CHAPTER EIGHT
A CRIMSON CURSE
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I groaned as I stood in line.
"What now?" Stiles laughed, poking my shoulder.
I pointed at the giant rock wall less than ten feet away from us. "This should be illegal. Do you think if I can get a bunch of signatures we can rally against this?"
"You don't like rock walls?" Stiles asked, raising an eyebrow in confusion.
I shook my head. "I don't like gym," I corrected. "This wall is only about half my problem."
I took another glance at the plastic gray wall that had been set up in the middle of the gym. Coach just had to make today's lesson about climbing a rock wall. Was he out to get me or something? And besides, knowing how to climb up a wall with rainbow colored footholds isn't going to help us in the real world. It was like those weird fruit problems in math class. Like, seriously, if anyone buys that many oranges, you have a problem. Seemingly the most important thing in a teachers eyes, a sleep aid to most students. If rock climbing or needing to know the price of eighty and a half oranges ever comes up, I'll probably be screwed but oh well.
"It's not that bad," Stiles commented, eyeing the wall. "We might even be partners. Scott and Allison are."
I glanced at the wall where the secret couple appeared to be racing to the top. "And you being strapped in next to me is supposed to help me how?"
He opened his mouth before closing it and pausing. He looked at the wall, then back at me and shrugged. "There's a mat to catch you if you fall?"
I rolled my eyes. "Babe, it's a fifteen foot plastic wall. Who's going to be dumb enough to fall—"
A loud thump was heard, cutting me off. Our gazes shifted up front to where Scott was flat on his back on the mat. Allison was at the top and was smirking down at her boyfriend. Finstock laughed louder than anyone and made some offhand comment about enjoying our best friends pain.
"Okay, so I forgot to add Scott into the equation," I laughed. "Either way, I'm not that brain dead enough to fall on a mat."
"I never said otherwise," Stiles smiled, pressing a kiss to my cheek.
"Stilinski! Stop kissing my students!" Finstock yelled. Stiles blushed slightly as the class laughed. Finstock's eyes landed on me. "Bradley, you're up. Take Greenburg with you."
My eyes scanned over the crowd before landing on Finstock's least favorite student. I groaned.
Finstock nodded sympathetically—or at least as sympathetic as Coach could get. "I know, I know. But we all have to take one for the team sometimes. Listen, you beat him up the wall and I'll give you an A."
"You'll pass me for the term if I climb faster than Greenburg?" I asked, slightly confused.
He smirked. "I like seeing him lose."
I tilted my head to the side before shrugging. "Okay."
What? He was pretty much telling me I wouldn't have to do gym for the rest of the term. I just had to kick ass on this wall and I'd have a nice A. Let's pray Greenburg was a slow climber.
After we had been properly strapped in, we were allowed to start climbing. I wasn't really afraid of heights but my lack of athleticism was probably going to bite me in the ass. My hands gripped a purple rock and I looked over to the left to see where Greenburg was. He wasn't next to me like he had been a few seconds ago. Resting my body against the wall, I looked down. Greenburg was barely up halfway, just relaxing there.
"You're gonna let me win?" I asked. This was more confusing then Finstock's deal. Then again, he did hate him. Okay, so it was more confusing than the giant lizard.
"No," he called up, a smug smile on his face. "I just have a nice view."
I cocked my head to the side, before following his line of vision. His eyes were staring directly at my ass, completely unabashed by the fact. I rolled my eyes, before giving him a sickly sweet smile.
"Too bad you have to see it through all those stars," I told him.
He furrowed his brow. "What stars?"
"The ones you'll be seeing once I knock you off this wall," I said in a saccharine voice.
Without another word, I moved my right leg down and stomped down on his hand. He pulled his hand out from under my sneaker in pain and ultimately lost his balance on the wall. He fell backwards, the rope catching him right before he hit ground.
The class burst into a raucous laughter as he hit the mat. All the while I scampered to the top and kicked off. When my feet touched the ground, I unbelted myself from the death trap wall and grinned. I looked down at Greenburg with a pout that could have given Lydia a run for her money.
"Oops."
I skipped back into line and made my way to a chuckling Stiles. He put his arm around my waist and hugged me from the side.
"Nice job Bradley," he grinned.
I laughed. "I try," I said pushing a back a few hairs that had fallen out of my ponytail.
"I don't really blame him though," he mused. "You look cute in those shorts."
I rolled my eyes and smacked him on the arm. "Pervert."
"It was a compliment!" Stiles said, rubbing his arm like it actually hurt. I rolled my eyes again.
"Uh, Stilinski! Erica!" Finstock called out. "You're up!"
My boyfriend gave me on last smile before awkwardly jogging to the wall. Trailing behind him was Erica Reyes. She was a quiet blonde girl who I was pretty sure was in my chemistry class. She didn't really tend to talk to anyone, kind of like Isaac. She had a look of despair on her face as if this was the most difficult and strenuous thing in the world. I didn't blame her.
Not even a minute passed and Stiles was already kicking off down to the mat. He beamed and pumped both fists in the air, looking adorably nerdy in his horribly mismatched clothes. Erica, however, was still up on the wall, and it didn't look like she was going anywhere anytime soon. My smile fell into a frown as her body began quivering and cries soon followed. And it was then that I remembered that Erica had been epileptic from the time we started going to school together and that she was prone to seizures. Crap.
Almost everyone reacted instantly and Coach rushed forward. I went to stand beside Stiles, Allison and Lydia trailing after me.
"Erica, you dizzy?" Coach called to the most likely frightened girl. "Is it vertigo?"
I raised an eyebrow and Lydia rolled her eyes. "Vertigo is dysfunction of the vestibular system of the inner ear," the strawberry blonde sassed. "She's just freaking out."
"Way to be sensitive, Lydia," I muttered, before looking at Finstock.
"Erica!" Coach called out, ignoring both of us.
The blonde girl made no sudden move to vacate the wall. "I'm fine, she called out." She was definitely far from fine.
I cringed slightly. "Coach maybe it's not safe for her to be up there. You know she's epileptic."
He looked at me like I had grown three heads. "What? Why doesn't anyone tell me these things? Uh...Erica, you're fine! Just, just kick off from the wall. There's...there's a mat to catch you!"
We all waited in silence as her hand finally detached from the rocks she had been clinging to for dear life. She dropped to the ground, landing on both her feet. She quickly unhooked herself and pushed her way through the crowd.
I looked after her sadly as the crowd of people near us began laughing at her.
"What a freak," I heard one person say quietly.
I narrowed my eyes. "Hey!" People quieted and turned to face me. "Shut up!"
It was safe to say that no one laughed.
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STILES POV
"What do you mean tonight's not a good idea?" I asked, tugging my shirt over my head. Scott shrugged before opening his locker.
He better have a freaking good reason for this. I'm giving Boyd fifty bucks for the keys to the rink. Well, twenty, if my plan goes well. Scott and I were planning on taking Allison and Carson ice skating. And now, apparently it wasn't a good idea. How in holy hell was that not a good idea?
"I don't know. Just... thing that we saw last night, the fact that it broke into Carson's house, Isaac missing, Allison's grandfather. All that stuff happening with Derek...I just...it doesn't feel right."
He's joking right?
"No," I replied while attempting at getting my sweatshirt to look normal. "You're not backing out. You wanna know why? Because you and Allison are obviously having a very good time together. And you know who else wants to have a good time? Stiles. Stiles wants to have a good time. Many, many times. Several times, in a row. In several different positions. With my girlfriend who somehow actually enjoys when we make—are you even listening to me?"
Seriously, I was going on and on about my sad, nonexistent sex life. The least he could do is listen. But he wasn't. Instead, he was staring down at his hands, which were shaking.
I raised an eyebrow. "Wh-what is that?"
"I-I don't know," Scott muttered. His head snapped up, locking eyes with the door. "But I think we're about to find out."
Without another word, he started towards the door. I yanked the neck of my sweatshirt again and stumbled to go after him. He pushed through the locker room door, shoving some other kids out of the way.
The lights in the gym were all out except one. The single light in the middle shone down like a spotlight on the rock wall. There was someone climbing on it. A head of frizzy blonde hair and a gray sweatshirt and pants. Erica.
Scott and I kind of stood there for a second until we noticed that she was shaking. She wasn't stuck on the wall again. She was having a seizure. Scott instantly raced forward, his arms jutting out in front of him. I raced after him, coming up behind him. Erica lost grip on the plastic rocks and landed perfectly in Scott's arm. He immediately collapsed to the ground with her and laid her down.
I slid in next to him and I could hear footfall behind us over the sound of Erica gasping and thrashing. Someone landed on the other side of Scott.
"On her side, put her on her side," Carson said frantically, helping Scott do as such. She looked behind her calling out, "Someone call an ambulance!"
A couple people already had their phones out and were typing quickly.
She turned back to us and helped brush the hair out of Erica's face. "How did you know?" she asked quietly.
"I don't know," Scott replied quietly. "I just did."
Even though the answer didn't fully make sense, it didn't really matter. Nothing seemed to make sense anymore anyways.
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CARSON POV
"Where the hell are we going? I just want to sit down and eat," I whined at Stiles as he dragged me between lunch tables.
He threw a shrug my way. "I just have to get these keys and then you can eat all the lunch you want, okay?"
I furrowed my brow. "Keys, what keys?"
"It's a surprise," he grinned over his shoulder, while leading us to one of the back tables.
He looked around like there was going to be someone watching him and quickly slid across from a slightly familiar kid. I raised an eyebrow but nonetheless took the seat next to him. Across from us was a boy, presumably our age. He had a bag of Doritos open in front of him and a frown covering his dark complexion. Well, the frown seemed mostly directed at my boyfriend. He shot a small smile at me.
"You know Boyd right?" Stiles asked me.
I raised an eyebrow, racking my brain for the name. "Don't you sit next to me in geometry?"
Boyd nodded.
"Cool," Stiles said, clapping his hands together. "Everyone knows each other. Do you have the keys?"
Boyd simply reached under the table and produced a set of keys hanging of the key-ring dangling from his finger. Stiles grinned and grabbed them, pulling them towards us. There was a slight struggle as Body kept his grip. Stiles tugged some more, but ultimately Boyd won out. He had some pretty big arms and they looked mostly muscle, so it was kind of inevitable.
"This isn't a favor," he stated. "It's a transaction."
Stiles sighed, but let go. "Right yeah. Absolutely." He reached into the pockets of his pants and slapped a twenty dollar bill on the table.
Boyd took one look at it and frowned. "I said fifty."
Fifty dollars to borrow some keys? What the hell? Did they start the Hogwarts Express or something?
"Really? I remember twenty. I don't know. I have a really good verbal memory and I remember twenty," my boyfriend rambled, obviously lying. "I remember that distinctive twa sound. Twa-enty."
"I said fifty. With a fuh sound. Hear the difference? If you can't I could demonstrate some other words with the fuh sound," Boyd snapped.
I stifled some giggles as Stiles sighed. "Uh, no. No, I think I'm recalling it. Maybe I just got it confused with...fuh-orty," Stiles tried, slipping another twenty out of his pocket.
Boyd didn't say anything, just pulled out a Dorito and popped it in his mouth. Damn I would kill for one of those right now.
"Come on man," Stiles relented with a groan. "Have you seen the piece of crap jeep I drive?"
"Have you seen the piece of crap bus I take?" Boyd retorted.
I groaned. "Have you seen the idiot of a boyfriend I have to deal with?"
Stiles merely gasped in faux shock while Boyd grinned. I sighed, before yanking the two twenty's out off Stiles' hand. He let out a small whine as I rolled my eyes, digging through my bag to produce an additional ten dollars. I handed it to Boyd who grinned. He held up the hand with the keys and I smiled.
"Thank you," I replied. I turned toward my boyfriend. "You, up, now, go!"
Stiles scrambled and got out of his seat quickly. I pushed on his shoulder leading him away from the table and to where Scott was sitting. "You didn't have to give him the money, I almost had him at forty."
I rolled my eyes. "Yeah, well now you owe me ten dollars for the mental anguish I just endured," I muttered, slipping in the seat across from Scott.
"Did you get the keys?" Scott asked as we sat. Stiles nodded and I rolled my eyes.
"He means I got them," I muttered, reaching across and stealing a fry from Scott.
Stiles shook his head. "Whatever. So I'll pick you up right after work and we'll go to the rink, cool?"
"Okay, what the hell is going on?" I asked, clearly confused.
Scott shrugged. "Just go home with Allison today, she'll fill you in."
"That still doesn't tell me where—sweet baby Jesus, what is that?"
As the words were let out of my mouth, the entire cafeteria seemed to turn their attention to the double doors. A pair of long legs exposed by a skirt so short it could pass for a belt came into view. The legs belonged to a sultry blonde, who seemed to strut in her heels like she was on the runway. Her smoky eyes cast over all of us and she seemed to smirk in our direction.
I looked over at Stiles and Scott who seemed a little too interested when she leaned over some poor freshman, practically causing him a heart attack when she bit into his apple. I whacked Stiles on the arm who immediately jolted in his seat and faced me.
"No I wasn't looking," he rambled. "Definitely wasn't looking."
I rolled my eyes when two hands planted themselves on our table. Lydia's green eyes narrowed in confusion. "What...the holy hell...is that?"
Something seemed to click in Scott's expression and his eyes widened. "It's Erica."
My eyes widened more so than his as I did a double take at the girl. There was no way in hell that that was Erica Reyes. But the more I stared at her, the more I recognized her. It was fairly hard, considering her hair was no longer resembling a lions mane and she was wearing bright red lipstick.
Erica strutted out and Scott and Stiles stood immediately. They started out towards the doorway and grabbed their bags. I scrambled for my stuff, plucking the water bottle off Scott's tray. I called a goodbye over my shoulder to a confused Lydia as I jogged after Stiles and Scott.
I caught up with them fairly quickly, just as they were racing down a small set of stairs. We sprinted towards the door, pushing them open. The sunlight from the parking lot streamed in. At the bottom of the stairs, the newly remade Erica grinned at us. She slid into the car and gave us one last smirk through the window. My heart lurched in my chest as I realized it was the Camaro and that Derek was occupying the driver's seat.
As he peeled off, the three of us shared a look. We all knew what this meant. Changing Isaac was a surprise to all of us. But now Erica? Derek wasn't changing people to save them, like we thought.
He was making an army.
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