Waking up for another day of school, I could feel the weight of stress bearing down on me. Being in a new school had brought a whirlwind of thoughts and worries to my mind. As I began getting ready, my heart started to race, amplifying the tension within me. In an attempt to calm myself down, I hurried to the bathroom and reached for the faucet to splash water on my face. But just as I was about to turn it on, my gaze fell upon a horrifying sight—the emergence of werewolf-like claws extending from my nails. Fear gripped me, and I questioned whether this was a dreadful dream or a frightening reality. In a state of panic, I quickly turned on the water and splashed it on my face, hoping it would bring me back to normal. I cautiously looked down at my hand once more, only to find that the claws had disappeared.
"You ready?" Allison's voice interrupted my moment of disbelief as she popped into the doorway.
I glanced at my hand once again, double-checking that I wasn't losing my sanity. The absence of the claws provided some relief. "Yeah," I replied with a sigh, grateful that my appearance seemed normal again. I grabbed my bag and headed off to school,
I trudged through the school halls, a deep sense of disdain for the place permeating my thoughts. School—how I hated it. The monotony, the confinement, the feeling of being trapped in a place that seemed so distant from anything meaningful or fulfilling. Sometimes, the urge to burn the entire building down would seize me, the idea of reducing it to ashes holding a strange allure. No regrets. None whatsoever. But I knew deep down that such thoughts were only fleeting fantasies, a release valve for my frustrations.
As I walked alongside Allison and Lydia, heading to our next class, our conversation turned to the mysterious girl who had left strange bruises on our arms. Lydia scoffed at the idea, her tone dripping with sarcasm. "So, mystery girl leaves a bruise on our arms that turns out to be the logo for a bank? What's she trying to do? Give us investment advice?"
I glanced at Lydia, unable to suppress a chuckle at her witty remark. It was a momentary distraction from the looming boredom of the school environment.
"Not at this bank. It's been closed for years," Allison replied, her voice tinged with weariness. I couldn't help but wonder why we were still discussing these bruises, as they seemed to be nothing more than a perplexing mystery.
"Why aren't you telling Scott?" Lydia inquired, her curiosity getting the better of her.
"Because, according to someone, I need to find something real," Allison explained, her words leaving Lydia and me momentarily silent as we exchanged a knowing look. There was more to Allison's statement than met the eye, and we understood that prying further would lead us down a complicated path.
"Which reminds me," Allison continued, breaking the silence. "Um, I can't drive you home today. I have an errand to run after school." I glanced at Allison, a confused expression furrowing my brow, but ultimately, I chose to keep my thoughts to myself.
After biology class, I met back up with Allison in the hallway. There was an uneasy tension between us, and I couldn't hold back my curiosity any longer.
"Why did you lie?" I finally mustered the courage to ask, looking directly into her eyes.
Allison gave me a questioning look, clearly trying to recall the context of my question.
"To Lydia," I clarified, hoping to clear up any confusion.
She hesitated for a moment, seemingly searching for the right words. "Oh, I want you to come with me to sneak in the bank," she finally admitted, as if it was the most casual thing in the world.
I quickly stepped in front of her, blocking her path. "Slow your roll there, Argent," I said, my voice laced with concern. "Are you fucking insane?"
Allison pondered my question for a brief moment, a mischievous glint in her eyes. "Yeah," she replied, a hint of laughter escaping her lips.
I sighed, realizing that arguing further would be futile. "Ugh, fine. I'll go, but if the cops come, every Argent for themselves," I said with a half-hearted laugh, trying to mask my apprehension.
"Deal," Allison agreed, chuckling a little in response.
Together, Allison and I made our way back home, sneaking through the familiar streets of Beacon Hills. As we walked, my mind began to drift, and memories of my past flooded my thoughts. I couldn't help but dwell on the absence of my mother, the uncertainty surrounding my father's identity, and the tragic loss of my aunt. The feeling of being abandoned, of everyone gradually slipping away from me, weighed heavily on my heart. Glancing over at Allison, who was engrossed in an episode of Family Guy, a bittersweet smile playing on her face, I couldn't help but feel a glimmer of comfort amidst the chaos.
"Allison," I whispered softly, catching her attention. She turned to look at me, and I mustered the courage to voice my insecurities. "Can you make me a promise? Promise me that you'll never leave me, like so many others have."
Allison rose from her position and enveloped me in a warm hug, reassuring me with her presence. "I promise, Stella," she said, her smile offering solace and comfort.
"I love you," I declared, my voice filled with genuine affection.
Her response was immediate and heartfelt. "I love you too."
We resumed our activity of watching television together, the weight of my fear gradually dissipating in the warmth of our shared love. However, after some time, I decided to go upstairs to take a shower. As I ascended the stairs, I heard Allison say something, which struck me as odd since I was already halfway up the stairs. Ignoring the peculiarity, I continued to my room, but once again, I heard her voice.
Curiosity getting the better of me, I called out from upstairs, "Allison, did you say something?"
"No" she yelled back, her response carrying through the house.
As I made my way upstairs, the strange phenomenon of still hearing Allison's voice nagged at my curiosity. It was unsettling to hear her as if she were right next to me, even though I had ascended well beyond the halfway point. The persistent question of how this was possible gnawed at my mind, leaving me with an unshakable sense of unease. In search of answers, I decided to turn to the one person I knew who would always be annoyingly honest—Stiles. Luckily I already knew where he lived because Allison would give him rides if his Jeep isn't working when I arrived at Stiles' house. Parking my car, I approached the front door and knocked, eager to delve into the mystery that had unsettled me. Stiles opened the door, his surprise evident on his face as he registered my unexpected presence.
"What are you doing here, Argent?" Stiles inquired, clearly taken aback by my unexpected visit.
"Not now, Stilinski," I snapped, brushing past him with a sense of urgency.
"Hey, I didn't say you could come in..." Stiles protested, but I didn't have the patience to entertain his objections. Frustrated, I swiftly punched him on the arm, causing him to wince in pain.
"Owww. Okay, okay, chill. You can come in anytime," he conceded, rubbing his arm.
Seizing his arm, I pulled him upstairs to his room, shutting the door behind us. As I stared at the closed door, my thoughts circled back to the peculiar events that had unfolded earlier, and my heart began to race.
Stiles, noticing my distress, asked with concern, "Are you okay?"
"This morning, while I was in my room getting ready, I looked at my hands, and they had transformed into claws," I began, my voice trembling. "And tonight, just a little while ago, I heard Allison mumbling something about it being funny, but the strange part is that I was upstairs in my room."
My heart pounded faster in my chest, and I struggled to catch my breath. "I don't know what's happening," I admitted, my words heavy with fear.
Stiles pulled me into a comforting hug, offering reassurance. "It's probably just the whole supernatural thing," he suggested.
"Why did you come to me?" Stiles asked, his voice tinged with curiosity.
I glanced at him, feeling a mix of confusion and uncertainty. "What do you mean?"
"You could have called Scott or Lydia, but you came to me instead," he pointed out.
"I don't know," I muttered, the truth of my decision eluding me at that moment.
Today was the day of Allison's wild plan of breaking in the bank
"Okay, let me rephrase it then: Every Argent for themselves," I smirked, emphasizing the playfulness of my remark.
Allison responded with an exaggerated eye roll, clearly unimpressed by my attempt at humor.
"I heard you the first time," she replied, her tone laced with mild exasperation.
A/N Sorry this was a short chapter