The Wild Side | Stiles Stilinski | One

11 - Strike For Two

"What if I booked the three of us a spa day?"

"Eh..."

"Horseback riding?"

"No."

"Ooh! I could get us reservations at that hibachi place we went to for Mom's birthday?"

"Okay, do you want to be friends with Allison or date her?"

Lydia reached over from the driver's seat and smacked me. We were on our way to school, windows down, radio on, Lydia talking over it with her constant stream of ideas. Ever since she'd found out about my Saturday lunch with Allison, Scott, and Stiles, she'd become weirdly fixated on Allison. I wasn't sure if Lydia saw her as a challenge, or if she was just getting territorial about me making other friends. Either way, she was more determined than ever to win Allison over.

"We could throw another party," she proposed, "only this time Allison is the guest of honor. Ooh, and that means we could go dress shopping and—"

"Lydia," I interrupted, "can I make a suggestion?"

"Literally, why do you think I'm talking to you?"

"Allison doesn't need a party, or horses, or a makeover. She just wants to do something normal, you know? Let's go to the movies, or grab lunch at the food court, something low key."

"Low key," Lydia scoffed. "Easy for you to say. You talk to her all the time, and every time she sees me it's like she freaks out. You'd think I was a Rottweiler."

"Okay, that is not true," I laughed. "So you make her a little nervous! She's shy, but I know she likes you. You just have to make her comfortable."

Lydia did not reply, but seemed to mull this over as we pulled into the parking lot.

It felt like there were more people around than usual. Instead of going inside or hanging out by their lockers, huge groups of students were lingering on the sidewalk, all walking toward the back. If that hadn't caught my attention, the few extra cars did.

"Is that a police cruiser?" I asked, pointing to the side of the parking lot.

"Hm, yup," Lydia confirmed. "Congratulations, Scarlett! You have eyes."

"What are the police doing here?"

"I don't know, drug assembly?"

"No, no, there's definitely something going on. Can you pull around back?"

"Scarlett..."

"Come on, Lyd. Don't you want to know what's going on? I thought Queen Bee Lydia was supposed to know everything."

She rolled her eyes at the jab, but finally agreed to do one single loop of the parking lot.

We weren't even able to make it all the way around. In the back parking lot, a huge section had been blocked off by a police barrier, teachers and deputies bustling behind it while students buzzed on the perimeter. At the heart of it all sat one of the school buses.

"Oh my God," Lydia gasped, pulling over to get a better look.

The back door of the bus had been pulled—no—torn open, and was hanging off its hinges. Blood was everywhere; it splattered on the windows, covered the back seats, and smeared along the outside of the bus as if someone had been trying to get away. There had to be someone, I concluded, because even at this distance I could see the red handprints dried against the yellow paint. As if that wasn't chilling enough, there were four deep claw marks scratched into what was meant to be the inside of the door.

I stared at the gashes, repressing a shiver. The lines were spaced far apart, the whole pattern nearly a foot wide. Whatever creature had made it must've been huge...