fade #2 (Stiles Stilinski)

Chapter 23

I DO NOT OWN TEEN WOLF. Only Melanie and her plot lines.
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"Jackson retracted his statement." Groaned Stiles, the both of us rushing down the hallway towards my excruciatingly boring English class.

I rose an eye brow skeptically, "What? What does that even mean?"

"Jackson said that he technically didn't see Isaac and his father arguing the night he was murdered. So my dad had no choice but to let him go and claim him innocent."

My eyes were wide as I internally groaned. "They're not going to take any one else's statement into consideration?"

Stiles shook his head as the both of us walked into Economics class, plopping down in two bland desks. "Jackson is the only witness he has."

I sighed, turning my head to the right and jumping at the sight of the one and only Isaac smirking madly next to me. He had come back to school.

Stiles, totally oblivious to the werewolf next to me, continued to speak, "We have to tell Scott that Isaac is released."

My eyes were wide as Isaac let out a cold, dark chuckle. Turning his attention back to the front of the classroom.

"I wouldn't be too surprised if Scott already knows." I slowly shifted my gaze back to Stiles, my mouth slightly agape.

"Wha-" he froze in mid sentence, his eyes practically bulging out of the sockets as caught sight of a chuckling Isaac.

"You two look excited to see me."

•~•~•

I was currently in Coach's class. Along with Scott, Stiles, and an extremely irritable Jackson. Who I was somewhat furious with, him changing his statement and all with the police.

"Okay, testicle left and right." Jackson boomed behind Scott's seat, his gaze then turning to me. Basically clueless as to what to say, mainly because, well as far as I know, I do not have male body parts. "And...you."

Stiles and I rolled our eyes in sync, my fury with the douche growing by the second.

He continued on with the talking, and I was thinking of taking my pen, and stabbing my self profusely in the face, "What the heck is a Kanima?"

I froze, Scott's mouth dropping open and Stiles' eyes the size of saucers. Jackson smirked, knowing that he had won whatever sort of conversation we just had.

"Alright, listen up!" Coach Finstock broke us out of our stunned trance, the sound of a book connecting with a desk, "Quick warning before the review. Some of you, like McCall, may want to start your own study group. Because this midterm is so profoundly difficult, I'm not even sure if I could pass it."

I groaned, placing my head in my hands. How on earth was I suppose to pass a test that my own teacher couldn't even complete. I was screwed to say the least.

"Okay, so let's take a volunteer to the board. Who's it gonna be?" Coach clapped his hands together eagerly, someone jumping up from their desk.

Scott, my boyfriend, and I took this as an opportunity to interrogate Jackson. Mainly along the lines of how the heck he knew about a Kanima. For we basically just found out ourselves.

"How do you know." I retorted, my face practically fuming.

Jackson smirked, "know what?"

I was about to totally rip this guy's head off, which I frankly could do thanks to the lucky pin in my pocket, and with my teeth. But, Stiles clamped his hand over mine.

I took a few deep breaths, not really wanting to demolish Jackson right now, "How do you know, what a Kanima is?"

"They paralyzed me last night." He replied simply.

Scott leaned forward a bit in his seat, "Paralyzed? Who?"

"Derek. He said he was testing me. And yes, paralyzed. I couldn't move from the neck down, do you have any idea what that feels like?"

Stiles scoffed, "I'm pretty familiar with the sensation."

"He said if it was me, I wouldn't react." Jackson clearly ignored Stiles' remark.

"Well, that is true I guess." I shrugged, "So if it isn't you, who is it."

Jackson sighed, obviously somewhat bored with the conversation. "I don't know. I think heard the graveyard kid talking about testing Lydia."

"Lydia? Why would they test Lydia?"

Jackson groaned, tossing his arms up in the air momentarily, "I just heard something about Lydia and chemistry."

"Jackson!" Coach's voice echoed throughout the classroom, "is there anything that you'd like to share with the class?"

"Ugh...just my um– undying admiration for my Coach." Jackson laughed nervously, scratching the back of his neck.

"Aw, that's really sweet," Coach chortled, "Now shut up! Shut it!"

Scott then whipped his head around to face us, his eyes narrowed and lips in a thin line. "How do we know it's not her?"

"I just–I can feel it. She's changing into something."

"And that something could be a giant man eating lizard." Stiles used spastic hand motions, his voice quiet so Coach wouldn't cause some sort of scene.

I looked over at him and rolled my eyes. "Look. I know it isn't her, okay? If you would trust me on one thing, trust me on this,"

Scott groaned, "Look, I'm not saying I don't believe you. But, you're not putting up a very good argument."

"I know–I know. Just, I promise you it's not her."

I strangled cry broke us from our conversation. Lydia at the board, a white piece of chalk in her hands and horror on her face. In front of her, numerous words and letters scattered about the black chalk-board.

"Lydia, you okay?" Coach asked, his voice full on uncertainty. "Anyone else want to try? And this time in English?"

"What is that?" Scott asked, "Greek?"

"No, I think it is in English." Stiles murmured, making me take a second look at the board.

He snapped a picture of the jumbled up letters, reflecting the photo and making it so actual words lay on the screen.

Someone help me
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