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CHAPTER EIGHT.
"MAYBE IT WAS my blood on the door," Scott whispers over to Stiles as the duo continues talking in Mr. Harris' chemistry class.
"Could have been animal blood. You know, maybe you caught a rabbit or something." Stiles states still trying to eliminate some of his friends suspicions, away.
"And did what?" Scott questions, not sure what this inference Stiles was making, was coming to.
"Ate it..."
Scott asks, alarmed,"Raw?"
"No. You stopped to bake it in a little werewolf oven─I don't know. You're the one who can't remember anything." Stiles sarcastically comments as Mr. Harris looks over to the duo, ready to call them out.
"Mr. Stilinski. If that's your idea of a hushed whisper, you might want to pull the headphones out every once in a while," Stiles looks up to his teacher in short confusion,"I think you and Mr. McCall would benefit, from a little distance...yes?"
"No─"
Mr. Harris points over to two other seats, further apart from one another. The two sophomores hurried over to these new seats.
"Let me know if the separation anxiety gets too much." Mr. Harris jokes as Stiles lets out a scoff, continuing to walk off to his new seat.
Stiles takes a seat, happily, next to Evee, after realizing who he really was sitting next to. Now with a smile in his face, Evee starts up a short conversation,"Stiles, number one, how do you expect to keep this werewolf thing a secret when you whisper loud enough for your dad to hear you? And, two, are you really convincing yourself that Scott didn't do anything?"
"I wasn't that loud," Stiles exclaims as Evee nodded at this, skeptically,"and how do you know he did something."
"First of all, your paragraph filled texts, is just enough evidence. But why not bring up the fact that─" The Sharp girl stops talking as a new gallon of pain came to her head. She did her best to put pressure on the 'migraine.' Yep...the migraine...it was just that,"Not again..." she mumbled as she slowly dropped her led pencil as she looks over to the Stiles,"Hypothetically, what do you do when you feel...things."
"Feel things...as in what? Like you have a crush on someone," Stiles looks around to make sure Mr. Harris wasn't listening in or staring at him,"I mean...is this someone's first initial S? Hypothetically speaking, of course."
