Chapter 9

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I DO NOT OWN TEEN WOLF. Only Melanie and her plot lines.

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LEGIT QUESTION: are you guys enjoying/wanting more chapters from this story? im not sure if i should continue on or not. feedback please!!

Stiles, Scott and I sat restlessly within the crammed principles office. Gerard before us, a terrifying smirk drawn about his aged features.

Sighing, he hesitantly leaned forward. Folding his slender fingertips together tightly, "Okay, let's get down to business. Shall we?"

Swallowing noticeably, I turned to face Stiles. In whom graciously handed me a small grin in return. Nodding his head as if it resembled some form of encouragement.

"Scott McCall." Blurted the old man, burning two lasers into the werewolf's forehead, "Academically, not the most accomplished student. But, it seems you've become quite the star athlete."

Keeping the response short and sweet, Scott nodded. Hastily averting his gaze from the creepy grandfather.

Not waisting another moment, the horrid male turned towards me. His eyes narrowed eagerly all while he studied me with dilated pupils.

"Melanie Mitchell," He almost grimaced. "Decent grades, but no extracurricular activities. Why is that?"

I shrugged, "My mom and I stay busy."

He hummed in dissatisfaction. Obviously not thrilled with my vague answer. Nevertheless, he didn't press it any further. Gerard's stare now endlessly boring into my boyfriend.

"Stiles Stilinski," he announced, "Perfect grades, but much like Melanie, no extracurricular activities. You should try lacrosse."

Stiles' mouth hung agape. Obviously appalled that Gerard believed he was in fact not apart of the team. But, the boy did not have time to explain himself. For, Gerard's focus then floated elsewhere. Giving me time to laugh lightly about the accusation.

"McCall. . ." Pondered the elder, "You're the Scott that was dating my granddaughter."

Scott, now looking as if he were about to explode, coughed unsettlingly. His hands firmly gripping the edges of the chair he sat upon, all while pointless words began to flow from his pale lips.

"We—We were dating. But, not anymore," he sputtered, "Not dating. Not seeing any of each other. Not—not doing anything with each other. . . Oh God."

"Relax Scott." Gerard laughed loudly, me resultantly cringing, "You look like you're about to crack a cyanide pill with you're teeth."

"Just a hard break up." Scott retorted.

"Aw, that's too bad." The old man sympathetically stated, furrowing his bushy eyebrows, "You seem like a nice kid to me." Shaking his head, he then began to change the subject, "Now, listen guys. I am the principle, but I don't want you to think of me as the enemy here."

"Is that so?" Stiles sarcastically scoffed, my eyes rolling immensely as he did so.

"However, this being my first day, I'm going to have to support my teachers," he paused, "So, at least two of you will have to stay behind."

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