Treachery || Stilinski

Five: open wound and tattoo

Emma's P.O.V:

I have to call at least ten times for Scott to actually answer and yell a "can't talk right now!" before hanging up again.

"He hung up on me." I pout.

Sheriff got here about ten minutes ago and he's having a hard time trying to understand what the hell is going on.

He even asks Mr Argent if he knows something.

My phone goes off and I'm ready to say some bad words at my best friend for hanging up on me until I notice the ID reads 'Derek'.

"I was just wondering when I'd get this call," I say and I know Derek's rolling his eyes.

"Do you ever shut up?"

"Do you ever have fun?"

There's a dead silence for ten seconds. Emma-1, Derek-0.

"Whatever," he says. "Can you and your hyperactive boyfriend get your ass over here?"

"You want us to go to your house?" I ask and Stiles shots me a confused look.

"Yes. Scott's here and I need you to pick him up."

"Okay..." I trail off. "Tell him to call Stiles, there's something kind of important going on at school."

"Okay, just get here."

As soon as I hang up, Stiles' nose is basically touching mine.

"That was Derek?" he whispers, well aware of Mr Argent's proximity.

"He says Scott's with him," I say in the lowest voice possible. "We need to go there now."

The familiar sound of Stiles' ringtone interrupts our situation and I take it as a chance to go to check on Lydia one last time.

"Hey, look, it's Scott!" Stiles sarcastically says, pointing at his phone's screen. "I'm going to kill you!" he yells once he answers the call.

I find my best friend standing in Allison's locker.

"Hey, are you girls alright?" I try to do my best smile.

"Yes, thank you, Emma," Allison says, returning the smile. "What a first day."

"I know, right?" I say. "Hopefully this won't happen again."

"I just want to go home and pretend this day didn't happen," Lydia says with her signature sarcasm, making me laugh.

I'm about to open my mouth to say something, but we're interrupted by Mr Argent.

"Ready to go home, girls?"

"Mr Argent," I greet him.

"Emma." He nods, acknowledging me. "Any idea of what's going on?"

"No," I sigh. "No clue."

"Do you need a ride home?"

"No, thank you. Stiles' driving today, I'll be fine."

"I assume you're going to find out why a bunch of crows attacked an English class," he says, no expression in his face.

"I'm actually trying to figure out why they were so scared, but nice try, Mr Argent."

And from the other side of the hall, a very hyperactive Stiles is trying to catch my attention.

"Emma, are you coming or what?" he yells with no worries in the world.

"Well, that's my cue. See you guys tomorrow!"