Plot Twist

Chapter 10

Chapter 10

"I'll get you, my pretty, and your little dog, too!"

-Wicked Witch of the West

The rest of the night was a blur - my thoughts were plagued with the reality that I'd managed to piss off a hormonal, impulsive werewolf twice in the span of forty-eight hours.

Hello, I actually fucking stabbed him.

Stabbed.

Now, I'd always been protective of my loved ones.

Whether it was the rude kid on the playground shoving mud into my best friend's face, or the gossiping soccer moms who'd talk shit about my mom the minute she left the room - I was not afraid to stand up for those in my life.

Loyalty was extremely important to me, and one of the reasons why I didn't have very many friends.

Well, that and I'd much rather ogle Harry Styles' pictures than socialize.

But, seriously, back to the loyalty thing.

I was picky when it came to friends, and there was nothing more that I hated other than a friend who'd hang with you during the good times and then split when shit got real.

That being said, with all the recent events playing in my mind, I couldn't help but feel pretty shocked when I realized I now considered Skylar - and Jackson as well - as part of the very few I gave my unwavering loyalty to.

I'd known them for two days and I'd already stabbed someone for Skylar!

I groaned, rolling over on my side to stare at the clock.

It was time to get up for school.

My third day here.

I should start making tally-marks on the walls like they do in all those cool prison movies.

I got up, did my morning routine of taking a shower and picking out my clothes for the day - a maroon tank top, black skinny jeans, an army green cargo jacket, a golden yellow scarf and some rocking high-heeled tan ankle boots.

Hellooo, Fall.

After this, I only had one more task to complete before going to school.

Waking up fake-twin.

I honestly didn't know what to expect when waking up sleeping beauty. So much had happened with the plot so quickly - rejection, meeting Dylan O'Brien, having dinner with rejected mate and then stabbing rejected mate in the balls.

I need to see a therapist.

Hell, all of fake family probably needs to see a therapist!

Does fictional shitty supernatural world even have therapists? If they do, they're probably the really cliche ones you see on TV where they say, 'how does that make you feel?' I mean, seriously? You expect me to pay someone two hundred dollars an hour to ask me how I feel? I'm pretty sure I could get my cat to do that.

I took a deep breath before leaving my bedroom to wake up fake-twin.

Opening her bedroom door, I was quite surprised to see Skylar was already awake, propped up on her bed texting with a small smile on her face.

Texting, I tell you.

And smiling.

This could only mean one thing.