35: The Argents [1]

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"I didn't mean to startle you, sorry." Allison chuckled awkwardly, tucking her flowing hair behind her ears.

"Oh, you didn't—" I began, playing it off with a smile. "You didn't startle me, just gave me a teeny tiny heart attack, but I'm fine."

"Okay." Allison murmured, curling her lips and nodding, trailing off. "Was that Derek? The guy from Lydia's party?"

"Huh? Who? Him?" I asked, awkwardly pointing at the entrance. "Yeah, that was Derek."

"What's he doing here?" She asked.

"Um... ah." I mumbled, struggling to come up with something before speaking. "I may or may not have spray painted his car Barbie pink, and he was here to dispute it."

"Oh." Allison blinked, her face shifting to one of concern. "Are you alright?"

"Yeah, I'm fine." I shrugged. "He's just all bark and no bite."

A dog analogy, gotta remember that one.

"So, what's going on?" I asked, shifting the topic as I leaned against the locker, hoping it was a good posture to manage my awkward replies.

"I want to talk to you about something. Are you free right now?" She asked.

"For you, absolutely." I smirked, and she chuckled, covering her face as her cheeks turned slightly pink. "What's up?"

"Well, Mr. White—" The Head of the chemistry department and our secondary teacher. "Told me I need to improve my grades. I'm passing, but he believes I can do better, and I want your help."

"So...?" I trailed off, wondering if she meant what I thought she meant. "You want me to tutor you?"

"Pretty much, yeah." She shrugged with a smile.

"Hmm..." I went silent as I thought about it. The other half of my mind was worrying about Derek bleeding out on the beautiful Italian seats of my Jeep.

"Sure." I agreed immediately.

"Sure?" She questioned, arching her brows.

"Yeah." I nodded, reaffirming. "Just tell me when you're open, and we can start."

"Actually..." She hesitated, biting her bottom lip, feeling unjust to say something but inadvertently saying it, "Can we start today? I have a test on Monday."

"Today?" I repeated.

"Oh, no problem, we can arrange some other time—" She began to panic, but I immediately stopped her.

"Absolutely, no problem." I accepted because this was a golden opportunity to get into her home and hopefully save Derek. "We can meet right after school. Is your place fine?"

"My place?" She said a little hesitantly but agreed. "Sure."

"Great." I cheered as I began walking away from her. "Then see you after school."

"Okay, bye." She waved.

I yelled my goodbye and rushed towards the canteen. Scott was still sitting stiffly in his place, cracking his knuckles nervously, his eyes wavering as he saw me rush towards him.

"What happened? Why is he here?" He asked as he stood up. I immediately pulled him out of the canteen and briefed him on the situation.

"He was shot?!" Scott yelped in shock.

"And bleeding in my seats, yes." I pushed my keys into his hands and sternly ordered him. "Now, get to the Jeep and get him somewhere safe."

"Like where? His house?" Scott scrambled.

"No." I immediately shook my head. "We literally announced where he lives to the entire town; the Hunters could be waiting there to ambush him when he's weak."

"Fucking hell." Scott cursed, gripping his hair, but suddenly his eyes shone with a glint of an idea. "The vet clinic."

"What?" I asked.

"The clinic is closed for the weekend, and Mr. Deaton is out of town."

"That's great." I exclaimed. "Take him there, and I'll follow you up."

"Why aren't you coming with me?" He asked, narrowing his eyes.

"Because whoever shot him is with the Hunters, and if they are with the Hunters, it means—" I briefed, and Scott got to the point before I finished.

"—is with the Argents."

"Yep." I nodded. "I need to find the bullet, and coincidentally, Allison asked me to tutor her."

"She did?" Scott questioned, unsurely.

"Yeah, I'm meeting her after school today."

"Okay." Scott slowly nodded. "You get the bullet, then."

"I'll try." I shrugged and nudged him. "You get him out of here, ASAP."

"On it." Scott yelled as he rushed out of the crowd.

I spent the later classes wondering what was happening with Derek, but when Scott's message came that he had reached the clinic and Derek was still breathing, I felt a bit relieved.

After classes ended, I met up with Allison outside the school, and we got into her car.

"You know, it feels like a long time since we went on that drive to the beach." She commented.

"Yeah, and you mostly hang out with Lydia, so we rarely meet up." I replied, mumbling the doubt I had in my mind. "Speaking of which, why didn't you ask Lydia to help you with your studies? I mean, she's aces in every subject too."

"Trust me, I would have considered it if only she stopped talking about Victoria's Secret and Fashion Week every time we are together." We both chuckled as she drove out of the school premises.

We talked, and the conversation trailed down to the happenings at the school. I was mostly catching up with the gossip, most of it surrounding the disappearance of one Jessica Stanley.

Some seemed to think that she jumped states after having a fight with her mother; a few said she ran away with a biker boyfriend of hers, while very few suggested that her mother had killed her. Nothing concrete, and if I had learned something as a pupil of Beacon Hills High, it's never trust anything the masses say.

I really need to look into the case, once Derek and the Alpha stuff is out of my hair, but I'm starting to wonder whether it is ever going to happen.

Allison's house was just a short 10-minute drive from the school, and soon we reached it. She parked the car in the driveway, and we got out. She opened the door and strutted in casually, but I stood at the entrance as I suddenly felt like something was stopping me from coming in, some sort of force field that wouldn't acknowledge my entry.

She turned around and narrowed her eyes as she saw I was standing at the door.

"Don't worry, nobody's gonna be home for a few hours. Come in." She said, and the moment the words left her mouth, I felt the field disappear like it was never there.

I stepped in, she closed the door, and led me upstairs to her room, which was at the far-right end of the house.

Just as she opened the door, as I dropped my bag, I couldn't help but mouth the words I thought out loud.

"Woah."

The room was twice as big as mine, and it was filled with stuff; the walls were covered with pictures, drawings, and framed quotes. Origami cranes and planes were tied down by colorful threads from the ceiling.

"You have one heck of a room." I commented, and she grumbled as she sat on her bed, covering her face in embarrassment.

"I totally forgot these existed." She mumbled.

"Why?" I wondered. "These are great."

"They are the inspirations I had when I started my hobbies." She replied.

"Where are yours?" I asked. She sighed and pointed at a cardboard box beside the bed.

I picked up the box, sat down on the bed, and my eyes widened as I saw a photo.

"Who's this?" I asked, pointing at the woman standing beside a man.

"That's my dad's sister, Kate." She replied, chiming beside me. "Except she's more like my sister. She got here last night."

"Uh, last night?"

"Yeah, she had some car trouble." She briefed. "I guess."

I nodded as I remembered; that was her, she was the one who shot Derek, and the man beside her was Allison's father, the same one who picked her up yesterday.

"She looks familiar." I muttered.

"Hmm, she actually used to live in Beacon Hills. Maybe you saw her once."

"Maybe." I mumbled, dropping the photo back into the box and picking up the pictures. "Wow, did you take these?"

"Yes, back when I thought I was a photographer." She shyly said, biting her lower lip.

"They are good." I complimented them because I felt they really were.

"No, they are not." She took them from my hands and pointed out the mistakes. "I stopped when I realized I was terrible at it. Framing's off, bad lighting, believe me, not good."

I picked up the stencils of drawings, a few pages of shadings of fruits and trees.

"That was when I thought I was into painting. Uh, terrible, too." She immediately snatched them from my hands too.

I shrugged, and my eyes landed on something that piqued my interest. A pink file named Poetry.

"That's when I tried Poetry." She sighed, taking a quick peek at the file. "Terrible doesn't even come close to describing that."

"What are you good at?" I asked, and after a moment of thought, she replied.

"I will show you if you promise me not to laugh."

"I would never." I politely promised.

She brought me down to the garage and walked into the dark space, but not before flipping a light switch, illuminating the entire area.

"I was nationally ranked as a kid." She proudly announced. "And my dad really wanted me to go on, but I don't know, I didn't like it."

I gave a look around the garage hoping to find something related to the bullet, but tough luck.

"Are you ready?" She asked as she picked something from a black cover.

"Sure." She sighed and picked up a compound bow.

"What in the hell is that?" I smiled as I ducked away from its range.

"It's a compound bow." She replied with a chuckle. "And I'm pretty sure it requires an arrow to be harmful."

"So that's what you are good at." I nodded, should have guessed with the whole hunter ordeal, guess it's in her blood. "Archery."

"You promised you wouldn't laugh." She reminded.

"Trust me, I'm not laughing." I let out a long breath, and my eyes widened as they landed on something that I was least expecting.

A whole bunch of guns were arranged behind an iron cell with the name, Argent Arms International written over them.

From pistols to assault rifles, all of them had an Argent Arm's symbol etched over it, and I was moving towards it unconsciously.

"So I guess I should explain." She reasoned, but I wasn't listening because I was too busy fawning over the cool machinery. "We are not some sort of separatist, gun nut family."

"Sure." I sarcastically nodded.

"My dad sells firearms to law enforcement."

"That's good." I mumbled as my eyes trailed over the multiple stacks of bullets arranged on the shelf. "Are you planning on joining the family business?"

"I don't know; you tell me. Would I look cool with a gun?" She asked, and I thought about it for a moment.

"You would definitely look hot." I replied casually.

"Oh." She blinked, and I blinked as I heard what I said, and an awkward silence landed in the garage.

After a moment, just as I decided it was about time to break it, the door opened, and Allison gasped. She gripped my hand and crouched beside the car, pulling me down.

"Hey, Chris! Get your ass out of the '50s and come help with the groceries." I heard a woman yell, who I assumed is Kate because of the clear voice I remember from last night.

"Be right there." I heard Allison's father, closer than I expected him to be.

"Why are we hiding?" I asked, whispering to Allison.

But before she could answer, her father stepped in front of us and gave her a disappointed look.

"You two mind helping?"