Chapter 4 - Play The Guitar On The MTV

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***DEREK***

Could this werelynx kid be any more presumptuous? Here he is, inviting everyone and their sister - almost literally - into my loft. My living space. Who gave him the right to...okay, Derek, I think, kneading my forehead. Calm down. No need to start snapping necks and rolling heads just yet. Hunter and Skylar aren’t that evil. Yet.

As soon as we’re all safely inside the loft, I round on the two Brits - Skylar, who has to keep her hood up and her back turned to avoid the sun streaming through the large window on the other end of the room; and Hunter, who’s leaning casually against the wall, unwrapping a Tootsie Pop and sticking it in his mouth, holding it like a cigarette the whole time.

“All right, you guys need to explain yourselves,” I say, looking between Skylar and Hunter.

“Gee, it’s a long story,” Hunter says sweetly. He pauses to lick the blood-red lollipop as long as possibly. “Where would you like to start, O Alpha Of The Pack?”

“First, I’d like to know how you can be a werelynx and a vampire and still be siblings,” I say. I look around and see Scott, Stiles, and Allison leaning forward attentively, waiting for the answer just like me.

“I’m adopted,” Hunter says.

“No, you’re not,” says Isaac. “You guys have the same-shaped ears, same eye color. There’s no way you’re not related.”

“Then where’d I get my eyebrows from?” Hunter asks, raising his huge, bushy ones. “Her mum and dad don’t have them, and-”

Skylar holds up her hand. “Enough,” she grumbles. “Hunt, you need to learn when to stop running with your jokes, even when they fall flat.”

I get knocked down, but I get up again!” Hunter sings. “You’re never gonna keep me down! I get knocked-

“Cut it out!” I yell, baring my fangs for a split second. “You’re already almost as bad as Stiles.”

“Don’t act like you don’t like that song,” Stiles says, grinning.

I spare a moment to glare at him instead of Hunter. “Stiles, you weren’t even born yet when that song came out. And it was friggin’ everywhere. You have no idea.”

“I think I can guess, though,” Stiles says, crossing his arms. “We do still have viral hits these days. Ever heard of ‘Gangnam Style?’ ‘Do the Harlem Shake?’” He says that one in a deep voice, then puts on a higher, funny-accented voice for his next title drop: “‘What Does The Fox Say?’”

I shake my head. “Stiles, believe it or not, I do have internet access, so I know a thing or two about viral videos. And let me tell you this - they’re all annoying as shit. That’s the most important thing to learn.”

“Even ‘Gangnam Style?’” Stiles asks, pouting.

“I think ‘Gentleman’ is better,” Jackson says. “But that’s just me.”

“It’s easier to do the ‘Gentleman’ dance anyway,” Hunter says. “I’m a mother-father gentleman!

“What did you just say?” I ask. Then I roll my eyes as, rather than answer my question, Hunter starts doing a weird-ass dance, swaying his hips from side to side and holding his chin in one hand. Then he raises his hands in the air, his elbows bent at roughly ninety-degree angles, repeating the not-really-curse from before.

“Is it out of your bloody system yet?” Skylar asks, shooting her own glare at Hunter.

I’m a mother' - all right, it’s out of my bloody system,” Hunter says.

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