Lifted ▸ Scott McCall

13 ; psychologist's perspective

CHAPTER THIRTEEN
PSYCHOLOGIST'S PERSPECTIVE

● ● ● ● ● ● ● ● ● ● ● ●

Before the light blue Jeep was even entirely pulled to a stop, Lena Roth had already pried the door open, and was swinging her legs out of the seat as she jumped through the doorframe. At this ungodly hour of the night, the girl was surprised she'd even made it out of bed without collapsing. But, almost as quickly had she exited the vehicle was she by Scott's side – with Stiles trailing behind, seeing as he'd opted to actually stop the Jeep before getting out, or, on Lena's part, jumping out.

"Where is she?" Stiles immediately asks, and Lena glances around fleetingly for a few moments.

"Over here," Allison's voice sounds, and all three frantic adolescents were turning towards a flustered Lydia and a worried Allison as the two walked towards them.

Stiles and Scott had begun to walk forwards, going to meet the girls in the middle. Lena took one last glance behind her, and was soon scouring after the boys, her fingers wringing together nervously at the mere thought of the dark druid still lurking in the outskirts of the high school.

"Lydia?" Stiles questions, moving so that the Roth girl could wedge herself in between him and Scott; Lena's hand brushed against Scott's, and she almost thought of the events that would have occurred if Stiles hadn't called that night in the vault – almost.

"It's the same thing," Lydia breathes out, "same thing as the pool. I got into the car heading somewhere totally different, and ended up here. And, you told me to call you if there's a dead body."

Stiles' eyes seemed to bulge as he sputters, "You found a dead body?"

"Not yet."

"Not yet? What do you mean 'not yet'? Lydia, you're supposed to call us after you find the dead body." Stiles sighs exasperatedly.

"Oh, no, I'm not doing that again," Lydia counters, to which Stiles' mouth parts slightly in shock. "You find the dead body from now on."

"How are we supposed to find the dead body? You're always the one finding the dead body," Stiles stresses, and Lydia holds a hand to stop him. As this argument commences, Lena's hand found Scott's and she motioned silently towards the school sign. Her eyes were darkened, though death was something she'd experienced before, this was all too gory and gruesome for her now. It was like she was becoming more and more human every day – something that only Scott could be to blame for.

The McCall boy gulped, his hand tightening around Lena's as he took a large step forwards, "Guys," he interjects. "We found the dead body."

□ □ □ □ □

Trauma wasn't usually a casualty that affected Lena Roth very much. She had seen death, and she had seen sacrifice. Lena knew what it felt like to be helpless, and she knew what it felt like to be a murderer. And, though she didn't feel much of anything after witnessing death, or even being a part of it, Lena's mind was racing with the images of the deputy from the night before; the limp body, the parted mouth and opened eyes – as if she were screaming. And, oh, the blood. Just visioning the sight made Lena's head swirl as her stomach flopped – and the clicking of Ms. Blake's heels on the tiled floor was only making her head spin at an even more distracting pace.

Jennifer Blake weaved in and out of the aisles of desks, her hands folded together before her as she spoke about what seemed to be completely irrelevant information to Lena. This wasn't her first year as a junior, and it certainly wouldn't be her last. She knew what an idiom was; but what she didn't know, though, was something that no teacher could ever possibly help her with.