My leg nervously bounces underneath the dining room table, my eyes trained on the clock in the other room. An hour has passed since I saw Derek and my nerves are fried. Scott was too busy making out with my sister to help me search for the bullet earlier. This mystery bullet Derek needs is no where to be found and I can't help but feel like this is all my fault. If I can't find the bullet, what will happen to Derek? His arm didn't look so good before.
"Clara!" Mom barks from her end of the table. "Stop bouncing your leg. You're shaking the whole table."
I stop on her command, crossing my ankles together instead. "Sorry." I mutter, slowly looking at Scott sitting across from me.
Scott has been looking like a deer in the headlights ever since Dad caught him and Allison making out in the garage. After that, Aunt Kate had this idea for Scott to stay for dinner. The whole table has been silent, but I can see some questions brewing on Aunt Kate's face.
Another thought races to my mind about whether Aunt Kate shot Derek on purpose or not. No, this is Aunt Kate, she would never do that. Right?
"Would you like something else to drink besides water, Scott?" Mom breaks the awkward tension once again.
Scott stares down the table, his usual confused look on his face. "Oh- No, I'm good. Thanks." He sets the glass filled with water back down.
"We can get you some beer?" Dad asks and I can feel this conversation going downhill fast.
"N-No, thanks." Scott stutters, silently pleading with Allison for help.
"Shot of tequila?" Dad tries again.
Allison glares at him, annoyed. "Dad, really?"
Dad purposely ignores her, eyes only focused on Scott, who looks terrified. "You don't drink, Scott?"
This right here just shows why I will never bring a guy home. I don't need my dad interrogating them. Although, from the way Derek is built, he could easily take my dad, unless my dad has a gun. Oh, god. Derek still needs our help and I'm thinking of him as my boyfriend. This is not important.
"I'm not old enough to." Scott replies with a very good answer.
Mom holds her glass up from the table. "That doesn't seem to stop most teenagers."
Scott turns his attention to her end of the table. "No, but it should." Another good answer.
Aunt Kate smirks. "Good answer. Total lie, but well played, Scott. You may just survive the night." She winks at him from across the table.
Right when I think that we could have a normal conversation, Dad ruins any hope I may have had, "You ever smoke pot?"
"Oh, god." I mutter to myself, my face falling into my hand. Why can't I have a normal family?
"Okay," Aunt Kate drags out the 'o'. "Changing the channel to something a little less conservative. So, Scott, uh- Allison tells us that you're on the lacrosse team. I'm sorry. I don't know how anything about that. How do you play?"
I push the food around on my plate, too worried about Derek to care about the rules of lacrosse. I could always lie and say I wasn't feeling well. If Scott is going to help, then I need to.
Scott shifts in his seat. "Um, well, you know hockey? It's a lot like that, only, um, played on grass instead of ice."
My face scrunches up at his description. Scott does know that he just described field hockey and not lacrosse, right?
Dad fights back his smile when he sees my contorted face. "Hockey on grass- is called field hockey." At least I'm not the only one that caught that.
"Oh," Scott lowers his head. "Right."
A smile spreads across my twin's lips. "So, it's like field hockey, except the sticks have nets." Allison defends the red faced boy next to her.
"Exactly." Scott sends my sister a cute smile in appreciation.
I peek back at the clock. I need to get away from this dinner. Derek needs my help. My fingers begin to drum on my thigh, hidden by the tablecloth.
"And, you can slap check in hockey?" Aunt Kate acts like she is genuinely interested in the sport.
Scott glances at my dad, who has yet to lower his heavy glare. "Um, yeah, but it's only the, um, the gloves and the sticks."
"Sounds violent." Aunt Kate comments, smiling. "I like it."
My gaze flicks over to her, curiously. Is she saying that because she's being truthful or because she seeks out violent things? No. What am I doing? Aunt Kate is not a violent person. She is known for being protective, but she would never purposely hurt someone. As these thoughts enter my mind, I catch sight of the blueish-purple circle bruise on my wrist. Is there a side of her I've never seen before?
"Scott's amazing, too." Allison brags, completely forgetting about her half empty plate of food. "Dad came with us to the first game. Wasn't he good?"
"He was fine." Dad comments with a blank expression.
Allison frowns, not expecting that answer from him. "He scored the last shot, the winning shot." She goes back to her smiling self.
"True, but he didn't score at all, until the last few minutes."
Allison bites the inside of her cheek. Dad's remarks are getting to her. "His last shot ripped a hole through the goalie's net. It was incredible!"
Dad shrugs, twirling the water in his glass. "Well, I think the goalie was playing with a defective stick, so-"
Allison sits in her seat, silently fuming to herself. Okay, Dad stepped over the line there. Allison really likes Scott and he is just bashing on him, like a hammer on a nail. Quietly, I set my fork on my plate, showing that I'm done eating.
Scott looks at everyone at the table. "You know, on second thought, um, I think I'll take that shot of tequila."
Luckily, everyone starts laughing at his comical joke, breaking the unsettling mood. Dad even cracks and let's a few chuckles out, before he turns serious, "You were kidding, right?"
"Yeah."
My phone buzzes in my back pocket and I nearly jump out of my seat. No one really noticed my spaz attack, so I pretend to fake yawn. No one every really calls me, except for Lydia or Allison. Lydia is out with Jackson tonight and Allison is sitting diagonal to me. Who else did I give my number to? My eyes widen when I have a light bulb moment. Stiles.
"Um, I'm really tired." I yawn again for good measure. "I think I'm just going to call it an early night."
Mom scans my face with her piercing eyes, before nodding her head. "I'll get your plate."
I push away from the table, my phone going off again and I cover the noise by forcefully dragging my chair across the floor. I kiss mom on the cheek, along with Dad, just before I race up to the second floor. As soon as I'm ear shot away, I whip my phone out, seeing two missed calls from Stiles. What if Derek is dead?! My phone vibrates again and I waste no time in answering the call.
"Is Derek okay?" I rush to say, not giving Stiles a chance to talk first.
He sighs on the other side. "Barely. He's getting really weak."
I shut my bedroom door behind me. "Put him on the phone."
Shuffling noise comes from the phone and I know he is handing Derek the phone. "Did you find it yet?" Derek's voice floats through the phone.
I gnaw on my thumb nail. "No, I looked earlier, but I couldn't find it and Scott was busy with Allison- I'm going to look now, though."
"Clara, I need you to hurry." His voice gets softer.
My hand flies away from my mouth to my messy hair. "Just- Stay strong, okay? I'm going to get it, I promise." I sneak out of my room, without being seen. "For once, trust me." I say before hanging up.
The hallway, connected to the guest bedroom, light is on as I sneak into it. I quietly spin the doorknob to sneak in Aunt Kate's bedroom. A hand clamps around my mouth, almost making me scream, until I spot Scott's dark curly head. I would like to be mad at him for scaring me, except we don't have time for that.
"Did you find it?" I whisper, noticing a duffel bag, the duffel bag I tried to grab earlier, on the floor.
"I think so." Scott holds up a long bullet between his forefinger and thumb.
I lift my hand up, slowly reaching for the bullet. Scott almost drops the bullet and cocks his head to the side, like he is concentrating on something from far away. Is he listening to something?
"Someone's coming." He drops down to his knees to put everything away.
Confusion sweeps across my face as I wonder how he knew that. I don't hear anything, so, how on earth did Scott? Scott stuffs the bullet deep in his front pocket, grabs my hand, and dashes out of Aunt Kate's bedroom.
I yank back on Scott's hand, just as he tries to release mine and head for the door to leave. "You can't leave without me." I pull him down another hallway.
"Well, y-you can't leave with me. It will arouse too many questions." He drops my hand, leaning against the wall.
Rolling my eyes, I stand on my toes to slap the side of his head. "No dip, Sherlock." He mutters a quiet 'ow'. "You're going to say you have to go, I'm going to sneak back up to my room, climb out of the window, meet up with you, and we are both going to go to Derek."
His hand rubs his head, where my hand came in contact with it. "Okay-"
Allison comes around the corner, eyes narrowing on us, befuddled. "Oh- There you are. What are, uh- What are you guys doing?"
The few moments of silence that settle upon the three of us in the hallway causes me to wrack my brain for a plausible lie. Lies are going to take over my life at the rate I'm going. Ever since we moved to this town, I've been lying to everyone. As sisters, Allison and I have always been super close. We tell each other everything, except for the past month. Considering that my life is made up of lies now, I shouldn't have a problem lying to Allison once again.
"We are planning something for you." I smile sweetly at my twin. "Believe me when I say you are going to love it, but it's a surprise, so..." I swivel on my heel, looking back at the confused boy. "We will continue this some other day."
Scott doesn't know how to react and he does the simplest way of agreement by just nodding his head. An easy going smile slides across my sister's face as she believes my lie. The look Scott has on his face shows that he doesn't like to lie to Allison, not that I blame him, I don't like lying to my sister this much either.
"I, uh, should go." Scott pushes past me.
"I'll walk you out." My sister laces her fingers through his, leading him to the door.
The urge to bang my head against the wall has never been so high before. There's nothing I want more then to tell Allison everything. She would never keep these many secrets away from me. It feels like this town is almost separating us from each other.
I roll my shoulders back, before strolling back to the stairs. I would have continued up the stairs, except when I saw Aunt Kate storm by with a not too pleased look on her face, I knew I had to go see what was wrong. She stalked right up to Allison and Scott by the front door, seconds away from opening it.
"Wait a second, guys." She crosses her arms.
"What is it?" Allison let's her hand fall away from the doorknob.
Quietly, I step closer to Aunt Kate, curious beyond belief at what's going on. Dad must have heard Aunt Kate because, the next thing I know, he is standing behind me, arms firmly crossed, just like his sisters'.
"Uh, I have something to ask Scott."
A look of panic flashes across Scott's face for a second. "Me?" He feigns innocence.
Oh god. Please just have this be another lacrosse question. Does she know we took a bullet?
"Yeah, you."
"Okay."
"Uh, what did you take from my bag?"
All the blood drains from my face at her impending question. She knows. Aunt Kate knows he took the bullet. How are we supposed to explain this?
"What?"
"My bag. What'd you take from it?" Aunt Kate grows irritated. "Do you need me to repeat the question, enunciate more clearly?"
Scott peeks over at me for any help that I could possibly give. I come up blank, unsure how to even approach this situation. I'm afraid that if I defend Scott, it will make it look like I helped him, which I kind of did. If they find out that I helped Scott, then I will get a bunch of questions demanding why, and Derek doesn't seem to want anyone to know that we, sort of, hang out.
Dad creeps closer to me, piercing eyes locked on Scott. "What are you talking about?"
Aunt Kate slightly turns to him. "My bag was open in the guest room, and when I left it was shut. And, Scott comes in to use the bathroom, he leaves, my bags open."
Allison shakes her head, looking from Scott to our Aunt. "He didn't take-"
"Something was taken from my bag." Aunt Kate continues with a rude, yet persistent attitude. "Now, look- I hate to be the accuser here, Scott, because I really do love those adorable brown eyes, but I don't know if you're a klepto, if you're curious, or- or if you're just stupid. But answer the question, what did you take?"
Think of some kind of lie, Scott. You can't tell her the real reason or maybe you can and she'll understand.
"Nothing. I swear." Scott tries to convince her.
Aunt Kate steps closer. "You don't mind proving it, do you?"
Oh, god. I should have grabbed the bullet from him. That way, he could have emptied his pockets and he could walk out of here without my Aunt Kate wanting to murder him six feet under.
"Are you serious?" I butt in, tired of not helping Scott in anyway that I can."
"How about you show us what's in your pockets?"
"Dad?" Allison and I gasp, hoping for some kind of help.
Aunt Kate is way to adamant about this. Why is a bullet so important to her? I'm sure she can go to a store and get more.
She doesn't give up, though. Aunt Kate just keeps taunting Scott, like she expects to get some kind of reaction from him. I don't think I've ever really seen this side of Aunt Kate. "Come on, Scott. Prove me wrong."
"Uh, I'll prove you wrong." Allison says, a look on her face, like she is about to regret saying something. "Uh, it wasn't Scott going through your bags, it was me."
Aunt Kate gives Allison a disbelieving look. "You?"
Allison steps forward. "Mhmm, me." She pulls out something silver from her back pocket and my mouth nearly hits the floor at the square packet of a condom.
What a plot twist that none of us expected. Everyone's eyes widen, including Scott's, as we comprehend the situation. It looks like my sweet, innocent, twin sister isn't as innocent as everyone had thought.
» » »
I've never been one of those teenagers to sneak out of my house, except for the night to go bowling, I've always been a good girl and followed the rules for the most part. Maybe that's why I knew my parents wouldn't be bothered to check my room once I told them I was going to bed. They wouldn't expect me to do something crazy like sneak out and hop on Scott's handlebars to ride to Beacon Hills Animal Clinic. Beacon Hills is beginning to change me into a new person and I think I like who I am becoming.
Besides being a good girl, I knew that my parents would be way too busy talking to Allison about that whole incident she caused earlier. Aunt Kate didn't seem to pleased that it was Allison, who rifled through her bag, she acted like she was disappointed that it wasn't Scott.
"Scott, I know you are already going fast, but is there any way you can go faster?" I grip the bar in my hands tighter, in case he gets a random burst of energy.
"We're almost there."
The whole way here, I've been asking Scott questions about Derek. Unfortunately, he won't explain anything to me and I'm beginning to think I'm starting to drive him mental. I breathe out of my nose before deciding that I need to say something else. "Do you think Derek is okay?"
Scott sighs. "I-I don't know."
I bite my lip, nervously. What if we did all of that and now Derek is past the stage of help? What if it's too late?
We reach the Animal Clinic in record time. The bike doesn't even get a chance to fully stop because Scott and I hop off of it, racing for the front door. Scott makes it inside of the building first, which I'm thankful for since I've never been inside of here before.
"Stiles?!" Scott shouts, running through different rooms.
A hopeful voice comes from a room not too far from us, "Scott?"
I push Scott's back, hoping to make him run faster. I need to see if Derek is okay. The first thing to catch my attention isn't Derek, but the hand saw in Stiles' hand.
"What the hell are you doing?" Scott gapes at the hand saw that has captured his attention, too.
Stiles sets the hand saw on the silver lab table. "Oh, you just prevented a lifetime of nightmares." He sighs in relief.
Was he about to saw off Derek's arm?!
"Did you get it?" Derek's voice makes me snap my eyes in his direction. He looks even worse than he did a couple of hours ago. This wound is really taking a toll on him.
Scott scrambles through his pockets for the bullet. He hands it over to Derek. "What are you going to do with it?"
Derek eyes the bullet. "I'm gonna- I'm gonna-" His words become breathy and his eyes roll into the back of his head, collapsing to the floor.
"Derek!" I shout, diving to the floor next to him after I hear the bullet fall to the floor. Scott chases the bullet, until it slips into a vent in the floor. Instinctively, I press two fingers to the side of his neck, feeling for a pulse.
"Is he alive?" Stiles drops to his knees on the other side of Derek.
A faint pulse is felt against my fingers. "Barely. His pulse is weak." I retract my fingers. "Scott, what do we do?" I call out to the boy, who is laying on the floor reaching for the bullet through the vent. I don't know why I'm asking Scott, he just seems like he would be the second in command, since Derek is unavailable at the moment.
"Derek. Derek?" Stiles calls his name, hoping for some kind of response from my conscious friend.
I press one hand against his chest. "Derek, please wake up. I need you. You can't die on me." I shake him, partially opening that he will just wake up and everything will be okay.
"Scott, what the hell are we going to do?!" Stiles frantically yells. He obviously doesn't do too well under situations like this.
"I don't know!" Scott strains to grab the bullet. "I can't grab it."
I lean forward, gently grabbing his face in one hand. "He's not waking up!" I begin to panic even more.
"Come on." Scott mutters to himself.
"I think he's dying. I think he's dead!" Stiles checks his pulse in his wrist.
"No, no, no." I feel my eyes start to water. "Derek, stay with us."
"Do CPR!" Stiles randomly bursts out, staring at me, wide eyed.
My eyes widen a considerably large amount. "W-What?" Did I hear him correctly?
Stiles stares back. "CPR. He's dying, but he is not getting my lips pressed to his. You're a girl- you do it."
"I-I don't know how!" I freak out.
"You plug his nose, press your lips to his, and blow air into his mouth. What's there to know?" Stiles states, sassily.
Unsure of how to even do this, I hesitantly plug Derek's nose between my finger and thumb. Come on, Clara. Derek could be close to death right now and he needs your help. I count to three in my head before pressing my lips to his cold ones, breathing hot air into his mouth like Stiles suggested. I am a teenage girl, and I have thought of kissing Derek a few times while I was daydreaming in class, except this is never how I expected it to go. He was supposed to breathing and he was supposed to make the first move.
"Nothing's happening!" I sit back on my heels after a few failed attempts. "Stiles, do something!"
"Just hold on!" Scott shouts from his spot on the floor. "Come on. Oh! I got it! I got it!" Scott pushes himself off of the floor.
An idea flashes across Stiles' face and he raises his fist. "Please don't kill me for this." He pulls his fist back and releases it, letting it slam into Derek's face.
Derek jolts awake and climbs to his feet. Oh, thank the heavens!
Stiles cradles his hand to his chest. "Ugh. Ow! God!"
He deliriously mumbles, "Give me-"
Hesitantly, Scott hands Derek the bullet, worried he might drop it again. Derek bites the head of the bullet off with his teeth. He pours the gun powder on to the top of the table. Scott, Stiles, and I watch him do this, like he has done it a million times. The powder lights on fire, when Derek ignites it with a lighter. He brushes the now lit gun powder in his hand and I can't help, but notice the odd color of smoke it is giving off, a blueish purple.
I lean closer, curious to see what he plans on doing with the gun powder. Derek jabs his finger, covered with gun powder, into his bullet wound. He yells out in pain, falling to the ground, the pain too much for him to handle. Not having any idea of what to do, I stay rooted to the floor. I don't quite understand how the gun powder could help the wound. You would think that it would just make the infection worse.
The black veins suddenly start to retract back towards the bullet wound. My jaw nearly unhinges, while my eyes widen at the unnatural healing happening on Derek's arm. How is he doing that? That's not humanly possible! Wounds can't heal like that. The hole in his arm was just there a few seconds ago and now, skin that doesn't even have a blemish, is in its place.
"That. Was. Awesome!" Stiles throws his hands up in the air once Derek stops writhing around on the floor. "Yes!"
I take a step away from the three of them. I don't know whether to be fearful of Derek or react like Stiles did. My emotions are going in a sorts of directions.
"Are you okay?" Scott asks Derek.
Derek struggles to get up from the floor. "Well, except for the agonizing pain." Derek responds in a sarcastic voice.
"I'm guessing the ability to use sarcasm is a good sign of health." Stiles remarks with his own sarcasm.
How are they not freaking out about what just happened?!
Slowly, one by one, they each turn their heads towards me. My lips are slightly parted, still in shock from what I just witnessed.
"I, uh-" I glance at each of them.
Derek, still weak, tries to walk closer to me. "Clara-"
Shaking my head, I side step away from him, a part of me scared of Derek. "I'm just going to wait outside." I storm past him and quickly make my way out of the animal clinic.
I wander a few feet away from the animal clinic. My thoughts going haywire from the previous events. Derek just completely healed without any sort of medicine or anything remotely normal when dealing with a wound. His skin just healed. Why did Scott and Stiles act like what just happened wasn't a big deal? That was a huge deal! People can't just heal like that! I saw Derek's arm, it looked like it could fall off at any minute.
The door creaks open behind me, but I keep my back to whoever is coming out. My mind is too jumbled up to even carry out a full conversation. This isn't right. This isn't normal. It's just- no.
"Clara?" Stiles calls from behind me. I keep my back to him. "Derek had to go show Scott something," I whip around to face him. "But he said he would talk to you later. I'm supposed to take you home."
"Stiles, what happened back there?" I desperately seek out answers. His mouth opens, but he shuts it immediately after. "You can't tell me." I conclude.
"I'm sorry."
» » » » »
Hours have passed since Stiles dropped me back off at home. Everyone was already in bed when I snuck back into my room, so I was lucky enough to not have a problem with being heard. As much as I wanted to, I just couldn't fall asleep, my mind was too concerned with the fact that Derek is not who he says he is. What he did is impossible. The bullet wound should have taken months to even heal and, even then, the skin would scar.
The internet was completely useless when I searched to see if there was some unusual remedy to use gun powder for a nasty infected, wound. The only information I came up with was that Derek must be some kind of warlock. I obviously don't know Derek as well as I thought I did. He asks me to trust him, and then he goes and does something as crazy as that. Derek didn't even stick around to explain, he just left with Scott.
I aimlessly flip the page of the teen magazine I've been looking at for the past thirty minutes, nothing registering in my mind. Something hits my window that has the view to the backyard. I tear my gaze away from the window, once I determine that it was probably just a bug. The cute dress on the page holds my attention for about a minute until a sound comes from my window for the second time. What is that?
Slowly, I climb off of my bed and tiptoe over to my window, not quite sure what I'm expecting to see outside. I push up on my window, opening it just enough to peek outside. There's nothing on the roof outside of my window, but on the ground is a different story.
I blow hot air out of my nose, resting my forearms against the window pane. "What are you doing here?" I whisper shout down to my visitor.
Derek shoves his hands in his leather jacket pockets. "We need to talk."
"That's an understatement." I snap, growing irritated.
"Just come downstairs."
I purse my lips. "Are you actually going to talk to me or are you just going to leave with Scott again?"
"Clara."
"Fine." I grumble. "Let me at least put on my shoes." I glance down at my red flannel pajama pants and black tank top.
I back away from my window, scooping up a black hoodie and sliding into a pair of black, slip on Vans. Instead of risking being heard by sneaking out of the front door, I crawl out of my window. Derek's eyes widen as I carefully watch my footing as I creep closer to the edge of the roof.
"Careful." Derek says to me as I bend my knees, preparing to flip off of the roof.
Ignoring him, I front flip off of the roof, landing on my feet. "Are you going to tell me what's going on now?" I cross my arms over my chest.
He sighs, obviously not wanting to do this. "Yes, but not here." Derek stalks off into the woods.
I jog after him, silently wishing I changed into jeans. The weather is rather chilly and these flannel bottoms aren't as warm as I want them to be. Derek wanders deeper into the woods, not even bothering to look back to see if I'm still with him. The woods are creepy and dark, but with Derek, I feel safe. I can't say I am too surprised when Derek leads us to his burned down house.
"Ask away." Derek waves his hand in the air, once we step foot in the main foyer of the house.
A thousand questions race through my mind, begging to be asked first. "How did you heal so quickly?"
"Let's start with an easier question."
"Okay." I drag out the word. "Why does no one like you?" I try again.
Derek sits down on a step on the stairway. "Because of what I am and what my family has done."
I stay near the door. "What happened to your family?"
"They were killed in this house fire." He spreads his arms out wide, indicating to the burned down house.
I gasp, surprised by his answer. I expected him to say that they moved to another state or something. "Oh. I'm so sorry. You said people hate you because of what you are...What are you?"
"I don't want to scare you."
I walk over to him, eyebrows raised. "What do you mean?"
"I'm something that people run away from in terror." Derek sighs through his nose.
"Derek-"
"I'm a werewolf." He blurts out. "Just like Scott."
I raise a brow at him. Is he being serious right now? A werewolf? "Are you freaking kidding me? I ask for you to be honest and you tell me that you are a freaking werewolf?" I explode, angrily. "This isn't a game, Derek. I wanted to know what was going on with you and you feed me this ridiculous lie?! You know what? Screw you! I'm tired of you telling me to 'trust you'. I've tried to help you out and, now, I'm done."
Without another word said, I storm out of his house. I stomp through the woods, in what I hope is the right direction to my house.
"Clara!" Derek shouts and, much to my dismay, chases after me. "Turn around."
"Just leave me alone-" I lose track of what I was saying as soon as I spin around and see Derek. "What the hell?" I stare wide eyed at the unnecessary facial hair grown on his face. That hair wasn't there a few seconds ago. Did he put on a mask?
"I'm telling you the truth." Derek reaches for me. Sharps fangs protrude out of his mouth.
Nearly tripping over a root in the ground, I back away from him, fearfully. "Don't touch me!"
Derek grimaces as I continue to put as much distance as I can away from him. This isn't Derek. Werewolves don't exist. "Clara, please."
"No!" I shout, my voice echoing through the woods. "Just- Leave me alone!" I run away from the monster.
»»»»» »»»»» »»»»» »»»»» »»»»» »»»»» »»»»» »»»»» »»»»» »»»»» »»»»» »»»»» »»»»» »»»»» »»»»» »»»»» »»»»» »»»»» »»»»» »»»»» »»»»» »»»»» »»»»» »»»»» »»»»» »»»»» »»»»» »»»»» »»»»» »»»»»
Author's Note:
Yay! So, I updated! Clara is scared of Derek. I thought that a character should react as how most people would. She freaked out.
This chapter should be really long because I've been working on it for a couple days when I had time. I hope you guys like it!
And don't worry about this whole freak out. I have a plan for it.
Derek must be pretty upset, huh?
Question: Have you started reading On Your Side? It's a story I'm cowriting with @AK_Dionysius on our joint account @aberrant_wolfies
So, yeah!