Becoming The Shadows (Shadow Series #4)

16 - Lacrosse Stick

School was something that I wasn't really looking forward to going back to. I completely understand that I need to focus on a normal, teenage life and get an education, but lately, my mind is solely focused on keeping everyone I love safe. That means I get to balance the life of a teenager in high school while being a protector in the supernatural world. Thankfully, I've always been pretty well at multi-tasking and this should be somewhat of a breeze. 

Coach has been droning on and on about economics that I've already learned before and I took this as my opportunity to think about everything going on. Currently, all of my friends are safe. There were assassins running around trying to kill them for the Benefactor, but at the current time, they were safe. 

My dad and I have been bonding over the past two days about what's happened since I "died". He told me about France and I asked him about Isaac. My heart broke all over again when he said that Isaac never got over my death. He followed my dad to France, but he couldn't bring himself to return when my dad announced he would be headed back to Beacon Hills.  I know I broke his heart when I choose Derek. 

I wonder how Isaac would react if he knew the truth about me. Would he know that it's really me?

My chin falls into the palm of my hand as I slyly move my phone behind Scott who sits in front of me. I'd much rather be trying to catch assassins than learning about economics. I tap on the latest message from Parrish, reading that he won't be home until late tonight. I text him back quickly and look over to the left to see several bloody photographs on Stiles' desk.

I furrow my eyebrows at the photographs, realizing that he must have jacked them from his dad. They resemble the ones that Parrish had the other day. Stiles is heavily focused on examining the crime scene photos with no intention to focus on what Coach is saying. His entire desk is covered in the classified photos. 

"Economic disparity exists in all forms. Well, take sports, for example." Coach teaches to the whole class, nearly putting several of the students to sleep. I have not missed these classes with him at all. He moves around the desks with a lacrosse stick in hand."Some teams have better training facilities. Some have better equipment, unlike Beacon Hills that can barely afford the duct tape to keep our equipment together." He starts to ramble off about hating this school's funding. 

Coach taps the top of my desk with the handle of the stick. I give him an odd look before picking up my pencil and pretending to take down notes. He turns to the other desks, spotting Stiles with the photos in hand. Stiles is too immersed in the photos to realize that he's about to get into trouble for not paying attention.

Coach hits the top of Stiles' desk with the handle a little harder than he did with me. The stick and noise startle Stiles and he freaks out. The photos drop to his desk when he tries to straighten up and make it seem like he was paying attention. 

Coach bends over, picks up one of the photos, and drops his voice for only Stiles to hear. "You know, Stilinski, if I could grade you on how profoundly you disturb me, you'd be an A plus student." 

Stiles nods his head, "Thanks, Coach."

"Put those pictures away." Coach stands back up and taps the desk a couple of times with the handle. He shouts Stiles' last name when he grabs the end of the lacrosse stick in both of his hands before Coach could turn away. 

Stiles pulls the cap off of the end of the stick and flips through the photos with one hand still around the handle. He lands on a close up photo of a wound that is shaped like the end of the lacrosse stick. Oh, my god. Stiles just found out who the possible assassin could be. Scott and I share a look. 

"What the hell is wrong with you?" Coach demands, trying to yank the lacrosse stick out of Stiles' hand. With one final tug, he frees the stick from Stiles with a disturbed and annoyed look on his face. "Don't answer that."