Weight of the World

17

While walking through the halls, Stiles said, "I just talked to my dad, who just talked to Jackson, and I've got really terrible, horrible, very, very bad news."

"I think I already know," Scott answered.

Stiles frowned. "All right, I only found one thing online called a kanima. It's a werejaguar from South America that goes after murderers."

Molly narrowed her eyes. "That thing was definitely not a jaguar."

Stiles shot her a look. "Yeah, and I'm not exactly a murderer and neither are you."

"What the hell does that mean? I'm a murderer of the evil supernatural."

"That sounds worse than I think you meant it to be."

"No, it's exactly how I meant it to sound."

Scott cut them off. "Okay, guys. Don't argue. Yeah, but did you two see it kill somebody, which is probably why it tried to kill you two. And it's still trying to kill you two, and it probably won't stop until the two of you are dead."

Stiles glanced to Molly, then to Scott and said, "You know, sometimes I really begin to question this friendship."

During Economics, Molly sat behind Stiles, and Jackson took the empty seat behind Scott. "Hey, testicle left and right. Side chick. What the hell is a kanima?"

Stiles glanced at a glaring Molly a look before warning Jackson quietly, "Careful, or she'll hit you."

Coach entered the room. "All right, listen to me. A quick warning before we begin our review. Some of you, like McCall, might want to start their own study groups, because tomorrow's midterm is so profoundly difficult -- I'm not even too sure I could pass it. Okay, I need a volunteer at the board to answer the first question. Who's got it, huh? Come on, let's go, buddy."

"Paralyzed from the neck down," Jackson continued. "Do you have any idea what that feels like?"

Stiles exchanged a look with Molly. "She and I are familiar with the sensation."

Scott frowned. "Wait -- why would Derek test you? Why would he think that it's you?"

Jackson shrugged. "How should I know?"

Molly glanced at Lydia to see her writing something down. "Wait a minute. Are they thinking it's Lydia?"

Jackson met her eyes. "I don't know. All I heard was her name and something about Chemistry."

"Jackson!" Coach cried. "Do you have something you want to share with the rest of the class?"

"Um -- just an undying admiration for my coach."

Coach gave him a sarcastic smile. "That's really kind of you. Now shut up! Shut it! Anybody else?"

"How do we know it's not her?" Scott asked in a quieter tone.

Stiles let out a sigh. "Because I looked into the eyes of that thing, okay? And what I saw was pure evil. And when I look into Lydia's eyes, I only see 50% evil. All right, maybe 60. You know, but no more than 40 on a good day."

Molly sighed and rolled her eyes as Scott said, "Stiles, that's not a very good argument."

Stiles turned to Scott. "I'm aware of that, but I swear it's not her. It can't be, all right? Lydia's fine."

"Lydia," Coach said, calling her attention.

She turned around to face the class as tears filled her eyes. Molly frowned at what Lydia had written. Coach couldn't either. "Okay then, anybody else want to try answering? This time in English?"