Simplicity

Shades

Bailey pulls her English binder from her already over-crowded locker, desperately trying to make sure everything else stayed in.

Suddenly, Stiles slid into the locker next to hers, slamming into the door. Startled, Bailey drops her books, watching as her books, backpack and gym bag poured out onto the floor.

“Jesus, Stiles! Do you need something?” she asks, bending down to pick up the mess on the floor. Stiles bent down with her, grabbing a notebook from the pile.

“What’s this?” he asks. On the cover, “Observational Notes” was written in big block letters. She looks up, taking it from his grip.

“I didn’t know that was an elective here…”

“That’s because it’s not. Again, do you need something, Stiles?” she asks again, slightly more annoyed than she was 0.2 seconds ago.

“Yeah, I was just going to ask you how you’ve been? You left so hastily last year that I didn’t really get a chance to ask you what happened,” he says, standing up. Handing her back her gym bag, Stiles shoves his hands deep in his pockets, slightly hunching over.

“Uh, well my aunt didn’t really like the way the education system was working so she taught me all my freshmen classes. When we were done with that, she moved on to sophomore lessons,” pushing her hair back, she clicks the lock shut.

“Your aunt? Wait, the teacher one, right? So does that mean you’re technically a junior now or..?”

“That’s the one. And no, I’m not a junior, I’m just taking a few junior classes.”

“Like what?” Stiles asked, suddenly curious for a whole different reason.

“Like English, chemistry, biology, and French. Why are you so interested in my life all of a sudden, Stilinski? We haven’t been friends since, well since we were kids,” she questions.

 “No reason. Uh, maybe I could help you find your classes,”

“My brother used to go here, he showed me where all his classes were. Plus, remember? I used to go here, I know my way around,” walking away, she tucks the notebook deep in the binder as if protecting it.

Scott comes out from behind the corner just as the warning bell rings.

“Well, did you find out if she’s a witch?” he asks.

“Nope, not yet. But I did get something.”

“What is it?”

“You have English with her right now.”

Walking into English class, Scott scans the room for an empty seat. Naturally, the only one available was behind the alleged witch.  “Maybe I could ask her a few things,” he thought to himself, taking the seat.

          “Good morning, class. I hope you all enjoyed the Christmas break. Mrs. Blake was supposed to teach this class but the schedule has been modified. I am Ms. Gwen and I thought we could start off the way with what we did over the break. How about you, Mr. McCall?”

Scott takes his eyes off Bailey who was writing in the secretive notebook Stiles mentioned, looking up at the teacher.

          “I’m sorry, what?” he asks.

She smiles, leaning against her desk. “I asked you what you did over the break,”

          He shifts uncomfortably, not knowing exactly what to say.

“Uh, stayed home and played video games?” he replies, almost as if he was asking a question rather than answering one.

          “As interesting as that is, let’s move on, shall we? How about you, Ms… Grey.”