Slightly Amazing (Slightly series---Teen Wolf)

CHAPTER NINE---The Girl Who Knew Too Much

Lydia found a body again. She'd called us, and Allison was driving up in her car, Stiles and I were in the Jeep, and Scott was on his bike, stopping next to us as he pulled off his helmet. "Where is she?"

"Over here," Allison said.

"Lydia?" Stiles asked.

She and Allison came closer as Lydia said, "Same thing as the pool. I got into the car heading somewhere totally different, and ended up here. And you told me to call you if there's a dead body."

"You found a dead body?"

"Not yet."

"'Not yet'?" I repeated. "What do you mean, 'not yet'? Lydia, you're supposed to call us after you find the dead body."

"Oh, no, I'm not doing that again," Lydia said. "You find the dead body from now on."

"How are we supposed to find the dead body?" Stiles asked, Scott walking away from us.

"You're always the one finding the dead body," I agreed.

"Guys," Scott said, getting our attentions. "I found the dead body."

We followed his gaze to the sheriff's deputy laying dead on top of the Beacon Hills High School sign.

I recognized her. Her name was Tara.

Hiding behind a pole, Stiles and I strained to hear Dad talking to deputies, but it wasn't of much use.

Then Dad saw us, and I grabbed Stiles' arm and started to run away as Stiles held up his bag, trying to hid us as Dad told the cops, "Excuse me. Hey!" We still didn't stop. "Hey, hey, hey. Back it up." We sighed, stopping as Dad stepped next to us. "I know what you're thinking. I know you've got all these ideas about patterns and people dying in threes--"

"Dad, murdered, okay?" Stiles asked.

"Sacrificed, actually," I corrected.

"I've got half the state, including the FBI, coming in on this," Dad told us. "They're not getting away with killing one of our own."

"Dad, they killed Tara," I said. "You know, how many times did she help us with our math homework when we had to wait at the station for you?"

"Just, uh, get to class, okay?" he asked us.

We sighed, but nodded.

We had to get to English.

I sat behind Stiles, who sat next to Scott, as Ms. Blake taught English. "Idioms, analogies, metaphors and similes, all tools the writer uses to tell their story." She stopped in between me and Lydia, looking down at her drawing, which was her tree that she always freaking drew. "Lydia, I wasn't aware you had so many hidden talents."

Lydia looked up. "You and every guy I've ever dated."

I scoffed as Ms. Blake said, "Oh, um, well, that was an idiom, by the way." She started to move forward. "Idioms are something of a secret to the people who know the language or the culture. They're phrases that only make sense if you know key words. Saying 'jump the gun' is meaningful only if you know about--"

"The starting gun in a race," I finsihed, looking up. "Like track."

"That's right, Stacie. You run?"

I nodded, popping the 'p' as I said, "Yep."

"Or a phrase like 'seeing the whole board'."

"Like chess," Stiles said.