Alone • Liam Dunbar

Three

At the end of the school day, I headed toward the library to meet up with Scott. He texted for me to join him as he studied, and I figured it wouldn't be the worst thing in the world to stay on his good side for slightly selfish reasons.

Besides that, I also wanted to check out the newly constructed library.

Over the summer, the school had it rebuilt. The last one was practically falling apart at the seams when a certain kanima jumped through its ceiling, so a redesign was long overdue.

A few workers were huddled under the scaffolding in the main part of the building when I walked in. They were working quietly, so no one really minded them, and everyone wanted to use the new facility already anyway. Scott sat with Kira and Malia, the three of them on one of the wide wooden tables near the main desk. They smile when they see me approaching, Scott using his legs to reach under the table and gently kick out the chair across from him.

"How was your first day of sophomore year?" he asks as I take the offered chair, placing my bag and helmet down next to the various homework and textbooks they had laid out.

"Life-changing," I smirk.

I look around, admiring the new architecture of the building with its colossal main-feature window as well as the indoor balcony. My eyes drift back to the first floor, searching for two seniors who I had assumed would be here, too.

"Where's Lydia and Stiles?"

Lydia was only taking one class this semester, so she should've been able to hang out in her significant amount of downtime. As for Stiles, I assumed he'd be impatiently waiting to rant on and on about "maybe" Theo and whatever sinister plot he was apparently the mastermind of.

"Lydia had to take one of Miss Martin's students home. They were having a bad day," Kira explains. She chooses to say the words in a ginger tone, knowing the circumstances of Miss Martin's job could often be sensitive. 

Outside of being a substitute for our short-staffed school, she was also a counselor. She dealt with troubled teens who faced deep emotional turmoil on a daily basis, and would sometimes seek Lydia's help in comforting them. They felt better speaking to someone their own age about their problems, and Lydia never minded lending her mother a helping hand. 

"What was it this time?" I inquire about the student.

"Night terrors," Kira answers.

Her words reluctantly pull me into the memory of the paralyzing dream I had this morning, but I quickly shake the feeling off and refocus on where a certain hyperactive nutjob was.

"And what about Stiles? He still chasing the new kid?" My question makes Scott sigh tiredly, his youthful face aging far beyond his years.

"Probably. He's stuck on the fact that Theo was bitten by Ethan and Aiden's Alpha."

"Their dead Alpha? That's convenient," I reply.

If we didn't have anyone that could corroborate Theo's story, it meant we'd have to take his word for it. That implied some level of trust that we just didn't have with him. I didn't want to support Stiles' obsessive behavior, but at the same time, I wasn't going to completely disregard his suspicions unless Theo gave us a proper reason to. 

"You're starting to sound like Stiles," Kira teases, making me shrug. 

"He has said he has a keen eye for evil."

"Perceptive," Scott corrects me on my quote. 

I wave him off dismissively for it. He looks to Malia after, sending a nod her way. It's as if he's confirming the right for her to share something with me.