transcendent ༜stiles stilinski༜ [1] (UNDER EDITING)

6| He's Calling

I walk into the lunchroom and slide in next to Scott.

"I think the book is making it more obvious," I say. I look over at Allison. "Besides, she's reading anyway."

I look over at Stiles and then look away as our eyes meet.

"So did you guys think of a plan?" I ask.

"Well, he thinks so. Does that mean you're not mad at us anymore?" Stiles asks.

He takes a loud bite from his apples.

"No. But this crap has infiltrated our lives so now we have to do something about it."

"Plus," Stiles interrupts. "I'm a better Yoda than Derek."

"Okay, yeah. You teach me."

"Yeah, I'll be your Yoda."

"Yeah, you guys be my Yoda," Scott says.

"Your Yoda, I will be." I snort while Scott doesn't. "I said it backwards."

"Yeah-- I know."

"All right, you know what? I definitely still hate you." Stiles crosses his arms over his chest. "Uh-huh. Oh yeah."

He grabs his things and the book from in front of Scott's face. He, then, grabs my arm and pulls me into the hallway with him. I stumble behind him.

"Hey!" I exclaim.

I wrench my arm out of his grasp slightly annoyed with his behavior. He looks at me surprised by my attitude, though he shouldn't be.

"What's going on with you? With us?"

"I had no idea there was an us going on."

"Aura. You jumped off the roof of my house angrily which was incredible. How did you do it?"

"A few years of gymnastics," I lie.

Stiles hauls me into Coach Finstock's office. He searches around and grabs a heart monitor strap. He opens the desk and grabs coach's phone. I pull the scotch tape off his desk and a sports bag. I text Scott to meet us out on the lacrosse field.

Scott meets us in the hall and we walk there together. I grab the strap and push it into his chest.

"Now, put that on," Stiles commands.

"Isn't this one of the heart monitors for the track team?"

"We borrowed it."

"Stole it."

"Stole it, misappropriated," Stiles shrugs. "The point is--"

"Coach uses it to monitor his heart while he jogs," I cut in.

"And you're going to wear it for the rest of the day."

Stiles hands me the coach's phone and Scott's eyes widen.

"Isn't that his phone?"

"That, we stole," I clarify.

"Why?"

"All right-" I interrupt Stiles.

"Blah, blah, blah. Both of you, put your hands behind your back."

They do as I say. I duck-tape their hands. I grab a lacrosse stick and push them back a couple of feet. I scoop a ball up in the stick.

"This shouldn't be too hard," I say.

"This isn't exactly how exactly how I wanted to spend my free period," Scott says.

"Aura, why am I here?" Stiles asks.