Pulchritudinous Insanity || Derek Hale

Chapter 06|| Hereditary

January 22nd, 2011
The McCall Residence

"You'll never guess what I overheard my father say on the phone this morning!" Stiles exclaimed as he busted through our front door and rushed into our living room where we were both sitting. That poor man has never known privacy since his son was born. "And yes, Scott. I've had a lot of Adderall again," he added when he noticed Scott's look on his face.

"What'd you find?" I asked, turning my full attention to him. With Stiles, you never really know what to expect in these kinds of situations, so I'm always quite intrigued.

"They released Derek this morning," he said, plopping onto the couch beside Scott with an annoyed huff.

"What do you mean they released Derek?" Scott questioned, springing from his seat in exasperation.

"I mean he's free, as in no longer in jail," Stiles clarified with a sarcastic edge to his voice. "According to my father, someone came forward last night as an alibi claiming they were with him the night of the murder."

"Who?" I wondered, feigning curiosity despite the fact I knew full well that I was the one he was talking about. There's no way I could admit that to them after all the trouble and illegal lengths they went to put him away, let alone how I knew he was innocent in the first place.

He shook his head. "I don't know, my father refused to tell me." Thank you, Noah, I thanked mentally, relieved he took my words into consideration. "Oh, and get this! The dead girl we found was Derek's sister of all people."

I looked around at the mention of Laura, spotting her sitting in the same armchair as a couple of nights before. She said a quiet "thank you" with a smile of appreciation. No problem, I mouthed, returning the smile.

★

I marched across the parking lot of Toni's Grill and Bar, my hands shoved into my pockets for warmth. It was unusually cold, so much so that I could see my breath in front of me with every output or air. Today was the worst day to walk to work.

Halfway there, I heard a noise from behind me. I stopped walking, turning to glance behind me. Upon seeing nothing there, I moved to continue on my way, only to let out an embarrassing yelp at the sudden sight of someone appearing in front of me. "My God, Derek. You seriously have to stop doing that," I scolded, smacking him on the arm.

"Sorry." He looked at me for a few seconds, saying nothing.

"What?" I wonder curiously, my eyebrows knitting together. "Do I have something on my face?"

I lightly touched my face with my frosty fingertips, but he reached out and pulled my cold hand away with his warm one. "No. You look as good as you always do," he spoke softly. My cheeks flushed, but luckily—or hopefully—he couldn't tell because they were already red from the cold. "I, uh, I was told someone came forward as my alibi for the night of the murder. I'm guessing that was you?"

I nodded. "You didn't have to do that you know. I would have been fine on my own," he admitted.

"I know, but I wanted to," I said, nodding my head again. "Besides, can you imagine what the other dudes would do to a guy like you in jail? You'd be their bitch."

"Was that a-"

"It was. But I regretted it as soon as I said it, so let's just move on," I interrupted, cringing at my own joke, receiving a muffled snort from Derek.