The Lives We Lead | tmr/tw • tw/tmr |

(11) Turbocharged Bilinski

After a long day of classes that Stiles realized he didn't even need to take, he was in search of Coach Bobby Finstock.

Scott was walking beside him with a bewildered look on his face, still not knowing how to process the events of their last period.

Cue fashback!

They were about to take an AP Physics test involving thermodynamics. Not a single student knew what they were doing as they pulled out their scientific calculators and anxiously waited for the teacher to pass out the tests. No one could seem to understand why their teacher insisted on taking the big exam on thermodynamics only a week after starting the unit.

Scott kept bouncing his leg in anticipation since he really didn't want the test hurt his grade.

While everyone else was trying to talk themselves off of the figurative academic-edge, Stiles had been shifting through his backpack. He found his pencil with ease and he even found a protractor—which he was pretty sure he hadn't used since freshman year—but he couldn't find his scientific calculator. Once their teacher, Mr. Woolden, sat a test in front of Stiles, he had given up on finding his own calculator. As a last result, he asked if he could borrow one from Mr. Woolden.

"And why, may I ask, did you not bring your own calculator, Mr. Stilinski?"

"Because I misplaced it, sir," Stiles muttered with a small glare. Why were all these teachers attacking his most simple requests? Stiles didn't think it was 'Everybody Harass Stiles Day'.

"Since you neglected to bring your own calculator to a class where you always need one, I find it fair that you will have to suffer the consequences," Mr. Woolden explained in a rather nasally voice. "You'll have to do all your work by hand."

Stiles felt ready to get up and leave the room. And he would have it he didn't need to keep his grades up till graduation.

Stiles had talked To Scott's dad about an FBI program in D.C. but he had to maintain a good GPA if he wanted to get in. Scott's dad was already pulling strings just to get them to accept his application since the deadline for applying was during that three month period in which Stiles ceased to exist on earth 618. He couldn't afford to fail a test because he just got up and left.

"...fine," he muttered while forcefully gripping his pencil.

A minute later, the students were told to begin their tests and Stiles found himself doing plenty of scratch work.

Many stress-filled students sat and worked throughout the period and many found themselves just staring at their papers for extended amounts of time before coming to the conclusion that it was better to give a wrong answer than no answer at all.

After what felt like an eternity—but was probably no more that an hour and a half—every student had finished their test except for Stiles.

The class was to remain quite and responsible until everyone was done and they weren't allowed to have their phones out either. They all just watched Stiles and hoped he was close to done. During this time, Mr. Woolden was flying through grading the freshly finished tests. Once he was on his second to last test to grade, he looked up and raised a brow at Stiles.

"Mr. Stilinski, are you sure you know the material? It shouldn't be taking you this much longer than the rest of the class."

A muscle twitched in Stiles' jaw and he knuckles turned white as he clenched his pencil. After glaring down at his paper for a moment, He looked and was met with his teacher's smug expression.