Chapter 8

"So you killed her?" Stiles asked as they entered the school.

"I don't know," Scott answered, "I've just woken up."

The puppy remembered what had happened the night before. More or less. But he remembered as if it had been a dream and, of course, that he had attacked Allison. As if he couldn't become more predictable...

Anyway, Scarlett feared that he would have remembered her, but she could not go away now; it would have been too strange.

"I was sweating like crazy; I couldn't breathe. I never had a dream where I woke up like that before," Scott said, turning to them.

"Really?" Stiles asked from next to Scarlett. "I have. It usually ends a little differently." A smirk appeared on her lips as she looked at him. Stiles spun his head towards her with wide eyes.

"I... I mean..." she could feel how flustered he was. That was so strange. She could not only see it, she felt it. And she had to fight her fangs to come out.

"It's alright," she said, smirking up at him. "We all have wet dreams."

"Oh my god..." but she ignored him, wanting to know more about the puppy and what he remembered. So she could come up with a quick response if needed.

"Yeah, but A, I never had a dream that felt so real," Scott said, glaring at his friend, "And B, never give me that many details of you in bed."

Stiles nodded his head, looking at Scarlett for a brief moment, "Noted," then he took a deep breath, "Let me take a guess here though-"

"No, I know," Scott interrupted him, "You think it has something to do with me going out with Allison tomorrow like I'm gonna lose control and rip her throat out."

Scarlett did her best not to roll her eyes. The puppy really had only one thought in his head. But that was not exactly a bad thing. If it made him remember everything as if it were a dream, the better. Well, no, maybe not, since the body of the Driever was still in the parking lot.

"No, of course not," Stiles was saying, but when Scott turned to him with a glare, he spoke again, "Yeah, that's probably it."

Scarlett shook her head, "In the dream, there was blood?"

Scott looked at her before sadly nodding his head.

"Alright," she said, "And nothing of yours was covered in blood? Or have her scent?"

Scott seemed to think about it. She was sure there was no trace of blood on him since he did absolutely nothing if not put himself in between. But she needed to look nice and understanding, so when he told her that he did not see blood or remember her scent, Scarlett smiled.

"I think you're probably fine, then," Scarlett said, "It must have been just a dream."

"Scarlett is right," Stiles said, looking at his friend. "Come on, it's gonna be fine, all right?" but Scott didn't answer, "Personally, I think you're handling this pretty freakin' amazingly. You know, it's not like there's a lycanthropy for beginners class you can take," then he turned to Scarlett, "Right?" the girl frowned.

"No, listen, don't look here," she said, "He'd need another werewolf."

"Like a teacher?" Scott asked, but in the way he said it, it seemed like he had already thought about that.

Scarlett nodded her head, "Everybody needs to learn somehow," she said, "Your body changes, your needs change. And soon, if you don't control it, it's going to control you," She still remembered what Talia had always said to her. From the moment they had found her, Talia and Peter had been the ones helping her with the beginning of her change. Even if, after everything that happened, Scarlett didn't keep her promise to stay as human as she could. She killed for rage at the beginning, but then it became fun. She knew that Talia didn't want that for her, but there was nothing else to do, if not killing every single Argent.

Stiles turned to his friend with wide eyes, "Who Derek?" he asked, and when Scott didn't answer, he slapped him behind the head, "You forgetting the part where we got him tossed in jail?"

What did she have to do? Say something? Say anything? Say that she knew Derek Hale? Or maybe not?

Maybe telling everything would have been more suspicious. Maybe she could find other times to tell it to them.

She had to be very careful. Derek was an unexpected change of events and not very pleasant. He was not like her or Peter.

"Yeah, I know," Scott answered. "But chasing her, dragging her to the back of the bus, it felt so real." Scarlett frowned. That was so strange; he remembered, but at the same time, he didn't. Something similar had happened the night before, but it was the driver.

"How real?" Stiles asked.

"Like it actually happened," Scott said, and Scarlett did her best not to draw any attention to herself. She was glad that her heart didn't beat anymore, or it would have been very difficult to explain.

They had arrived at the parking lot entrance, and Scarlett stooped behind the boys as they opened the door. What they saw made them gasp; the back door of the bus was torn open, and blood was everywhere. Scarlett's eyes moved to the puppy as Stiles spoke, "I think it did."

Scott immediately took his phone and went back into the school. Stiles and Scarlett shared a look before they both followed him.

"She is probably fine," Stiles said, trying to calm his friend. Scarlett observed the puppy, if he lost control would have been a mess. But he wasn't the only one who was feeling worry and fear. Her eyes went to Stiles, who was walking in front of her. She knew that those emotions weren't hers; they were his.

This bond thing was actually starting to freak her out. She had never thought that she would have felt like that. She absolutely had to talk to Peter and understand how to keep it under control.

"She's not answering my texts, Stiles!" Scott exclaimed, panicking.

"You know, it could just be a coincidence," Stiles said before looking down, "A seriously amazing coincidence."

"You're not helping," Scarlett said to him.

"Just help me find her, okay?" Scott begged, and Scarlett started to look around, trying to seem as worried as she could, even if she knew perfectly well that the girl was fine. For now, at least.

Scott was completely panicked right now. He would have turned if he had kept going on like this. Scarlett put a hand on Stiles' chest, holding him behind her as Scott turned the corner.

"He's gonna turn?" Stiles asked.

"If he keeps it like this, for sure," Scarlett answered, hearing a loud noise like the one given by a punch on metal. Scott had just destroyed a locker. Then she looked up at Stiles. His brown eyes were wide as he observed his friend, unsure of what to do. Maybe she should have acted a little more worried. Allison was supposed to be her friend.

"Isn't your dad the sheriff?" Scarlett asked Stiles as they kept following Scott.

"What? Yeah..." he answered from behind her.

"Any emergencies?" she asked, and she observed him think as his fingers tapped the straps of his bag frenetically. "If she had disappeared yesterday night, her parents would have called the police, wouldn't they?" Scarlett said. The Argents would have never slept well without knowing where their daughter was. If he could just stop for a moment and think, maybe he wouldn't have revealed to the entire school who he was.

And in fact, here she was, at the entrance, getting a jump scare from the puppy.

"Ah, thank God," Stiles said from next to Scarlett.

"Yeah..." she muttered, looking at the two.

He did not remember a thing from the night before. Scarlett knew that werewolves could be weak; they could lose control if they felt too strong emotions, especially if they were puppies. But Scarlett could not believe that he could even forget what he had been doing the night before.

"You've got Harris too?" Stiles' question made her turn to meet his eyes. The color of his eyes was of a strange color, in a good way. But it was the smell of his blood that caught her off guard. She already knew it, but it felt different.

"Yes," she said, taking a step back. "We... we better go."

The two of them decided to leave Scott to talk with Allison, and they made their way to Harris's classroom. Stiles did most of the talking, and Scarlett could not say that she was listening to him. Her eyes would keep lingering on his face, and so would the softness of his skin. She could almost hear his blood in his veins, and she would have gladly bit him, but not for hunger.

What the hell is happening?

"Don't you think?" Stiles' question made her turn to him with a frown. The smile on his face slowly got replaced by an embarrassed one. "I've bored you, haven't I?"

"No," she was quick to answer, "Not at all, I was just... thinking what would have happened if Scott had turned inside the school."

"Yeah," he answered, adjusting the bag on his shoulder. "Glad it didn't happen." It would have been difficult to explain to the entire school. The puppy was lovesick for sure, and Scarlett was not sure he would be of any use against the Argent.

"Are you okay?" She looked up at him when he asked that question. He was not inquisitive, only asking. Almost concerned. She was not used to that kind of gaze.

"Yeah," she said, looking away with a smile, "Yeah, just a tough morning that will only get tougher with Harris."

Stiles chuckled. "Oh, I know," he said, nodding his head. Nobody hates him like me. " Then he seemed to think about it. "And... nobody hates me like he does." That made her laugh, and as she did, Stiles looked at her with a cute, goofy expression, proud of himself for having her giggling.

"Well," she said as her eyes met his, "His loss."

As they entered the classroom, some students, including Harris, were already there. Scarlett frowned in observing the man; he was young, pleasant to look at, but he seemed already pissed at nine A.M. That was not attractive on a man.

There were not three seats at the same table, so Scarlett gave a glance to Stiles. "I guess I'll talk to you later."

He nodded his head quickly, "Yeah, yeah, for sure." Then he started to look around. "I'm gonna sit there," he pointed at a table not far from them. But as he was about to move, he turned to her with wide eyes, "Only if you don't want to sit there! It's not like that is my seat or something, just a seat. And it is in the back. But if you want it."

"Stiles," she stopped him, "You're ranting." Suddenly, a blush appeared on his face. The rush of his blood to his face, the beating of his heart, and the shyness that she was feeling from him had another strange effect on her.

"I'm sitting there," she said, trying to move away from him as quickly as possible. That was not normal. Why was Stiles getting her so distracted?

I have to speak to Peter, she told herself.

"Is this seat taken?" she asked to a girl with long black hair and pale skin. She looked up to her when she heard Scarlett's voice, and she blinked her dark eyes.

"No, you can sit," she said in a faint voice before returning to the sketch she was making in her notebook. That was a strange girl, for sure. Scarlett had already seen her; her name was Irene Woods, and she was considered strange by many people. Lydia always said that she freaked her out. Irene was always alone; she had no friends, and she usually talked to herself and whispered when she talked to others.

The lesson had started, and Scott had made it in time so as to not get detention. But if he wasn't late for class, he surely wasn't keeping a low profile. Not him or Stiles.

"Mr. Stilinski," Harris said in a loud voice, "If that's your idea of a hushed whisper, you might want to pull the headphones out every once in a while." Scarlett turned to look at the boys; they had been whispering since when Scott had first taken a seat. "I think you and Mr. McCall would benefit from a little distance, yes?"

"No," Stiles said with wide eyes. But his big eyes did not work on Harris because he made him move and sit anyway. Her eyes followed him like she was feeling drawn to his figure. She was starting to regret her idea, but Peter seemed to love it, so she probably just needed to get used to sharing a bond with Stiles and understand what that meant and how to control it. Sure, she had always found him cute, and she would have gladly eaten him, but this felt different, and it was pissing her off.

"Hey, I think they found something." A girl's sudden voice made them all turn to the windows before some of them rushed to see what was happening outside. Scarlett got up so that she could seem worried like everyone else, even if she knew very well that the cops must have found the body.

"What if he is not dead?" Irene's voice made Scarlett turn her gaze to the girl; she was still sketching and not moving from her position.

"What did you say?" Scarlett asked just before everyone gasped. She decided to leave the girl where she was and made her way to Stiles and Scott.

"This is good. This is good," Stiles said. He got up; he was not dead. Dead guys don't do that." Scarlett had to do all she could to not let her shock appear on her face. What did he mean that the driver was not dead? He should have been. Dead and forgotten.

"Stiles," Scott whispered, "I did that."