The Wild Side | Stiles Stilinski | One

20 - Payback's A Pain

I'd been telling Lydia the truth about my history project. I was way behind on my work, partially because I hadn't been able to use my right arm, partially because I'd been staying up late every night to research shapeshifters. I had every intention of bullshitting my history project, but I still needed to get it done. I slogged away though the entire period, hating myself for falling behind, but still able to appreciate the one upside of procrastinating. Burying myself in my work meant that I didn't need to talk to Allison, or come up with any excuses for Scott's suddenly evasive behavior.

But Scott couldn't avoid her forever. In the end, she was able to corner him in Economics. I'd walked with her and Lydia from history, filing in right behind Stiles's colorful button down shirt as Finstock yelled at all of us to move faster. I was so desperate to avoid him after our earlier altercation that I made a beeline for the back of the room and sat down in the first desk I saw.

Stiles was about to sit down in front of me when Scott hissed at him, indicating the empty desk behind him, and even though Stiles moved to join him, Allison struck first. She pushed Stiles's backpack over the chair with an overly cheery smile, waving him back toward me. I ducked my head to avoid her sly look; my friends were all lovely, but insufferable.

Stiles and I could only watch as Scott and Allison conversed awkwardly. Scott kept trying to duck out of the conversation without hurting Allison's feelings, but judging by her expression, it wasn't working very well. Thankfully, Finstock cut them off by slamming his book down on his desk.

"Let's settle down," he barked, though Scott and Allison had been the only two talking. "Let's start with a quick summary of last night's reading. Greenberg, put your hand down. Everyone knows you did the reading. How 'bout...McCall!"

Scott looked up guiltily from his notebook. "Wha—"

"The reading," Coach prompted, leaning on the front of his desk.

"...last night's reading?"

"Nah, how about uh, the reading of The Gettysburg Address?"

"...what?"

"That's sarcasm," Finstock continued, unimpressed. "You familiar with the term 'sarcasm,' McCall?"

"Very," Scott mumbled, shooting a glare back at Stiles, who grinned proudly until I jabbed him in the back with my pen.

"Did you do the reading or not?" Finstock pressed, ignoring the few laughs from our peers.

"Um...I—I think I forgot..."

"Nice work, McCall," Finstock shot, pushing himself off his desk. "It's not like you're averaging a D in this class. I mean, come on, buddy. You know I can't keep you on the team if you have a D!"

He'd lowered his voice a fraction, but people were still laughing. Scott sank farther down in his seat, nodding nervously. I cleared my throat, ready to go full Hermione Granger and distract the class with an unprompted summary of the chapter, but before I could, I heard a faint beeping noise. Stiles stilled in front of me, then scrambled to fish something out of his pocket. He slipped the coach's phone out under his desk, the heartbeat app still pulled up on the screen.

"Turn the volume off, dumbass!" I hissed, jabbing him in the back again.

"Ow! I'm going! I'm going!"

Stiles muted the phone, but kept it out so we could watch as Scott's heartbeat began to rise steadily from the high nineties. Coach Finstock was still hunched over the desk in front of him, grilling him incessantly.

"How about you summarize the previous night's reading? No? How about the, uh, the night before that? How about you summarize anything you've ever read? In your entire life!"