Lena Whittemore

Monday-Tuesday

After Stiles found me at Al's house in his shirt, he hasn't really talked to me. Well, technically he's talked to me. I called him yesterday and he answered with a 'hey Lena'. I asked if he was angry with me and he said no but then he said he was busy and hung up before we could have a proper conversation on the matter.

I walk to my locker and get out my books for Math and make my way to class. When I get there, only half the class is there. I take my seat and wait for class to begin.

Al walks in the class and goes to the teacher's desk. It's a little weird having your Math teacher claim to be in love with you. He sends me a warm smile and walks over to my desk.

"How's your day been so far," he asks.

"Okay, not the best," I say, referring to Stiles avoiding me.

I tried talking to him this morning, but he had others things to do apparently.

"Well, can you tell me about it over dinner tonight," he asks, hope in his voice.

"I'm busy actually, maybe another time," I say.

"Okay, fine," he sighs. "Hey, are you and Stiles still...a thing," he asks.

"I don't know anymore," I say sadly.

"Don't be sad, you're meant to be with me anyway, he doesn't deserve you," he says.

The late bell rings and he starts to teach the class. While walking around, he pays closer attention to me than usual. I'm glad no one has noticed.

When lunch hits, I get my tray and go to sit with Stiles, Isaac, and Scott.

"So, what's new," I ask.

"Nothing much," Scott says.

"So Stiles, I was thinking...maybe we could see a movie tonight at my house," I suggest.

"I'm actually really busy tonight," he says for the hundredth time.

I think I get the picture now. "Right, okay," I say, putting on a smile anyway.

I nibble the piece of bread from my hamburger for a moment, trying to get past the awkward silence. But I get fed up with it and stand up, my tray in my hands.

"I'll talk to you guys later," I say and leave to sit with Jackson.

"Hey little sister," he says as I sit next to him.

"Hey Jack," I say.

"What's on your mind," he asks.

"Nothing," I lie.

Stiles is on my mind.

"Okay, I respect your privacy," he says and holds his hands up in surrender.

I keep nibbling my bread, ignoring the pointless conversations, only concentrating on my terrible situation. I need help, lots of it. Stiles is the one that helps me get through this stuff, but now he isn't there for me anymore. Who else do I have to rely on that I really-really trust?

I trust Scott and Isaac, but I don't trust them enough to not tell Stiles anything. I trust Jackson, but he's just judge me and probably forbid me to ever leave the house again. I could talk to Al, but it's sort of about him. I won't even think about talking to Derek.

I have no one to share this with, I can only keep it in and try to deal with it.

After school, I go to practice, not talking to a soul.

We stretch, run our usual two miles, and practice for our upcoming game tomorrow.

"Alright, hit the showers," Al says; or coach, I'm not exactly sure what to call him. I go into the locker rooms and shower, then put on my dark jean shorts, black sweater, and converse. I look at myself in the mirror and sigh.