried to say something to him, he'd turn his head and look dramatically into the distance. Of course, I knew he couldn't be that mad, not when he was still sitting next to me in every class and walking so close in the hallway that our arms bumped together every other step. But I'd let him pretend if it made him feel better.

I'd prepared for the cold shoulder to last at least until lunch, but that theory was thrown out as soon as I stepped out of my Spanish class. I was halfway through an argument with Danny about irregular verbs when he rolled his eyes at me.

"Guess I'll see you later, Sadie."

"What? What do you—hey!"

I squealed in surprise as I was nearly ripped off my feet and dragged down the hallway. I dug in my heels and tried to stand my ground, until I finally recognized the two bodies that had seized my arms. Only then did I relent, letting Scott and Stiles pull me around like a rag doll until they decided we were far enough away from wherever, whatever, or whoever we were supposed to be running from.

"Okay, seriously, what's going on?"

Stiles didn't seem to have heard my question. He grabbed my books out of my hands, then shoved them into Scott's so he could grab my shoulders. "Are you okay? Are you good? Yeah?"

"Um…yes? Why wouldn't I be?"

"Isaac's back at school," Scott informed me gravely.

"Oh, really? That's good."

Apparently, that was not the answer they were looking for.

"Good?!" Stiles repeated, his fingers digging into my shoulders. "Good?! No! No, Sadie! That's actually very, very, very not good!"

"Why?"

"Because he's with Derek," Scott insisted.

"So?"

"So?! Sadie, in case you can't remember, in the last month Derek has bitten three unprepared teenagers, attacked Scott, had me assaulted by his blonde lackey and then thrown in a dumpster, and then almost got us drowned!"

"Okay, Derek didn't have you assaulted. That was all Erica, and trust me, I don't think she'll make the mistake of doing it again. And the pool wasn't Derek's fault."

Stiles spluttered in incoherent rage as I shrugged his hands off my shoulders. I linked my arm with his and grabbed Scott by the backpack, coaxing them back into motion down the hall.

"I'm not saying everything Derek's done is excusable. I'm just saying that, in his own way, Derek's still helping us. We're all on the same page…roughly."

"Sadie," Scott pleaded, "he wants to kill the kanima. It's a shifter! It's like me! That means that it's an actual person that Derek wants to kill!"

"And he can't do that until he figures out who it is. I don't want to kill anyone either, but Derek knows a lot more about the kanima than we do. He's our best chance at figuring out who it is, what it is, and how we can stop it. So please, please, please don't start anything with Isaac."

Scott and Stiles sighed in unison. Eventually, Scott nodded with the ultimate reluctance. I knew that he didn't want to trust Derek, especially after what had happened at the ice rink, but he also knew that I was right. It was hard to prioritize with the Argents in town and Derek building a pack and the kanima lurking around, but the rising body count was our number one concern. If we wanted to save people, we needed to figure out who the kanima really was.

"I still don't want Lahey near you," Stiles growled, tugging me closer.

"Please, Isaac is the least of our worries. I'm just glad he's allowed to be in public at all. What happened to him being a fugitive?"

"Jackson talked to my dad. Suddenly, he never actually saw Isaac and his dad fighting. No witness means no motive, which means no justifiable cause for incarceration. His name's cleared for now."

"How benevolent," I said, rolling my eyes. "If you want my opinion, we should be less worried about Derek and more worried about Jackson. It's not like he changed his story out of the goodness of his heart. If Jackson helped Isaac get back to school, then something's going on there, and knowing his tendency to colossally fuck things up to the nth degree, it's probably something big and terrible and awful."

"One problem at a time," Scott sighed. "Stiles, what'd you find out about the kanima?"

"Alright, so I only found one thing online called a 'kanima.' It's a werejaguar from South America that goes after murderers."

"That was definitely not a jaguar," I snorted.

"Yeah, and I'm not exactly a murderer."

"But you did see it kill somebody, which is probably why it tried to kill you," Scott reasoned. "And it's still trying to kill you. Maybe it's trying to kill both of you. And it probably won't stop until both of you are dead!"

Stiles pulled me to a stop, glaring ferociously at Scott's back as he wandered ahead of us. "You know, sometimes I really begin to question this 'friendship.'"

"I don't think we need to worry too much," I assured them, tugging Stiles ahead until we were level with Scott once more. "Stiles and I know how to take care of ourselves. Besides, we only found that on one website, and it may not even be true."

"What is that supposed to mean?" Stiles demanded. "You don't trust my investigative skills now?"

"Oh, come on. You're always the one saying you can't come to a conclusive conclusion based on one data point. And the only werejaguars I could find any information on were from Mexico. They're shifters called Nagual, and hopefully not something we have to worry about any time soon."

"Well there could be more than one name for a werejaguar! Just cause you read some Wikipedia article about the Nazgûl or whatever—"

"Nagual, not Nazgûl, dumbass. They're shapeshifters, not ring wraiths."

"Oh well, excuse me for not knowing exactly what you were talking about with all your Mesoamerican supernatural creatures and…why are you smiling?"

I frowned in confusion, but Stiles wasn't actually talking to me. I turned to find Scott on my other side, trying and failing to hide the smirk that had crawled up on his face.

"Nothing! Just uh…so you two are having supernatural study dates now?"

"Dude, really?" Stiles scoffed. "We weren't 'studying.' We were doing research on a life or death situation, which we always seem to be doing because of the weird shit that happens to you. And seriously, if I had a 'study date' with Sadie, don't you think I would've said something? What kind of a friend do you think I am?"

"I know! Sorry, I was just making sure. I don't want you to feel like you can't tell me just because I talk about Allison so much, or—"

"No, dude, it's cool. You're way more experienced than I am. Of course I'm gonna tell you, 'cause I'm gonna need loads of advice, like how—"

"Okay, hi!" I squeaked, sure my face was cherry red in horror. "Yeah, I'm still right here! I get that boys talk about stuff too, but can you wait until I'm not literally standing right between you?"

Stiles flushed pink, but Scott merely laughed.

"Alright, sorry. One more question."

"What?"

"If you're dating Stiles, why am I the one holding your books?"

He lifted the pile of binders and folders that Stiles had haphazardly shoved into his arms. My glare melted into a grin and I peeled myself away from Stiles to take my books back.

"Because you're the one with super strength, silly." I planted a kiss on his cheek, then spun to kiss Stiles before he could complain. "I have to stop by my locker. I'll meet you two in class."

I hurried down the hallway, weaving in and out of the crowd with difficulty as people took their sweet ass time getting to class. I fumbled to get my locker open as fast as possible, shoving in my used books and snatching the ones I needed for the second half of the day. I slammed the door shut again and screamed in surprise.

"Woah—relax, Sadie. It's just me."

Jackson was leaning on the locker next to mine, arms folded over his chest. He stared at me expectantly, waiting for the curse or insult I usually threw his way, but my mouth stayed firmly shut. I didn't have the energy to come up with a snappy response, not when I was using all my self-control to stop myself from lunging forward and throttling him. When he didn't get a response, Jackson rolled his eyes.

"Look, do you really think I'd be over here slumming it with you if it wasn't important?"

"Do you really think I won't punch you in the face again?"

He glared, but I didn't miss the way his jaw tightened at my words. Clearly the whole assault thing was still a sore subject for him. Good.

"I'm serious. It's about all your supernatural bullshit."

I smacked him on the arm, glancing around the hallway. "Keep your voice down, asshole!"

"Yeah, says the girl who just screamed bloody murder. I'm not the one causing a scene."

I glowered at him and stormed past him down the hall—but Jackson was every bit as tall as I was, and he had no problem keeping up with me as he tailed me to class.

"Besides," he continued carelessly, "your pet dweebs aren't exactly subtle about it."

"Scott and Stiles aren't pets, and—"

"What about Lahey and that Erica girl?"

"No, they're working with Derek, which you'd know if you had any kind of functional brain."

"Trust me, I know they're working for Derek. Seeing as they decided to kidnap me last night."

I stopped short and Jackson collided with my back. The collision made me stumble, and he reached out to steady me, but I ripped my arm out of his grasp. I checked up and down the hallway again, then stepped close and lowered my voice.

"What do you mean they kidnapped you?"

"What, does that word have some secret definition?" he hissed. "I mean they kidnapped me! They dragged me to some rusty hole in the ground and tried to torture me and threatened me into going to the police to change my statement! And now they're running around school talking about something called a kanima and…"

He trailed off and his eyes sunk to the ground. That was more alarming than his anger.

"What is it, Jackson?"

He sighed, crossing his arms over his chest. "Lydia. They were saying something about Lydia."

My blood ran cold. Before I could stop them, a slideshow of images started playing in my mind, flashes so quick I could barely understand my own thoughts: Lydia trembling on the side of the road, thrashing back and forth in her bed, scratching frantically at the ice, crying into her pillow, screaming, always screaming. I knew that something was going on with her, but Derek couldn't actually believe she was the kanima. Nothing she'd done was remotely like a shifter. The memory loss, the nightmares, the insomnia—none of that was something Scott had dealt with when he got the bite; Lydia's bite hadn't even healed. There was something going on, but she couldn't be turning.

But even as I said that to myself, Derek's reply was already ringing in my ears.

"A shapeshifter yes, but it's—it's not right. It's…"

"An abomination."

"Sadie, what the hell is going on?"

Jackson was watching me intently, his knuckles white as he gripped the strap of his bag. He could pretend not to care all he wanted, but it was clear that he was scared—scared for himself, scared for Lydia.

"Come on. We have to get to class."

Without letting myself think about it, I grabbed his arm and dragged him down the hall. I shoved him into the room in front of me, ushering him away from his normal seat and down the aisle by the windows, where Stiles and Scott were already sitting next to each other. I could feel Lydia's curious eyes on me, no doubt wondering how Jackson and I were standing together without a scratch or bruise on either of us, but I ignored her. I shoved him into the seat behind Scott, then sat at the desk behind Stiles so I could tap him on the shoulder.

"Hey, we've got a massive problem."

"Just a sec…"

Stiles was busy flipping through the pages of his textbook, Scott frantically finishing a page of equations in his notebook. I could practically hear Jackson grinding his teeth in annoyance.

"Hey, testicle left and right. What the hell is a kanima?"

That certainly got their attention. The boys whirled around in their seats, but before they could say anything, Coach Finstock called the class to order by slamming his textbook down on his desk at the front of the room.

"Alright, listen up. A quick warning, before we begin our review. Some of you, like McCall, might want to start their own study groups—"

"Why would you tell Jackson?" Stiles hissed, turning back to me as Finstock droned on. "Awful, terrible Jackson!"

"I didn't tell him anything!" I growled back. "He heard Isaac and Erica in the hallway. They're planning something with Lydia."

"They want to test her to see if she's a kanima," Jackson interrupted. "Whatever the hell that is."

"It's kind of like a werewolf," Scott explained grudgingly. "It's what's been killing people in town. It's supposed to be some kind of werejaguar."

"Jaguar? I thought it was a snake."

Scott and Stiles both turned to me in alarm, and I sighed. "Derek."

"Oh yeah," Jackson scoffed. "Your little buddy paid me a visit. Said he was looking for a snake, forced some kind of poison down my throat, then left me in some abandoned shithole at the edge of town, paralyzed from the neck down. Do you have any idea what that feels like?!"

"I'm familiar with the sensation," Stiles said dryly.

Jackson glared at him, as if the fact that Stiles had also been horrendously traumatized was some kind of annoyance. Before he could make any bitter, sarcastic comments, Scott interrupted him.

"Wait…why would Derek test you? Why would he think it was you?"

"How should I know?" Jackson snarled.

"Wait, do they think it's Lydia?" Stiles asked in alarm.

"They have to," I said nervously, but Jackson shook his head.

"I don't know. All I heard was her name and something about chemistry—"

"Jackson!" All four of us jumped in our seats, heads snapping up to find Coach Finstock looming over us. "Do you have something you want to share with the rest of the class?"

"Um…"

He glanced over at me for help, but I puckered my lips in silence. Watching Jackson fumble for words, unsure of himself for once, was even more enjoyable than I would've thought. I wasn't going to jump in and bail him out.

"Uh, just an undying admiration for my—my coach…"

Finstock's wild look of rage softened, for just a moment, into a smile. "That's really kind of you."

Jackson smiled smugly, until Finstock started shouting again.

"Now shut up! Shut it! Anybody else?"

No one said anything, and Finstock made his way back toward the front of the room, his crazed eyes flitting from student to student and just waiting to beat down anyone who opposed him. Scott waited until the coach had made it all the way back to his desk before turning around again, grabbing Stiles's arm and yanking him back into the conversation.

"How do we know it's not her?"

"Because it's not, Scott," I said without hesitation. "It's not."

"Sadie…" He turned to me, and I was almost enraged to find his eyes full of pity. "I know you don't want it to be her, but this is serious. She got bit by Peter, and you said she's been acting weird. What if this is why?"

"It's not. It's just not."

"I agree," Stiles said with a firm nod. "I mean, I looked into the eyes of that thing, okay? And what I saw was pure evil, and when I look into Lydia's eyes, I only see fifty percent evil."

Scott gave him a pointed look, and Stiles winced.

"Alright, maybe sixty."

I punched him in the back, and he bit his lip to stop himself from squealing.

"Argh—no more than forty on a good day!"

"Guys, that's not a very good argument," Scott sighed.

"It's not her."

"Sadie—"

"You want an argument?" I hissed at him, gripping the edge of my desk. "Lydia was with me the night of the lacrosse game. Stiles went inside and I stayed in the car with Lydia while she cried her eyes out because she doesn't know what's going on, then Stiles called me because the kanima trapped him and Derek in the pool. This isn't some desperate plight to pretend that Lydia's okay. She physically cannot be the kanima."

Scott sighed and ran a hand through his mop of hair. "Okay. Well, we have to tell Derek that before he tries anything."

"So they test her and they're wrong," Stiles said, shaking his head. "They're not gonna do anything without proof. It'll be fine. Lydia's fine."

I didn't even have the energy to glare anymore. I just let my head flop down on my arms, folded over my textbook on top of my desk.

Lydia was not fine, and I knew it. She wasn't fine by any definition of the word, and I was getting more irritated the more people tried to use it. Even without our supernatural problems, Lydia wasn't fine normally. All of her friends were lying to her, isolating her, forcing her to deal with her issues all on her own. Between that, the attack, the nightmares, Jackson's toxic fucking attitude, it was no wonder she was struggling—but struggling and transforming were two very different situations.

I took a deep breath, ready to give another long speech to Scott and Stiles about how we really ought to clue Lydia in to the supernatural goings on in town, but a sound cut me off. It was a whimpering noise, nearly muffled by the hushed chatter and giggles that were washing around the classroom.

I lifted my head and froze. Lydia was standing in front of the class, her eyes squeezed shut and her whole body shaking. Tears were rolling down her cheeks, her hands clenched tightly around what was left of the piece of chalk she'd been using to answer the review questions on the board…or at least, the questions she'd been trying to answer on the board. Instead of economics equations, Lydia had been scrawling large letters, the same combination over and over again, tilting back and forth and taking up all the space that was left on the chalkboard. It wasn't readable at first, but it only took my brain a second to catch up. For some reason, everything was flipped, spelling out Lydia's backward plea on the wall over her head.

"SOMEONE HELP ME."

"Lydia?" Coach Finstock prompted quietly. He approached her like she was some skittish woodland creature who would dart off at any second. When he didn't get a response, he cleared his throat and tried again in a sing-song voice. "Lydia…"

She jumped with a choked sob, and her eyes snapped open at last. Her watery eyes darted back and forth across the room, taking in the confused and amused faces in front of her.

"Okay," Finstock chuckled awkwardly, peering over Lydia's shoulder at the board. "Anyone else want to try answering? This time in…English?"

The class burst into laughter and Lydia flinched. She spun on the spot, hair whipping around her as she turned to the chalkboard. She froze, the chalk slipping from her hands and shattering on the floor. She looked just as surprised as anyone else. It seemed that she had no recollection of writing anything on the board, just like when she'd punched the mirror, or gone wandering in the woods. After everything, she was still losing time.

I was out of my chair in an instant.

"Coach Finstock, can I go to the water fountain? Thank you!"

I marched to the front of the room, wrapped an arm around Lydia, and forcibly pulled her out of the classroom. I wasn't sure where I was taking her. I just knew that she needed to get out of the classroom, away from whatever it was that had set her off and all the people laughing at her behind their hands.

We were about two halls away before Lydia came back to herself. She struggled in my arm, swatting at my shoulder as she fought to regain her composure and push me off at the same time.

"Seriously, Sadie, let go of me. I'm fine."

I reluctantly dropped my arm, but didn't let her go. I stepped in front of her, grabbing her shoulders and forcing her to face me, to look me in the eye instead of hiding the tears on her cheeks.

"Lydia, you're not fine. Okay? You were just in a room full of people and—"

"Just please stop talking about it."

"—you were writing backwards on the board and—"

"Sadie, I don't know what you're talking about! Just stop!"

"—I just want you to be able to talk to me—"

"I don't want to talk!"

"—because I'll listen, and I just want to help—"

"Shut up! Just shut up! Let go of me!"

Her scream hit me like a slap in the face. She wrenched herself out of my grasp and my arms fell limply to my sides.

"Okay," I managed weakly. "Okay, I'm…I'm done…"

Her chest rose and fell rapidly, heaving as her eyes darted back and forth, looking for a way out of a situation that was all in her head. She took a few unsteady steps toward the wall and planted her back against the lockers. She buried her face in her hands, but it didn't do anything to cover the sound of her sniffles. Hiding her face didn't stop her body from being wracked with sobs. It didn't change what had happened in the classroom. But I had to pretend that it did.

"I'm fine," she whimpered, the words distorted by the cries she was trying to hold in. "I'm fine. I'm fine."

I took a cautious step forward and waited. When she didn't snap at me, I took one more. Slowly, I made my way to the spot next to her, leaning my back on the wall and wrapping my arm around her shoulder once more. She leaned into my side for support.

"I'm fine, Sadie. T-tell me I'm fine."

I held my breath for a moment. But what was one more lie to add to the list?

"You're…you're gonna be fine, Lydia. I promise."

The words sat like rocks in my stomach, but it seemed to be enough for Lydia. Her shoulders sagged in relief and she nodded to herself, wiping her face and patting her hair down as she regained her composure. The best I could do was stand there, eyes closed and lips pressed together. That wasn't a lie. Lydia wasn't fine now, but she would be. I was going to do whatever it took to make that happen. Lydia would be safe. Lydia would heal. Lydia would finally know what was going on. Lydia would be completely and totally fine.

I ran a hand through my hair, pushing off the wall and checking up and down the hall. The last thing we needed was someone gabbing about how Lydia Martin had broken down in the middle of the hallway during the school day. I thought we were in the clear for a moment, but then…

Erica was grinning at us through the small window in the classroom door across from us. She was standing just on the other side, under the guise of sharpening her pencil. Her eyes flashed gold as they looked at me, then Lydia, then back again. Then she winked, raising a clawed hand and giving a small wave.

"Let's go back to class."

Before Lydia could protest, I was dragging her back down the hall. It was time to get back to Economics, whether she was ready or not.

I kept a close eye on her for the rest of the day. I could tell that it was making her increasingly annoyed, but she hadn't ditched me just yet. Something told me that, as much as she didn't want to admit it, she wanted me there to keep her grounded in the present. The more I talked to her, kept her thinking about class or friends or school, the less likely it was she would zone out and have another…problem.

The closer we got to chemistry, the more nervous I became. I knew that Lydia wasn't the kanima. All we had to do was hold Isaac and Erica off long enough to explain that Lydia couldn't be in two places at once. Then we could go back to looking for the kanima from square one. Simple.

"Okay, Sadie, seriously. Drop it. If you hold onto my arm any longer, your boyfriend's going to get jealous."

Lydia pulled away from me before we could make it into the classroom. She tossed her hair back, straightened her hot pink leather jacket, and marched into the room with her chin held high. I smirked at her determination and followed hot on her heels.

The first thing I did when we reached our desk was drop my books and spin in a circle, doing a full cursory scan of the room to make sure we hadn't walked straight into a trap. For the moment, we seemed to be safe. Isaac and Erica were nowhere in sight, and our speed-walking meant we'd even beat Scott, Stiles and Allison. There were only handful of other students and a sour-faced Mr. Harris, who was already watching me with displeasure.

"Miss Bennet, is it really too much to ask for you to sit in one seat for the duration of class?"

I had to bite back my retort that class hadn't technically started yet. I'd started the year on pretty solid footing with Mr. Harris, but after two detentions, he'd decided I was a soul who couldn't be saved.

I sank obediently into my seat, and a moment later, Stiles and Scott came tumbling through the door. They sprinted straight for the desk behind us, pouncing on the chairs and spreading their belongings over the entire tabletop. When they were satisfied no one else would be able to squeeze in, they sagged back in their seats, doing the same scan of the room I had. Stiles met my eye with a finger gun and a wink, and Lydia rolled her eyes.

"Honestly, can't you two chill for one period? I promise, you won't die if you don't sit next to each other."

"Early days," I said nonchalantly. "We just can't be apart."

She repressed a snort and I turned around in my seat to pat Stiles on the arm, peeking curiously over his shoulder. And there they were—Isaac and Erica, sitting at the table behind Scott and Stiles with feral smirks plastered on their faces. I wondered briefly where their matching leather jackets had come from. I certainly hadn't bought them, but the image of a leather-clad Derek going shopping for leather jackets for his newly acquired teenage gang was infinitely amusing to me. I wished I able to appreciate how good the two of them looked, Erica with her clear skin, Isaac with his head held high, free of bruises. They looked healthy, confident; it was a shame they were only here to kill Lydia.

Allison sat down at the table across from me, shooting me a look of confusion. I nodded to Scott, who tilted his head back toward Isaac and Erica, and I saw Allison's face fall. She might not have the whole story, but she was smart enough to know that it wasn't good. Questions could come later. Right now, the most important priority was keeping Lydia safe.

Lydia nudged me and nodded toward my book, and I hurried to flip open to the correct page. I tried to hide how my hands were shaking. I was only half-listening as Harris started class with one of his usual, moody, highbrowed lectures.

"Einstein once said, 'Two things are infinite: the universe and human stupidity, and I'm not sure about the universe.' I myself have encountered infinite stupidity. So to combat the plague of ignorance in my class, you're going to combine efforts through a round of group experiments. Let's see if two heads are indeed better than one. Or, in Mr. Stilinski's case, less than one."

My jaw dropped as Lydia giggled next to me. I stubbornly turned around in my seat, reaching out to protectively grab Stiles's hand off the table. I glowered at Harris for all I was worth, which only earned me a glare in return. He looked down at our joined hands with the expression of someone on the verge of vomiting, then closed his eyes and sighed.

"Sadie, please move to the first station with…Mr. Lahey."

I froze, and Stiles's hand tightened possessively around mine, something that didn't go unnoticed by Mr. Harris. He gave us an acidic smile, reached down and physically pulled our hands apart by the wrists.

"Time is precious, Miss Bennet, as is my patience. I suggest you don't test either of them."

I pressed my lips into a firm line, pushing down the rage that was swelling in my chest and snatching my books off the table. I stormed over to the first desk, but stopped short as Isaac managed to glide in front of me, leaving me with a face full of his leather jacket. I refused to look up at him, but I could feel him grinning down at me. I bit the inside of my cheek and took a step back out of his personal space, letting him sit down first. I needed to control my heartbeat, to keep my breathing level so I wouldn't betray fear or anger or nervousness. Judging by the enduring smirk on Isaac's face, I wasn't doing a very good job.

A few months ago, I would've been thrilled to work with Isaac during chemistry. Now I flat out ignored him as I prepared the supplies at our desk. I could still feel his eyes on me, unabashed for a change as he watched my every move, similarly ignoring the rest of the class as Harris ordered students into their new seats.

When the bell went off at the front of the classroom, I wordlessly set to work pouring and mixing the chemicals in front of me. I was almost surprised when Isaac straightened his cuffs and grabbed a beaker himself. He held the liquid up to the light and carefully poured it into a test tube.

"It's kinda nice to be back at school," he said casually as he worked. "Back with the old, familiar faces. I tried to stop by your locker this morning to give you the good news, but you didn't show up. Didn't realize you and Stilinski were already at the morning-suck-face part of your relationship."

He popped the 'p' on the end of the word, placing the test tube back on the rack and sending me another grin.

I narrowed my eyes at him, holding my beaker too tight. "You come back to school to kill my best friend and you think I want to talk about Stiles?"

"Well, he's your boyfriend, isn't he? I thought that was part of the deal."

"It's not Lydia."

"Why am I not surprised that you're saying that, Sadie?"

"I'm not just saying it, Isaac," I growled, my hand tightening further with rage. "I was with her when the kanima attacked Derek and Stiles. She can't be in two places at once. I'm not going to let you kill her."

"We're not gonna kill her if we don't have to." His voice was surprisingly soft. He reached over to ease the glass out of my hand, fingers brushing against mine. "It's just a test. If it's not her, she has nothing to worry about."

"Nothing to—Isaac, you do realize you're trying to paralyze her with a deadly toxin in the middle of class, right? Do you know where we are? Who the principal is? You of all people should be keeping your head down. Even if Gerard doesn't hear about this and decide you're a threat, think about how Lydia's going to feel. She's already going through enough without you making a spectacle of her in front of everyone."

"Seriously?" he asked dryly. "The amazing, untouchable Lydia Martin? I think her reputation can survive a little spectacle."

"You're a werewolf, Isaac. That doesn't mean you have to be a bully."

"Bully?" All the gentility was gone as he bristled with rage. "You know, you just don't get it, do you? What it's like to suddenly have power after being wailed on your whole life? I deserve this, okay? I earned it. Do you even realize how many people Lydia's destroyed, even before she got attacked?"

"So this is about revenge," I said evenly. "You don't even care if it's her."

"Y—no. No, this—the kanima is—"

"Good. Because having power and using it to hurt people just to prove that you're big and strong isn't something that anyone deserves to do. You don't get to hurt people just because someone hurt you. I'd have thought you of all people would understand that."

Isaac went pale. I knew it was a low blow to make, using his father against him, but I wasn't about to pull any punches. Not with Lydia's life on the line.

"Sadie, I'm—"

Before he could finish, the bell went off at the front of the classroom. I scooped up my books and marched away from the table, leaving Isaac stunned in my wake.

The moment I saw that the chair next to Lydia was empty, I made a beeline to her desk. She rolled her eyes at me, fed up with my coddling, but she could hate me as much as she wanted to. Erica had been eyeing the same chair, and I wasn't about to let her anywhere near Lydia. Unfortunately, when I took away one target, Erica smirked and moved onto another.

Stiles jumped in his seat as Erica plopped down next to him, her eyes locked on mine the entire time. She flicked her hair back and turned to Stiles with a predatory smile. He froze in panic, his mouth hanging open, eyes flicking helplessly back and forth between Erica's face and mine. It was a wonder I didn't snap my pen in two.

The bell rang, and I forced myself to go through the motions of the experiment. I must've grabbed the flask just a little too quickly, because Lydia raised her eyebrow.

"I thought you said you guys were in the early days."

"We are."

"Ha, well, you're certainly not acting like it. You get cozy with Isaac and the next round he's sitting with Little Miss Overcompensatory Makeover? Jealousy can be a great motivator, but I promise you, it's not healthy."

"I was not getting cozy with Isaac," I hissed, glancing over to the table where he was sitting with Allison. I couldn't tell if his smirk was permanent at this point, or if he was eavesdropping.

"Sure," Lydia snorted. "Well, he certainly seemed pretty comfortable with you. But you know, I'm sure it's nothing to worry about. Not like you were, say…shoving your boobs in his face or anything…"

"What?"

"Well, that seems to be the route Erica's going, so…"

I whipped around again to look at their table. Erica had one elbow propped on the table, another wrapped around her ribs and pushing her boobs up as far as they could go, her cleavage framed by her black V-neck. She was completely ignoring the experiment on the table as she watched Stiles work. She twirled a piece of her hair and leaned closer to him, his face getting redder and redder with every inch. His eyes stayed firmly on the experiment, but I could tell from the way he was gripping his beaker that his mind wasn't all there.

Lydia grabbed my wrist and forced a test tube into my hand. "Honestly, relax. You have to make it harder for them to get to you."

I knew that she was right, but logic didn't seem to be reaching my brain. The moment the bell rand, I was up and out of my seat. I ignored the way Lydia grabbed for my arm and hissed my name. I just grabbed my books and marched straight for Erica, nothing but bloodlust in mind. She was grinning, confirming that I was doing exactly what she wanted me to do, but I was too angry to care. I'd tackle her right here if I had to.

"No!"

Someone grabbed my forearm and yanked me into a chair just before I could pounce. I glared reproachfully at Scott as he forcibly turned me toward the front of the room, then took my books and spread them over the table, as if making it harder for me to collect my things would keep me in my seat.

"Scott—"

"Sadie, no. Not now. This is exactly what they want. If we're worried about each other, then we're not watching Lydia. You can't get distracted."

I tensed, eyes shooting back to my vacated seat. Thankfully, it was Allison who had replaced me, already talking to Lydia and moving onto the next step of the experiment. I sagged back in my seat in shame.

"Sorry…"

"It's okay." Scott gave me a small, reassuring smile as we started the next step of the experiment—as close to a smile as he could get under the circumstances. "Seriously, though. You don't need to worry about Stiles. He didn't say a word to Erica the whole round. They weren't flirting."

"Neither were me and Isaac," I insisted. "We were just talking about Lydia. I mean, he knows that, right?"

"He…what?"

"Stiles. He knows I wouldn't flirt with Isaac, right?"

"I—yeah, he—I'm sure he knows…that…"

It wasn't an encouraging answer. I finished measuring out some powder from the jar I was holding, screwed the lid on too tight, and fixed Scott with a determined glare—but Scott wasn't looking at me. His whole body had gone tense, his eyes fixed on a table in the next row over. I followed his gaze to find Stiles and Isaac sitting together at the same work station, one glaring holes into the glassware while the latter spoke quiet words through a smirk.

"What's wrong?" I asked Scott, making him jump.

"Wrong? Nothing's wrong. It's…good." I stared at him steadily, unconvinced, until his resolved crumbled. "It's nothing. Stiles and Isaac are just uh…talking…"

"Yeah, I can see that. Talking about what?"

"Lydia. Isaac's um…upset. I guess she made fun of him last year. That's—that's it."

At that moment, Isaac's eyes flitted across the room to meet mine. His smirk widened into an innocent grin and he lifted two fingers in a wave. Stiles was holding his beaker so tightly, I was surprised it hadn't already shattered.

I bristled. "Scott…"

"Sadie, we need to focus on—"

"Scott."

He withered again. He continued combining the materials we needed, but turned his head ever so slightly to the side as he honed in on the other desk, listening to their conversation.

"It's really nothing, Sadie. Isaac's talking about when he met you over the summer. You're really nice, you've given him a ride a few times…Stiles knows that you're nice, because you're his girlfriend, and…uh oh…"

"What's he saying?" I hissed, watching as Isaac leaned even closer to Stiles.

"Uh, he's—uh—" Scott stalled, reaching across me for a jar of salts we definitely didn't need for a crystallization lab. "Basically, he's just—you know, because he's a werewolf, he—um—no."

"No?" I repeated as Scott shook his head.

"I'm not…no."

"Scott!"

"And switch!" Harris called, slamming his hand down on the bell.

Scott popped up out of his chair, darting away for another station before I could grab ahold of him. I glared at Isaac as he winked at Stiles, but he didn't glance my way again. I gathered my booked and hurried over to Stiles, who was slamming his books down on top of one another.

"Are you okay?"

"Yeah. I'm fine."

I'd been expecting him to jump in surprise, to stutter and avoid me like Scott had, but Stiles didn't even lift his head. His words were so low and flat, it scared me even more than Scott's shiftiness.

"Listen," I said uncertainly, "I don't know what he said, but it's not important. He's wrong."

"Don't worry about it, Sadie."

"Hey." I grabbed his wrist, stopping him from forcing his way past me. I ducked into his line of vision until he conceded to meet my eye. "I'm not gonna stop worrying about you. I don't care what Isaac thinks. I don't care what you think. I'm not going anywhere."

"Are you two quite finished?"

I spun on the spot, finding myself nose-to-collar with Mr. Harris, who was glaring down his nose at me.

"We're in the middle of a time experiment, so as pressing as your meaningless love lives seem to be, I'm going to have to insist that you choose a seat. One more strike, Miss Bennet, and I write you up. I doubt your mother will be pleased to hear of your third detention."

"Hey, she didn't do any—"

Harris cut Stiles off with a firm hand on his shoulder, shoving him into a chair next to Scott. "If you're trying to test my patience, Mr. Stilinski, I guarantee it will be a failing grade. Miss Bennet, the seat next to Mr. Mahealani. Now."

He turned on his heel and stalked to the front of the classroom with a self-satisfied smile.

I bit back a groan, ready to turn and find Danny, but then I spotted something much more disturbing than Harris's favoritism: two leather jackets were planted at the front desk, one black with broad shoulders, the other hot pink.

I'd done exactly what Scott had begged me not to. I'd been distracted worrying about Stiles, and now Isaac was sitting next to Lydia. She was in danger again, and it was my fault.

A hand grabbed my wrist, tugging me back and down into a chair. Danny shook his head at me with a smile.

"Seriously, you're crazy, Sadie. Going against Harris three times in a day is just about the stupidest thing I've ever seen you do—and I've seen you pick a fight with Jackson when he's drunk."

"He's just…pissing me off," I growled. It was hard to monitor the solution in front of me and keep an eye on Isaac at the same time. "I hate that dickhead."

"Are you sure that's not the twin leather jackets pitting you and your boyfriend against each other?"

I turned to Danny in surprise, completely forgetting about both the experiment and the danger. "Excuse me?"

"You're not subtle," he chuckled. "Not that I mind. It's like watching a soap opera in class, and it's a hell of a lot more interesting than growing sugar crystals. Plus, Isaac's pretty cute."

"Shut up."

"Seriously, though." He lowered his voice, watching me in concern. "Is everything okay? You always seem really…I don't know—tense these days."

"It's…it's nothing. Just…trying to keep an eye on Lydia, make sure she's okay after everything that's happened. Between that and school and Stiles…it's just been hectic.

"Well, you don't seem hectic. You seem panicked."

I chose not to answer him that time. There was no point in coming up with an excuse. We both knew he was right. Thankfully, instead of asking for answers, it seemed Danny had his own agenda to push.

"You know what you need? A night out. We should go out tonight."

I actually snorted, peeking over at Lydia gain before turning to Danny. "What part of getting plastered and dealing with a hangover is supposed to make my life easier?"

"I didn't say it'd be easier. I just think you need to let go every now and then: dance, get lost in the music, all that. Getting plastered is just a perk…well, for you. For me, it's kinda a given."

"I don't know. I don't think I can afford to right now."

I checked on Isaac, then glanced over to where Erica was having a very tense conversation with Allison. Going out and getting drunk definitely wasn't on my to do list, not when Derek and his pack were working their way through town looking for a target.

"What if I pay for you?" Danny pleaded. "Come on. You're not the only one who needs a distraction. In case you forgot, Bryan and I broke up—again—so one way or another, I'm going out tonight."

"And you seriously want me to come?"

"Yeah, Sadie, I do. Believe it or not, I miss having you around. You know, how we used to hang out before you joined the geek squad?"

I elbowed him in the ribs, but giggled. "Shut up, Danny."

"Fine, fine. At least let me text you the address. Jackson's a shitty wingman, and if I'm gonna get my mind off Bryan, I'm gonna need back up."

"Okay," I sighed, still grinning, "but I'm not making any promises."

"These days? That doesn't surprise me."

The bell went off at the front of the room, and Harris folded his arms on his desk.

"Time! If you've catalyzed the reaction correctly, you should now be looking at a crystal. Now, for the part of that last experiment I'm sure you'll all enjoy—you can eat it."

Danny and I shared a look before glancing down at the ice-like crystal in the beaker.

"What do you think?" he asked, scrunching up his nose.

I shook my head with a pout. "Thanks, but I'd rather not risk it."

"Lydia!"

The whole class jumped as Scott leapt out of his seat. He was staring at Lydia with wide eyes, his face blank with panic.

Lydia gave him a nasty look, the crystal halfway to her mouth. "What?"

Scott turned to me for help. I didn't have his super senses, but judging by the desperation on his face, I could only assume that Lydia eating the crystal would be very, very bad. I didn't know if Isaac had tampered with the experiment, added the kanima venom, or simply found some other way to hurt her in the meantime. But I trusted Scott, and I didn't want to find out the hard way.

Bracing myself for the worst, I raised my hand.

"Um, Mr. Harris, do you really think it's safe for us to be eating these? I mean, we're really not supposed to be eating here in the first place, and we just ran like four different experiments with different chemicals. If someone made a mistake, it might not be physically obvious, so even if the crystals look fine, we could be eating something really dangerous…right…?"

Danny nodded firmly next to me, as if his agreement might soften the blow; it didn't.

"Miss Bennet, anyone who looked at my grade book would assume that you were a relatively intelligent person, but today you seem determined to put that perception to the test. Do you really think it's safe for you to be questioning my judgment as you chemistry instructor?"

"…probably not…"

"At last, something we can agree on. Everyone carry on."

Lydia smirked at me from the front of the room, ignoring my logic, my look of panic, my pleading eyes. She was too sure of herself to believe she could have made a mistake on an easy lab like this. There was nothing I could do as she placed the crystal between her teeth and bit down.

I held my breath as she chewed, waiting for her to shudder, to shake, to collapse. It had taken a few seconds to sink in with Stiles. Maybe there was a delayed reaction. But Lydia was still eating the crystal. She didn't so much as cough. She shrugged, using her fingers to wipe the residue from her lip and offering the other half to Isaac. He declined, his jaw clenched and his eyes dark.

I stared, my heart turning to ice. I didn't even notice the worried looks Scott, Stiles, and Allison were sending me. I knew that Lydia couldn't be the kanima. I knew it. The one thing I didn't know was—if she wasn't the kanima, and she wasn't a werewolf, and she wasn't human enough to pass Derek's test—then what on earth was she?