Midnight Scarlet » Stilinski

Nine

                                                        Chapter Nine

                                                            • Aubrey •

 “You are a total badass,” Scott says, eyeing me with a half-grin. “Third day of school and you’ve already skipped. Congratulations.”

            I playfully shove his shoulder as we walk down the hall. “Oh, shut up. It was Lydia’s idea.”

            He raises an eyebrow. “Somehow, I think you turning into a dolphin sounds more realistic than you being friends with Lydia.”

            “I never said we were friends. In fact, she probably still hates me, which is why the whole ‘charity’ thing is just so confusing.” I sigh, making a face and letting out a groan. “God, has Hell frozen over?”

            “Last I checked, it was empty.” I shoot him a did-you-hit-your-head-on-a-rock look and he explains, “Shakespeare once said ‘hell is empty and all the devils are here.’”

            The devils certainly are here. I’m only one of them.

            I bump into him, a small smile on my face. “You’re much smarter than you look, Scottie.”

            He salutes me with two fingers, leaning closer. “Yes, I’m just you’re average Einstein.” Then, he seems to have noticed what I called him, and he stops mid-stride. “Really? Scottie?”

            Laughing, I continue on down the hall to my first block. Over my shoulder I call, “Like the dog. You have that sense about you.” His eyes widen and his face falls, which makes me laugh harder.

            My good mood has continued since last night, though it briefly went away at breakfast with Derek. His silence was so awkward, with only the crunch of my cereal to fill the air. Peter thought I would try to run away, so I’ve been constantly escorted. Personally, I’ll take a silent breakfast with Derek over the daily interrogation with Peter anytime.

            Walking into Chemistry, I slide into my seat and whip out a clean notebook. Directions on the board say that we’ll be having a lab today. Since that involves equipment and a partner, I’m instantly nervous. Especially the ‘having a partner’ part.

            The teacher― I think is name is Mr. Harris― walks in, his cold glare sweeping over the rows of students. The ones that were leaning on lab tables talking and laughing with their friends quickly disperse and go back to their own seats. Mr. Harris walks slowly to the front of the room, his shoes echoing off the walls.

Geez, this classroom feels like breakfast all over again. Well, minus the creepy sourpuss of a wolf that doesn’t blink. Or smile.

Suddenly, the door bursts open and a blur of a mess runs in. He sort of trips over his own feet as he rushes over, but makes no effort to stay quiet― I can tell he’s not graceful in any way. The activity stops Mr. Harris in the middle of a sentence, and he turns his head slowly to look at the boy who just arrived. The kid’s arms are full of loose papers and his clothes are crumpled; the collar of his plaid shirt isn’t tucked down. His short hair is the color of muddy water, and his chocolate brown eyes widen as he sees Mr. Harris stride towards him. The boy’s eyes lock with mine across the room, and as my heart pangs, I realize where I know him from― he was sitting with Scott at lunch the other day.