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"Maybe it was my blood on the door." Scott whispered.
I slowly diverted my gaze from the board, ensuring Harris wasn't going to catch us chatting. A detention with him is literally my worst nightmare. Derek and werewolves be damned.
"Could have been animal blood." I suggested in a hushed tone. "You know, maybe you caught a rabbit or something."
"And did what?" He asked, puzzled.
"Ate it." I deadpanned.
"Raw?" I raised my eyebrows at that, a smirk creeping onto my face.
Seriously, that's what he's worried about right now?
"No, you stopped to bake it in a little werewolf oven." I shrugged. "I don't know, you're the one who can't remember anything."
"Mr. Stilinski." Harris interrupted, imposing his douchebag presence. "If that's your idea of a hushed whisper, you might want to pull out your headphones every once in a while."
"Well—" I began, but he cut me off. Probably for the best.
"I think you and Mr. McCall would benefit from a little distance, yes?" He suggested, eyebrows raised.
"No." I blurted out, only for him to instruct us to separate.
Scott shook his head as he moved to the first bench with Lauryn at his side, who shook her head with a disappointed glance.
"Let me know if the separation anxiety gets to be too much." I scoffed at his comment as he went scribbling on the board.
A moment may have passed, maybe not even that, before Lauryn yelled, pointing at the window.
"Hey, I think they found something!"
We all rushed toward the window. The paramedics were wheeling a man tied to a stretcher, multiple bleeding wounds on his body with blood smeared all over his face.
"That's not a rabbit." Scott muttered, stepping back in realization.
"Arghhhh!" Suddenly, the man woke up with a scream.
"Eahhhh!" The girls in the back screamed in surprise.
"Okay." I smirked, stepping back toward Scott to comfort him. "This is good, he got up, he's not dead. Dead guys can't do that."
Unless he's a zombie. My eyes practically bulged out at that. Oh, please, for the love of all that's holy, don't let him be a zombie. I'm not exactly prepared for apocalypse scenarios like that.
"Stiles." Scott called, desperate in his tone. "I did that."
The periods until lunch were awfully silent; Scott was worried and stressed while I was busy surfing through the local channels for any updates about the victim's identity.
"Dreams aren't memories, Scott." I said as I followed him to our standard table, the plates in our hands clattering coordinatedly with the loud noise from the canteen.
"Then it wasn't a dream." Scott replied as he took a seat. I walked over and sat opposite him. "Something happened last night, and I can't remember what."
"I have a thought, and you might not like it." I announced. Scott sipped his juice with a curious gaze.
"We might ask Derek about what could have happened last night." I suggested.
"Are you being serious right now?" He deadpanned. "What makes you so sure he would have answers for this? In fact, don't you think it's way too coincidental that he gets released yesterday night and this happens?"
"There are too many things still in the dark, Scott." I sighed. "But we'll figure it out."
"The handiwork on the school bus was yours, I believe." Somebody uttered next to me.
I let out a small yelp as I hadn't noticed her presence; it was like she just appeared out of nowhere. Even Scott was perplexed.
"Hey, Tara." I gulped, blinking rapidly in shock as I glanced at my right.
"Stiles." She gave me a nod before darting a glare at Scott. "I asked you a question."
"Y-Yeah, we don't know for sure."
"You don't know what?"
Amber placed her plate next to mine and sat on my left.
"Uh, nothing." I shrugged. She shot me a piercing look, one that wanted to know more. "It's about the chemistry test; Harris is being a douche again."
"Well, he never stopped being one." She commented dismissively but shrugged and went with the flow.
"And Oh. My. God. Stiles." Amber suddenly grabbed my arm and jerked me toward her. "I didn't know you played lacrosse so well."
"Neither did I." I muttered.
"Oh, come on, you were awesome out there." She insisted with a smirk and leaned in closer to whisper in my ear. "Almost makes me want to eat you up."
Her fingers trailed sensually over my arms before she gripped my biceps.
I narrowed my eyes and gripped her chin before tilting it, gently pressing closer and whispering back. "If you want to eat, be ready to finish it because I won't let you settle for a bite."
"Is that a challenge?" She asked, raising her brows.
"Maybe it is."
"Ahg-Ahg." Scott coughed, pointing at Tara with his eyes, and I turned to look at her, finding her shooting a cold, daggered glare my way.
"It looks like somebody's enjoying their lunch." Lydia popped up at our table.
She placed her plate next to Scott's and sat down.
"Well, not anymore." Tara muttered, and I couldn't help but chuckle.
"What was that?" Lydia asked smugly.
"Nothing your glorious carrion mind should be bothered with." Tara retorted.
All of a sudden, Jackson's group sauntered around the table.
"Why are they sitting with us?" I asked Scott, who simply shrugged.
"You guys are popular now, duh." Amber commented, munching into her salad.
"I hate it already." I muttered.
Danny sat next to Amber, while Jackson settled down in the middle side of the table between Danny and Lydia. While Mindy sat next to Scott and Allison settled opposite Jackson.
I gave Danny a smile, which he disregarded with a sigh, making me scowl.
"So I hear they're saying it's some type of animal attack." Danny started. "Probably a cougar."
"I heard mountain lion." Jackson spoke up.
"A cougar is a mountain lion, isn't it?" Lydia asked.
"It is." Scott answered.
"Who cares." Jackson barked with gritted teeth. "The guy's probably a homeless tweaker who's gonna die anyway."
"Actually, I found out who it is." I replied, drawing their attention my way. I opened my phone and played the news. "Check it out."
"The Sheriff's department won't speculate on the details of the incident but confirmed the victim, Garrison Meyers did survive the attack." The report showed a picture of Garrison. "Meyers was taken to the local hospital where he remains in critical condition."
"I know this guy." Scott said.
"You do?" I asked, for a moment wondering whether he remembered the dream.
"Yeah, when I used to take the bus, back when I lived with my dad." He elaborated. "He was the driver."
"Can we talk about something slightly more fun, please?" Lydia suggested, and it really did feel like it would be good to steer the conversation away from going any more grim, considering Scott was involved in it.
"Like, oh, where are we going tomorrow night?" Lydia asked us, and Scott and I both blinked in surprise as it was news for us.
"We are?" I asked.
"Yeah, it's the match celebration." She replied. "And I'm not sitting home again watching lacrosse videos, so if we are hanging out, we are doing something fun."
"Oh, I can't, I have plans." I immediately stepped back as I heard the word 'hang out'. Hot girls and hanging out is a combination worse than torture.
But Scott didn't seem to understand that yet.
"With whom?" Lydia asked, not believing.
"With us." Amber answered, pointing at both Tara and her.
"Fine." Lydia huffed before turning her attention solely to Scott. "What about you? You wanna hang out?"
She suddenly whispered into his ears. "Allison will be there."
"Sure." Scott nodded. "Sounds fun."
I couldn't help but wince internally.
"You know what else sounds fun?" Jackson asked sarcastically. "Stabbing myself in the face with a fork."
"How about bowling? You love to bowl." Lydia suggested.
"Yeah, with actual competition." Jackson replied. "He doesn't even seem to know how to bowl."
That got a reaction out of Scott. A jab to his pride, but I knew it was a trap set by Jackson to embarrass Scott, and he walked right into it.
"How do you know I'm not actual competition?" Scott questioned, unable to handle the humiliation in front of Allison. "In fact, I'm a great bowler."
"You're a terrible bowler." I yelled as we both walked out of the cafeteria. Lunch was about to end, and Scott and I had stepped outside before anyone else.
"I know!" He yelled back. "I'm such an idiot, but I just couldn't let him insult me like that."
"Not in front of Allison, you mean." I said.
"Yeah, that too." He shrugged.
"God, it was like watching a car wreck." I commented. "First, it turned into this weird group date thing; just think about how awkward it would be for you and Allison, and then out of nowhere came that word."
"Hang out." Scott cried in disbelief.
"You don't hang out with hot girls, okay? It's like death." I smirked. "Once it's hanging out, you might as well be her gay best friend; you and Danny can start hanging out."
"How is this happening? I either killed a guy or I didn't." Scott mumbled.
"I don't think Danny likes me very much." I guessed.
"I just want to ask Allison out on a date and not hang out." Scott kept rambling.
"Am I not attractive to gay guys?" I asked no one in particular.
"I make the first line, and the team captain wants to destroy me, and now..." He trailed off, noticing the time. ".. I'm gonna be late for work."
"Wait, Scott, you didn't…" But he didn't stop; he kept his pace and vanished into the crowd. "Am I attractive to gay guys... you didn't answer my question."
Guess we'll never know.