{Latin ^ Meaning Hide and Seek} Wednesday, February 2nd 2011 {Day 25}
{Words: 3475}
Jackson redirects his attention to Stiles with a mocking tone. "Call the cops," he taunts.
Stiles shakes his head, taken aback by the suggestion. "No."
"What do you mean, no?" Jackson hisses.
Stiles scoffs and responds, "I mean no. Do you want me to say it in Spanish? No, pendeja."
{Spanish ^ Asshole}
Morwen can't help but chuckle softly at Stiles' response. They find an empty teacher's desk and take a seat, placing their feet quietly on the desk. "You heard him, pendeja," they add.
{Spanish ^ Asshole}
Jackson scoffs as he confronts Morwen, bracing himself in front of them and forcefully knocking their feet off the desk. "His father has an entire Sheriff's Department armed. Call him. Now."
Morwen quickly jumps to their feet, a sneer on their face, sensing the tension escalating. Lydia steps in, positioning herself in the middle. "I'll make the call," she says, swiftly raising her phone to her ear.
Frantically, Stiles interjects, "Hold on, Lydia, just wait—" but Jackson pushes him back, preventing him from intervening.
In a burst of anger, Morwen leaps over the desk and grabs Jackson by the collar, their sneer intensifying as they speak. "You know what, Jackson? One day, you're going to lay your hands on the wrong person. Today might be that day, hijo de puta."
{Spanish ^ Motherfucker}
Stiles was taken aback by the sudden display of over-protectiveness. He quickly looked to Scott for assistance, and together they managed to pull Morwen off Jackson. "It's okay, take a breather. I'm fine. See?" Stiles reassured, trying to diffuse the tension.
Jackson's eyes widened with fear, stumbling backward and landing on the floor. Lydia, with a gentle touch, helped him up. "Fucking McCall's," she muttered under her breath.
Scott approached his brother, concerned about Morwen's escalating anger. He noticed their heavy breathing and reacted just in time to narrowly avoid their fist, which hit the wall behind him instead, causing bones to audibly crack. "Take a deep breath!" Scott urged, trying to calm them down. "You can hit him later. Right now, let's focus on finding a way out of here."
Morwen scoffed, returning to their seat at the teachers' desk. They hastily realigned their dislocated bones, wincing at the discomfort. Scott observed them with concern, recognizing the pain they were enduring.
Meanwhile, Lydia's desperation grew as she pleaded for help on the phone. Her voice carried a mix of fear and urgency. "Yes, we're at Beacon Hills High School. We're trapped here, and we need you to send help immediately... Hello?" Lydia's expression shifted from hope to disbelief as she realized the call had abruptly ended. She slowly pulled the phone away from her ear, shock, and confusion written across her face.
"She hung up on me," Lydia whispered, her voice trembling. The sudden rejection left her feeling vulnerable and uncertain. Her breaths became rapid, and her hands shook involuntarily.
Morwen hurried over, their hands gently holding hers in a reassuring grip. "We're going to find a way out of here, okay?" They exchanged a knowing glance with Scott, silently conveying their frustration with the situation.
