Jumping out of Stiles' Jeep, Lia ran around the back and came up beside her boyfriend. Roman quickly, despite the sleep deprivation hanging tightly over his head, climbed out the back doors and ran over to Allison. "Where is she?" Aurelia asked, her hand tightly clasping Stiles' as she approached the girl. Allison pointed them in the direction of Lydia, who stood with her arms folded. Not allowing herself anywhere closer to the school than the distance she already was. "Lydia?" She called out.
"It's the same thing." The girl spoke before turning over her shoulder so she was facing her friends. "Same thing as the pool. I got into the car heading somewhere totally different, and ended up here." Lydia explained, her arms hitting her sides in frustration. "And you told me to call you if there's a dead body—"
"—You found a dead body?" Stiles cut in, the pitch of his voice raised a substantial amount.
"Not yet." Lydia snarked, pulling her jacket tighter around her body.
Looking around exasperatedly, Stiles' mouth fell slack. "Not yet? What do you mean? Lydia, you're supposed to call us after you find the dead body—"
"Oh, no, I'm not doing that again. You find the dead body from now on—" Lydia yelled, slowly however, Aurelia released Stiles' hand and began to move away.
"How are we supposed to find the dead body? You're always the one finding the dead body—" Stiles yelled back, only lowering his volume when he heard Scott speak.
"Guys. I found the dead body." Scott announced, causing his friends to pull their attention away from Stiles and to the murdered cop who lay bleeding on the school wall. The crimson liquid seeping down the letters that read 'Beacon Hills High School'.
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"Idioms, analogies, metaphors, and similes, all tools the writer uses to tell their story." Ms Blake told, walking between the rows of tables in her classroom. "Lydia," She stopped. "I wasn't aware you had so many hidden talents." She complimented, examining the delicately drawn tree in place of the strawberry blondes work.
Looking up at the teacher through her thick black lashes, Lydia smirked. "You and every guy I've ever dated."
Taken aback by the teen's words, Jennifer stood straighter and smoothed out her skirt. "Oh, um, well, that was an idiom, by the way." She informed, before moving away from Lydia's desk. "Idioms are something of a secret to the people who know the language or the culture. They're phrases that only make sense if you know keywords. Saying 'jump the gun' is meaningful only if you know about the starting gun in a race, or a phrase like 'seeing the whole board' is—"
