Imagines with Jenna Ortega

Stalkers at Nevermore 8

Y/N clenched the sapphire earring tight in her palm, slipping it carefully into her pocket. Whatever it was, she knew it was a clue—and she wasn't going to lose it.

The sound of sirens broke through the cemetery's eerie silence. Headlights cut through the mist as an ambulance pulled up alongside Principal Dort's car. The man hurried out first, his face tense, the stormlight reflecting off his glasses.

"Y/N!" Dort called, rushing over as paramedics jumped from the ambulance. "What were you doing here? Leaving campus without permission? You could have been killed!" His words were sharp, but his voice carried something heavier—fear.

Y/N tried to steady herself, but the blood dripping from her arm made her stumble. The medics quickly caught her, wrapping the wound as Dort's eyes darkened with both anger and worry.

Before she could answer, two more figures burst through the cemetery gates. Wednesday and Enid, soaked from the rain, came running straight for her.

Wednesday reached her first. Without hesitation, she wrapped her arms around Y/N in a fierce, almost crushing hug. "You idiotic, reckless imbecile," she scolded, voice low but shaking. "Do you have a death wish, or are you just this determined to shorten my lifespan instead?"

Enid stood beside them, her eyes wide with worry. "Oh my god, Y/N—you're bleeding! What happened? Who did this to you?!"

Y/N tried to explain, but Wednesday pulled back just enough to glare, her dark eyes burning with both anger and concern. "You're never going anywhere alone again," she hissed, her grip refusing to let Y/N slip away.

Y/N's face still carried the faint pink of Wednesday's unexpected hug, the warmth lingering against her skin like an ember she didn't want to let go of. But her mind was tangled, replaying the storm, the gravestone, and Celeste's words.

Principal Dort stepped closer, his voice stern but steady. "Y/N, for the last time, what were you doing here?"

She lifted her eyes, guilt and confusion mixing in her chest. "I... I wanted to visit Celeste. To pay my respects. To offer condolences."

For a long moment, Dort said nothing. Then, slowly, he shook his head. "If you're referring to her mother's funeral... it is not here. It's in another state entirely."

Y/N blinked, her brows furrowing. Her heart stuttered at the contradiction. Not here? But Celeste told her—clear as day—that she lived in Clovers. That this was her hometown.

Her lips parted, the truth almost tumbling out, but she stopped herself. Something in Dort's eyes—carefully guarded, heavy—warned her to hold her tongue.

Instead, Y/N lowered her gaze. "I must have been mistaken," she murmured, though inside, the unease churned stronger.

Because she wasn't mistaken. She knew what Celeste had told her. She knew what she had seen.

Or maybe Principal Dort knows something.

Back to Nevermore, the infirmary was dim, the steady ticking of the clock echoing louder than it should. Y/N sat on the cot, her arm wrapped carefully in fresh bandages, the sting of the cut still lingering.

Across from her, Wednesday stood, arms folded, her dark eyes never leaving Y/N. The silence between them was suffocating.

"You are a terrible liar," Wednesday finally said, her tone cutting but low. "Thing already told me everything."

Y/N shifted uncomfortably, guilt crawling up her spine. "Wednesday—"

Her sharp gaze narrowed further. "What were you doing in Clover's cemetery, Y/N?"