Howling to the Heart || Isaac Lahey

7.

"So, you killed her?" Stiles asked Scott as we walked into school. Apparently, Scott had some bizarre dream about killing Allison that basically put him off sleeping ever again. Oh, and now he's ten times more worried about Allison.

"I don't know," Scott said. "I just woke up. And I was sweating like crazy, and I couldn't breathe. I've never had a dream where I woke up like that before."

"Really?" Stiles questioned. "I have. Usually ends a little differently."

I slapped him on the back of the head. "Not something I need to know when I sleep in your bed, Stilinski," I muttered with a fake gag.

He sent me a playful glare, shoving me slightly. "You can happily take the couch if you want."

"Uh, no," I said, holding up my hand to his face. "I'm happy with the bed. I'll just need to wash the sheets every day in case."

Scott laughed, looking at my disgusted face and at Stiles' eye roll as he pushed my hand down.

"A, I meant I've never had a dream that felt that real, and B, never give us that much detail about you in bed again," Scott said with a shudder.

"Agree," I chimed in, faking another gag. "Too much information for a Monday morning."

"Noted," Stiles agreed. "Let me take a guess here though—"

"No, I know," Scott cut him off. "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."

"No, of course not," Stiles objected.

I sent him a pointed look. "That's totally it."

"Yeah, she's right," Stiles mumbled. "Hey, come on. It's gonna be fine, all right? Personally, I think you're handling this pretty freaking amazingly. You know, it's not like there's a Lycanthropy for beginners class you can take."

"Yeah, trust me there isn't," I said, looking at both of them. "Would've been really helpful a few years ago."

Stiles snorted while Scott sent us looks. "Yeah, not a class but maybe a teacher."

"Who? Riah?" Stiles asked, pointing at me.

I shook my head. "I don't think I'm exactly the best teacher."

"Who then, Derek?" Stiles asked and Scott nodded. I stifled a laugh as Stiles slapped him on the back of the head. "You forgetting the part where we got him tossed in jail?"

"Yeah, I know, but chasing her, dragging her to the back of the bus, it felt so real," Scott argued.

"How real?" I asked, pulling my phone out of my bag.

"Like it actually happened," Scott said, pushing the door open in front of us.

I followed behind Stiles but ran straight into his back as he suddenly stopped. "Stiles, what the hell?"

He only gabbed my arm, pulling me around him. My phone fell from my hand and my jaw dropping at the sight of the door on the back of the bus bent open with claw marks and blood everywhere while police investigated it.

"I think it did," Stiles said, still holding onto my arm.

"You know what? Maybe we should visit Derek," I suggested with a cringe.

"Maybe it was my blood on the door," Scott suddenly said, turning around to me and Stiles sitting behind him in chemistry. My least favorite class, all thanks to the pain of an ass teacher.