Chapter 23

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I DO NOT OWN TEEN WOLF. Only Melanie and her plot lines.

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"Call the cops." Jackson's voice threateningly loomed over everyone else's. The lacrosse players arms firmly crossed as well as a disheveled glare overpowering his features.

Stiles scoffed, alongside the roll of his eyes, "No."

"What do you mean, no?"

I struggled to hold back the groan of frustration bubbling in the depths of my throat. For, Jackson alway got whatever his heart desired. The term no obviously being foreign as he scrunched his nose up in confusion.

As for Stiles, his expression almost mimicked mine. His features contorted with lividness all while he pursed his lips into a thin line, "No. Do you want to hear it in Spanish? Noh." As Jackson gave the boy a disapproving glare, Stiles proceeded to speak, "Look. Derek killed three people already, we don't know what he's armed with."

It was true. We had stupidly blamed deceased Derek for the numerous killings placed about Beacon Hills. Everyone thinking that Derek was running ramped about the eerie hallways, struggling the find six teenagers in which decided to take a late night stroll throughout the school. Where, in reality, a gigantic werewolf is somewhere around here thirsty for blood.

"You're dad is armed with the entire Sheriffs department. Call him."

Lydia was already one step ahead of the two boys, yanking the phone out of her bright pink purse and dialing 911, "I'm calling."

"Wait Lydia, would you just hang on a second?" Frowned Stiles, but she didn't seem to care in the slightest bit about his protests. For she gave him a stern look as she proceeded with the call.

"Yes, we're at the Beacon Hills high school and were trapped—" Her sentence was soon cut short, the strawberry blonde looking anything but relieved, "Wait no. No–but." She ripped the phone from her ear, staring at it in disbelief, "She hung up on me?"

It was probably Mary. In whom despised Stiles and I with a burning passion. The prank calls we had previously done (when we were quite young I may add) not helping us whatsoever at the moment,

Allison narrowed her eyes doubtfully, "The police hung up on you?"

Lydia shook her head "She said something about a tip warning them that there were going to be prank calls about a break in at the high school. And that if I called back, she would trace the call and have me arrested."

"Then call back."

"No." Stiles groaned, "They won't trace a cell phone, and they would show up to your house first anyways."

"Then w-what is this? What do we do?" Allison whined, all eyes somehow aimlessly floating towards Scott.

"Why is everyone looking at me?"

"Did you send Allison that text?" Asked Lydia, crossing her arms firmly across her chest.

"N-No. I-I mean I don't know." Scott stuttered nervously, his cheeks now equipped with a tint of rosiness.

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