𝑾𝒂𝒍𝒍𝒇𝒍𝒐𝒘𝒆𝒓 ➸𝑨𝒍𝒍𝒊𝒔𝒐𝒏 𝑨𝒓𝒈𝒆𝒏𝒕 ꟾ𝟏ꟾ

Mountain Lion

[Majorly Edited]—6/6/21

I

"Just a friendly reminder: Parent/Teacher conferences are tonight. Students below a C average are required to attend. I won't name you because the shame and self-disgust should be more than enough punishment." Mr. Harris glances down at Stiles and me. "Has anyone seen Scott McCall?"

I nudge Stiles' arm, making him look up from his textbook, the entire page practically covered in yellow from his excessive highlighting. Before either of us can answer him, the door swings open. Jackson saunters in; his eyes have that far-away look. It's obvious he's still freaked out about seeing the dead body of that clerk from the video store.

I actually felt a little bad for him and Lydia; seeing someone lifeless like that can really mess with you. I still haven't gotten over Derek's sister and her milky irises staring right at me, seemingly begging for help. The nightmares only make it worse.

Everyone watches as he pulls up a stool and sits at the table across from us. My hand begins shaking, and I don't even notice it until Stiles hits my arm and motions toward the betraying limb with a sympathetic gaze. I can't help it. Every part of this reminds me of the first day of sophomore year—the first day back after losing my parents in June.

Most people know each other here, and my parents' accident was a pretty big deal. Before recently, untimely death wasn't something that happened casually in Beacon Hills. Local Fireman Dean Walker and trusted Therapist Emberly Walker pronounced dead on June 29th, 2010. Survived by their helpless, loser son.

Mr. Harris places a hand on his shoulder. "Jackson, if you need to leave early for any reason, you let me know."

I lean in front of Stiles, mouthing, "Have you seen Scott?"

He shrugs, holding the cap of the highlighter between his teeth. I turn back toward the board. I could have sworn I saw him at his locker this morning.

"Everyone," Mr. Harris faces the rest of the class. "Start reading chapter nine."

I, along with everyone else, begin erratically flipping the pages of the textbook. "Mr. Stilinski. Try putting the highlighter down between paragraphs. It's Chemistry, not a coloring book."

He looks straight up, spits the cap out, and catches it. After capping his highlighter, he leans over to the table in front of us. "Hey, Danny? Can I ask you a question?"

"No."

"Well, I'm going to anyway." Danny sighs harshly. "Um, did Lydia show up in your homeroom today?"

"No."

"Can I ask you another question?"

"Answer's still no."

"Does anyone know what happened to her and Jackson last night?"

His shoulders slump. "He wouldn't... he wouldn't tell me."

"But he's your best friend." Danny just shrugs.

"One more question."

"What?"

"Do you find me attractive?" There's a moment of silence before Stiles falls out of his chair, taking my book with him.

II

"Here, I'll try." I dig my phone from my pocket as Stiles lowers his from his ear.

I dial Scott's number and after a few rings, an annoyed voice answers. "What?"