Stella Argent - Stiles Stilinski

Chapter 18

I was sleeping soundly when my phone rudely interrupted my slumber.

"Hello," I groggily mumbled, still half-asleep.

"Stella?" It was Lydia.

"Lydia, it's 1 am. If this isn't an emergency, I swear..." I pulled myself out of bed, turned on my lamp, and my eyes slowly adjusted to the light.

"It happened again... I was driving, and I ended up at the school," she said shakily.

"Okay, that's a good reason to call. I'm going to get Allison, and I'll call Stiles and Scott. I'm on my way," I replied as I pulled on my shoes.

"Hurry," she urged before ending the call.

I tiptoed into Allison's room and tapped her – who am I kidding, I actually gave her a little slap to wake her up. She startled awake, about to yell, but I quickly covered her mouth.

"Don't wake up Chris. It's Lydia; she's at the school," I whispered, then removed my hand.

"What? Why?" she asked, confused.

"It happened again."

Allison and I rushed out of the room, and I called Scott and Stiles as we headed to the school.

_____

"Where is she?" Stiles asked me urgently.

"Over here," I said, leading them to Lydia.

"Lydia?" Stiles looked at her, concern evident in his eyes.

"It's the same thing. 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," Lydia explained.

"You found a dead body?" Stiles asked, turning to the three of us.

"Not yet," Lydia replied, her tone uneasy.

"'Not yet'? What do you mean 'not yet'? Lydia, you're supposed to call us after you find the dead body," Stiles exclaimed, throwing his hands up in frustration.

"Oh, no, I'm not doing that again. You find the dead body from now on," Lydia shook her head.

Scott suddenly started walking away from them.

"What is it?" I followed him, concerned.

"I smell... blood," he said, his voice tense.

I followed him until he stopped abruptly. I turned in front of me, and there it was – the dead body.

"Guys! We found the dead body!" I yelled over Lydia and Stiles' bickering, making them snap to attention.

"Idioms, analogies, metaphors, and similes, all tools the writer uses to tell their story," Ms. Blake lectured. I diligently noted down the definition, doing my best to pay attention because I would either doze off or doodle on my paper otherwise.

Then she stopped, and I looked up at her. She was examining Lydia's paper, which happened to be a drawing of the same tree as before.

"Lydia, I wasn't aware you had so many hidden talents," Ms. Blake remarked, referring to the tree.

"You and every guy I've ever dated," Lydia smirked and returned to her drawing. I couldn't help but love her.

Ms. Blake looked slightly taken aback but continued with her lesson. "Oh, um, well, that was an idiom, by the way. Idioms are something of a secret to the people who know the language or the culture. They're phrases that only make sense if you know key words. Saying 'jump the gun' is meaningful only if you know about the starting gun in a race or a phrase like 'seeing the whole board,'" she explained.