After attending the Winter formal, Bree Simmons knew something wasn't right. Things have changed, and she isn't sure if they're for better, or worse. As a rising photographer, all of her attention is on the mysterious happenings in Beacon Hills. Whe...
Ups! Tento obrázek porušuje naše pokyny k obsahu. Před publikováním ho, prosím, buď odstraň, nebo nahraď jiným.
"You are royally screwed when he escapes," Bree sighed into the phone as she rushed up the school steps to enter Beacon Hills High, clutching her purse to her side.
She could imagine Stiles' face as he spoke through the phone, "You mean 'if'."
"No," she clarified, her green eyes looking deep into the cameras Gerard Argent had set up all over the school, "I mean 'when'. You know Plan A never works."
Stiles scoffed incredulously, "Sometimes it does."
Bree hummed while she rummaged through her locker to pick up her necessary books for English, "Keyword sometimes. And since he is a you-know-what, then it's a high possibility that he'll escape, whether he knows it or not."
"How are you so sure?"
She paused a moment, her eyes stared at the textbook in her hand before responding, "I just...It's something that happens a lot in movies and tv. Look, just be aware and careful. I don't want him to suddenly grow scales and tail and we end up finding you mauled in that van you stole."
"Well, that's incredibly cheerful and inspiring, thank you so much," his sarcasm bled through the phone making Bree roll her eyes.
She held a hand up, shrugging while she closed her locker, and headed to English. "Just trying to be realistic," she stated.
"Yeah," he sighed, "Well your realism seems a lot like pessimism."
She raised an eyebrow and frowned a bit, "Aren't you a pessimist?"
"Only sometimes," he replied, "Don't you have class?"
She mock shuddered, answering, "Please, don't remind me. I'm not ready for anything relating to school today."
He chuckled over the phone before she added, "Kay, I'm going, but please be careful."
"I will."
And with that Stiles hung up, leaving Bree to turn off her phone and slip it into her purse, set on vibrate in case Stiles' plan backfired as she predicted. She took a seat next to Allison's in the English room, offering the huntress a soft smile before Scott entered, and sat in the desk in front of Bree.
"Scott," Allison whispered, trying her best to get his attention for some reason unknown until-
"I'm afraid your teacher was feeling ill today, and had to leave early," a unfamiliar voice explained, heels stalking across the tiled floor causing Bree to look up, only to find none other than Victoria Argent glaring at each student in the room before fixating her cold blue eyes on Scott, a nasty expression on her face.
Bree gasped lowly, "Oh God."
~ * ~
The brunette photographer opened her locker to return her economics textbook when Allison strode over to her location, a concern look placed her face. Bree's eyebrow furrowed as she silently questioned what was going on.
