𝑾𝒂𝒍𝒍𝒇𝒍𝒐𝒘𝒆𝒓 ➸𝑨𝒍𝒍𝒊𝒔𝒐𝒏 𝑨𝒓𝒈𝒆𝒏𝒕 ꟾ𝟏ꟾ

Panic

[Majorly edited-1/4/21]

I

As I shut my locker, curls of chocolate locks catch my attention. Allison sits on the ground with her back against the lockers, books and papers scattered all around her as she continues to read the same book from lunch. Her immense interest in this was really starting to worry me. I glance around, watching as the last few students in the hallways enter their classrooms, and straighten my shirt before approaching.

"Hey, Allison."

She jumps slightly at my presence, too absorbed in her book to notice anything else. "Wes," She breathes out with an embarrassed smile. "You scared me."

I chuckle before sitting down next to her, muttering an apology before motioning toward the thick book in her hands. "Wow, you're really into this aren't you?"

"Aren't you supposed to be in Chemistry right now?"

"Yeah, and so are you." I counter. "Listen, we can talk about something else if you want."

"No, no it's fine. I just—promise not to laugh at me?"

"Promise."

"I just feel this weird connection to it. And more than just it having to do with my family. I—I don't know how to explain it." She looks up at me before lowering the book. "You promised not to laugh."

I relax my facial features and raise my uninjured hand in surrender. "Hey, who said I was laughing?" I motion to the book. "Uh, read me something."

Her eyebrow twitches slightly before she lifts her knees and begins flipping through the book. I frown as I watch the passion in her features become more prominent with each turned page. It's as if she's expecting it to serve her destiny on a silver platter.

One day, she's going to figure out everything. Whether her dad is waiting for the proper moment to initiate her into his werewolf hunting cult or she just finds out by chance, she's going to know. I've only known her for a short time, but I've never met anyone so determined for answers the way she is, maybe besides Stiles.

She clears her throat, then begins. "A quadruped wolf-like monster prowling the Auvergne and South Dordogne areas of France during the years 1764 to 1767. La Bête killed over a hundred people, becoming—"

"What're you reading?" A sickly pale Jackson interrupts her, both of us tensing at his voice.

"Oh, hey. Uh..." She glances between us. "Just stuff for a history project."

He nods, glancing around the hallway with deep-set eyes and gaunt cheeks before sliding down the lockers and crossing his legs at the ankles.

There's an awkward second where he just stares at her before she speaks up, "So, is everyone skipping Chem today?"

"I guess so." Jackson flashes his perfectly white teeth but with his current state, it looks a little strange.

"Uh, are you alright? You look a little pale." I expect him to lash out at me and make a snarky remark, but he just nods.

"Yeah, yeah I'm fine, actually I wanted to talk to you. To both of you. I realize that I've been a jerk to you, Allison. And especially to Wesley and Scott and I wanted to say that I'm sorry." I have to be dreaming. I didn't think Jackass even knew what that word even meant let alone how to form it into a sentence. He must really be on his death bed.

"Is this some kind of joke?"

"I'm serious." He switches his glance from me to her. "Really, I mean it."