Slightly In On It (Slightly Awkward Sequel---Teen Wolf)

CHAPTER ELEVEN---Battlefield

Dad thought that it was well needed for me and Stiles both had counseling with Ms. Morrell at the school, but I didn't really want to go, but it looked like I didn't have a choice.

Matt was dead. Scott's mom wasn't talking to him because she knew he was a werewolf. Everything was not going right.

Well, maybe not everything.

Even while I was talking to Ms. Morrell, I was cleaning my track shoes that was for a big track meet that was in about two days. It worked out well, because Dad and I could go to Stiles' championship game tomorrow night, and then they could come to my meet the very next night.

"You know when you're drowning, you don't actually inhale until right before you black out," I said. It was a tip that I had learned from Stiles. "It's called voluntary apnea. It's like no matter how much you're freaking out, the instinct to not let any water in is so strong that you won't open your mouth until you feel like your head's exploding. But then when you finally do let it in, that's when it stops hurting. It's not scary anymore. It's--it's actually kind of peaceful."

"Are you saying you hope Matt felt some peace in his last moments?" Ms. Morrell asked me.

The guy had creeped me out, sure, and he had stalked me before he had got obsessed with Allison, but he had tried to kill me too, and if it hadn't been for Derek, he probably would have. "I don't feel sorry for him," I answered honestly.

"Can you feel sorry for the nine year old Matt who drowned?"

"Just because a bunch of dumbasses dragged him into a pool when he couldn't swim doesn't really give him the right to go off killing them one by one," I said. "And by the way, my dad told me that they found a bunch of pictures of Allison on Matt's computer. And not just of her though, me too, before he got over it. I mean, he photoshopped himself into these pictures. Stuff like them holding hands and kissing. You know, like he had built this whole fake relationship. So yeah, maybe drowning when he was nine years old was what sent him off the rails, but the dude was definitely riding the crazy train."

"One positive thing came out of this, though," Ms. Morrell said. "Right?"

"Yeah," I answered.  Dad had got his old job as sheriff back because of what happened at the station. "Yeah. But I still feel like there's something wrong between us. And not just my dad, but my brother Stiles too. I don't know. It's just like tension when we talk. Same thing with Scott."

"Have you talked to him since that night?"

"No, not really. Stiles hardly even has. I mean, he's got his own problems to deal with though. I don't think he's talked to Allison either. But that might be more her choice, you know. Her mom dying hit her pretty hard." I know that mind dying had hit me really hard. "But I guess it brought her and her dad closer. Jackson? Jackson hasn't really been himself lately. Actually, the funny thing is, as of right now, Lydia is the one who seems the most normal."

"And what about you, Stacie?" Ms. Morrell asked. "Feeling some anxiety about the meet in two days?"

"Why would you ask me that?" I asked, then looked down. I hadn't realized that I had still been cleaning my tennis shoes. "Ah. Uh, no. The team says that I'm the best, and that's why they're letting me do it."

"You said the team says," Morrell said. "Do you not think that you're as good as they say?"

I shrugged. "I don't know. Just--" I shook my head barely. "Lately, I haven't felt that I'm good at anything."

"What about your brother, Stiles?" she asked. "Is he feeling the same way about the championship game tomorrow night?"

"He never actually plays," I said. "But, hey, since one of his teammates is dead and another one's missing, who knows, right?"