Adderall.
That's what Sheriff Stilinski thought when his son came bustling down the stairs as he walked in the house, having just interviewed Isaac Lahey and his father.
"Hi dad." Stiles said, too busy worrying about cereals and milk. The sheriff eyed the grandfather clock and saw that his son was running late. "You're running late." He noted.
"I couldn't sleep last night." Stiles admitted. Suddenly, the mood sobered up as the reality of current events hit the both of them. This brought the sheriff's mind back to this mind and the lead that he had going for him. "Have, you, uh found anything?"
"We haven't found Lydia." Stilinski answered the question Stiles hadn't asked. "But could you do me a favour?"
At the prospect of being involved in the investigation, Stiles' attention rose and his eyes brightened. "Sure dad, what's up?"
Sheriff Stilinski took a deep breath, knowing his words could have a bigger impact than they attended.
Hence why he'd spent a good part of the morning thinking them over.
And the better of the last two years.
"There's this girl. Spanish. Dark hair and green eyes. Goes by the name of Violeta Rodriguez."
Stiles' mind immediately thought of Reese's Peanut Butter Cups and the white Nike sneakers that contrasted against the rest of black clothes she had been wearing. Yes, she.
Even Stiles hadn't realised she was of the female gender the first time he saw her at Kenny's Comic shop. Violeta Rodriguez had been playing Pac Man and was wearing a red bandana in her hair. She had gotten the top score because Kenny gave her a free banana milkshake afterwards. When she left, Stiles went to the machine and checked the leaderboard. He then realised she'd won all the top places and entered her names to spell out SAVE FERRIS BUELLE— except there wasn't any space left for the 'R.'
The reference still wasn't lost on him.
Had he not been deathly terrified of her or her... gang, he might've said something to her. Might've.
Probably... not.
Definitely not.
Look, she was undeniably gorgeous once you, you know, realised she was a girl.
Even as a boy, like, she might've been like one of those pretty boys—
"Stiles?" His father prompted him out of rapid thoughts concerning her.
"Yeah, I know her." Stiles finally said, clearing his throat. "Ah, why do you ask?"
"Are you two close?"
"I, uh, I wouldn't say close. She goes to Kenny's and—"
"Yeah I know." His father said. Stiles blinked, surprised at the information his father knew about the girl. However, he didn't say anything since it was not an unknown fact that his dad had run ins with the a few of her relatives. Stiles idly wondered if that included her also?
"Is there, uh, something you need?" Stiles asked. Surely there was if his dad was asking him. Especially about her.
"If you can," His dad sighed and stopped, he looked at his son and Stiles suddenly saw the weight on his father's shoulders, "can you ask her to contact me. I need to ask her a few things."
Now, Stiles had to ask. "Is she..."
"She's not in trouble." Stilinski immediately dismissed his son's thoughts. "I just... do you know anything about Isaac Lahey?"
Stiles frowned. "Who?"
His father grimaced. "He's on the team. In fact, don't you guys have an early morning practice?"
"No..." Stiles said, his voice going up as he thought about it. No. No, he didn't. Yeah, he was sure. Then he noted his father's forlorn expression and bubbled up, "Don't worry, I'll, uh, talk to her. It'll be fine. I'll even see if I can find Isaiah."
"Isaac." His father corrected.
"Right." Stiles snapped his fingers into a thumbs up. "Well I gotta go, bye dad!" The sheriff watched his son leave, worrying about getting Stiles involved with someone like Violeta. Still, seeing the fear Isaac quaked in his father's presence... it was undeniable. But the law system didn't work out that way. He needed evidence. Which meant he needed Violeta. Besides, it could help get Stiles' mind off Lydia Martin for a while.
Or, at least, he said this to reassure himself.
The brooding, however, was interrupted by Stiles running back into the house, yelling something about actually having practice this morning.
-
In following one of her many grandmother's rules, the 'being observant' discipline had lead Violeta to learn that when she had frees, the boy's had lacrosse training. That meant she had frees first period today. That was something she had always skipped out on since frees meant the gym and she did not really want to wake up and exercise. However, Mario had come this morning to drop off some packages and mentioned that a liver had been stolen at the cemetery last night. That had meant two things: one, Isaac had been at the scene of the crime and two, Lydia Martin's head was probably going to have a bigger target on it.
So she had to go to school this morning.
With a sigh, she got out of bed. She didn't even bother to change out of her clothes, having just plopped onto her old mattress in the clothes from last night. Aunt Tomei was cooking eggs and had the radio on. The morning paper with the crossword half filled was spread out on the kitchen table. "How's ma?"
"She's alright." Violeta said, rubbing her eyes. She pulled a mug and filled it with coffee. "Still speaking like Yoda."
"That's Maria for you." Tomei said with a fond voice. It wasn't lost on anyone that Tomei related to Abuela more than any other relatives - besides the fact that it was Maria. Her name - something most people thought Italian upon hearing - brought some comfort to the one Sicilian living amongst Spaniards and Latinos and Catalans. That if someone to respected, the person of highest authority, had an Italian name... well, Tomei didn't feel as much as a foreigner when Maria was around.
"You don't know how happy you listening to her makes her." Tomei said.
"I know." Violeta did. Her mother was supposed to be next line. However, her mother had died. Thus, it fell on Violeta to catch up on everything before Abuela died. Especially since Aunt Tomei wasn't actually a direct part of the family. Tomei was Italian, just like her name. Violeta's grandfather had just adopted a girl on his travel's to Sicily. Tomei was the family name of his childhood best friend, so he bestowed it to her. Hence how Violeta's father ended up with a Sicilian sister. Hence how Tomei can't be next in line. Hence how it was all on Violeta.
"I'm surprised you're going to school."
"A friend is about to be pulled into the soberdenatural." When speaking about it, Violeta opted to use the Spanish equivalent of supernatural. sounded a lot less... serious to refer to all the largely-all werewolf business like that. Less real. No one from her 'English world' would openly discuss things relating to the supernatural. And soberdenatural just sounded funnier.
Violeta's family had lived in Madrid, Spain for so many years and were known for still speaking the older Judeo-Spanish known as Ladino which, outside the Rodriguez family, was only spoken spoken by a small Jewish population in Turkey today. Ladino preserves an older form of Spanish from about 500 years ago before major sound changes took place.
Or so, Violeta was constantly reminded.
Living in Beacon Hills, a town which wasn't known for its diversity, the minority of ethnic groups tended to band together and so Violeta had learnt, over the many years, to become accustomed to the many, many, many dialects so that her own became a weird sort of mixture.
For example, soderdenatural was something she had picked up from a Mexican friend who often came to down Kenny's.
"A friend?" Tomei asked, frowning at Violeta's words. "I thought Stiles already was."
"Not Stiles." Violeta said, bringing the cup to drink— and bringing it back down. "And how do you know Stiles? We're not friends."
"Abuela told me you're going to marry him." Tomei said with a smirk. Violeta was then glad she didn't take a sip of her drink for she probably would've spat it out at that. "Apparently you two talk about him a lot."
"We don't."
"I also heard you mumble his name in your sleep."
"That - this is ridiculous." Violeta said, shields going up. "I'm not friends with Stiles and you and abuela need to stop gossiping like old women."
"You're getting awfully defensive." Tomei teased. Violeta loudly huffed and gave up on the coffee, chucking the half full mug into the sink and causing it to loudly bang. She moved around the kitchen table and promptly left the house, causing the door to slam after her.
The morning air hit her, literally hitting the anger out of her. Just like the realisation of how stupid she was being hit her. She took a deep breath and held it and then let it out. Yes, Stiles was the 'adorkable' person whom piqued Violeta's interest because, well, he was interesting. He was both very confident whilst also oh, so awkward. His sarcasm and wit was something that always made her want to laugh... but she couldn't because she wasn't friends with him. She never spoke to him. She never even acknowledged him. Just like he never acknowledged her. He was always too busy speaking to Scott with rapid, gesticulative hand motions. Or fawning over Lydia. Or getting in trouble by his father. It was fun to watch... but she could never actively participate in any of it.
Why? Because she was Violeta Rodriguez. Someone who has to walk back into the house with their head down as they mutter an apology for their outburst and kiss their aunt on the head because she snapped for no reason whatsoever. She was someone who wasn't very normal and wouldn't be good for him.
"I can't be friends with him." Violeta said. Her aunt gave her a sad look but said nothing. It was for the best. Instead, she just patted her niece's arm, her way of offering reassurance; and showing that she was forgiven. Violeta then moved back to her room and got ready to go to school.
-
"Stiles what are we doing here?"
Here in question was the school gym. It was a place frequented by the people who liked to stay in shape but thought they were too cool to be in the lacrosse team or play any of the school sports. So, in essence, the gym was for the people who hung around the edges of the social hierarchy of the school. These were the people who were intimidating for even the werewolf. Scott had noticed a few people from here whom he had seen before in the stoner den, and then when Stiles stalked past a guy who was tying his shoelaces, Scott recognised Luis, the senior as the guy everyone went to DJ... if you had enough guts to ask. And Luis thought you were cool enough to have him DJ for you.
"My dad asked me to speak to Violeta Rodriguez."
"Violeta Rodriguez?" Scott asked. He had seen her around but he didn't know her too well. He doubt he's ever even spoken directly to her but her locker was near his and he's seen her more often than not struggle with the lock or the door and start swearing in, what sounded like, rapid Spanish. She was someone who he could imagine to be at the gym on the pure basis that she wasn't... a social butterfly. She wasn't scary but the constant black and the fact a lot of the people in her social circle were scary made her not the most approachable person in the world. When he thought about it, she sat alone surrounded by people. As in, there were her cousins and family members - the ones who actually went to school - all congregated around the table in the far corner... but she sat by herself on the edge, earphones usually in as she didn't talk or look at anyone.
'Me holla respect, to all the gun men dem. Gun men alone, keep gun men friend. Fire bun, fi all the informer dem. Informer lone keep informer friend...' He heard the music blasting from headphones, the rap beat sounding very old school. He could hedge a guess and say Biggie Smalls from the voice that followed but what song or what album or anything? Nah, that was lost on him.
The music came from the earphones of the girl Scott was just thinking about and the one Stiles was apparently here to find. She was bench pressing an amount that Scott was honestly surprised someone of her stature could lift. Stiles awkwardly stood there, apparently finally realising how out of place they were. Scott gave him a look as Stiles gave a smile and wave to another student who walked past, staring at them and their lacrosse uniforms. Well, more like glaring.
She finished her set and continued to lay down. Scott could sense that she finally picked up that there were people there and she sat up, looking cautious. She pulled her headphones down to hang around her neck as she looked at both of them warily, lingering on Stiles more.
"Can I help youse?" She asked, raising an eyebrow.
"Hey and yes, I'm Stiles this is Scott."
"I know."
Scott blinked at her response. His suspicion piqued at how she knew who he was and suddenly became defensive, taking a step forward. "How?"
She stared at him deadpanningly for a second. Then she rolled her eyes and took a sip from her bottle. "You're Co-Captain of the lacrosse team and you're in my Spanish, Chemistry and English class." Scott's defence died down as he suddenly became sheepish.
"Oh, uh..."
"How do you know me?" Stiles asked. Violeta stood up from the bench, taking a sip. It was then that it became apparent that she was dressed in track pants and a crop-top, her toned stomach on display. Scott noted his friend gulping.
"You're Stiles." She said simply. "Which means you're here only for a reason. What do you want?"
"I, uh, you-uh" Stiles stumbled before he cleared his throat. "You're friends with Isaac Lahey." He stated.
"I know him, yes."
"What do you know about him?"
"Why do you ask?"
"My father does." Stiles said. It was then that there was a very obvious shift in Violeta's demeanour. She blinked and she became defensive and her eyes shone with emotion. She exhaled heavily and she sat back down. She pulled a towel and began wiping the sweat off of her. She zipped open her bag and looked for her hoodie. After putting it on, Stiles' patience wore thin. "Well, what do you know?"
"Who says I do?"
"It's obvious you do." Scott finally chimed in.
Violeta sucked on her lips before standing up, not liking having them stare down at her. She squared her shoulders as she looked at the werewolf. "Isaac Lahey has been playing lacrosse since freshman year. Why haven't you ever spoken to him? Hm? If he's in your team you'd think you'd know him better than the reclusive Spaniard who doesn't speak to anyone?" Her sardonic sarcasm was received well and clear.
"I didn't say..." Scott began.
"You didn't need to." She said. She exhaled again and then looked into the brown eyes of Stiles Stilinski. "You want answers? They're not mine to give. But hey, tell your dad Jackson might know."
"Why would Jackson know?" Stiles asked.
"Since he lives across from the Laheys." Violeta bent down to gather her things, not thinking she could be in the gym anymore after Stiles and Scott coming in here. She'd get too many looks and she couldn't be bothered with that. It was as she was packing her bag that her phone flashed and her the wallpaper of her grandma smiling shined up at her. It was then that everything Abuela had taught her thus far came out and pushed Violeta to say the next words.
"Instead of focusing on this and that, it'd be nice to check up on each other. Then you'd understand how Isaac has a bruise despite being benched." Then she turned to Scott, "You'd all be stronger that way." She then left the shocked teens standing there in the gym as she walked out. She heard the bustling steps after her so she made sure to go through people and lose them amongst the hubble of students. She then found the bathroom and locked herself in a stall to think about what the actual fuck she had just done.
-
"Ms. Rodriguez, I'm glad you could've joined us." Mr. Harris greeted with a paper in her face as she walked into class. Late. It wasn't that she had anything to do; it was just that she had to avoid Scott and Stiles for as long as she could think of what to do next. Right now, she was very close to being pulled into the soberdenatural— which was something she couldn't do.
Not yet, anyway.
She was not going to voluntarily put herself until her grandmother's funeral where the obligation was most prominent because another unforeseen threat had come which could only be taken care of by her and thus she had to act. It was only until it was have to that Violeta would have her debutante ball. Until then, she would sit in bathroom stalls and avoid dynamic duos.
Especially the ones who where very obviously whispering about her until she arrived in the class. Even if she hadn't had the ability of advanced hearing, Stiles hunched over and Scott's leaned back positions along with the shocked looks they gave her was obvious to any moron. How they two managed to not alert everyone of Scott being a werewolf and the problems that had ensued was honest to God beyond her.
"This is a pop quiz Mr. Stilinski." Harris barked out after Stiles had failed to whisper about the potential next time of Lydia taking a body part from someone alive. It made Violeta want to laugh, the dramatic irony of her knowing things that others didn't. If Lydia was a banshee, there was no way she'd be eating any human flesh. Violeta hoped.
However, in stating that, it made her even more worried because then owed the notion on there being another, unknown creature that was eating human flesh. One that even Violeta didn't know of. However, she couldn't dwell on that because she had a series of questions in front of her that needed answering.
There was some more muttering as her hand scribbled across the paper. It was Stiles and Scott until then it was Harris.
"If I hear your voice again," Harris said, "I may be tempted to give you detention for the rest of your high school career."
"... Can you do that?" Stiles asked, the shock horror evident. Violeta forced herself to not look back to see if his mouth was agape, only permitting a small smile before returning to focus on the pop quiz which made her question who came up with the syllabus.
Oh, right. Harris.
"There it is again." The teacher in question said as Violeta finished up the equation to the last question, "Your voice. Triggering the only impulse I've ever had to strike a student repeatedly and violently." It was at this that Violeta couldn't let it go and had to look back. Especially since she just heard the laughter from Jackson and Danny. "See you at three for detention." Harris finished.
There was silence for a moment and the silence began to drag out and Violeta couldn't believe that had just happened and no one was saying anything. There was no whispers; only mild laughter and poof that was it. Even thought Harris had just about threatened a student.
"You can't say that." She blurted. Mr. Harris had it out for Stiles and Scott, yes, but this was crossing a line. Even though she knew that as soon as the words were out of her mouth, she would no longer be held in the same view, that she would no longer be that Spanish chick who dressed like 90s rappers and had cousins who were in a gang and was a recluse. She would be noticed.
"I can and I just did." Harris replied.
"And would you still say that if his father was standing here?" Violeta said. This caused a few hushed whispers since everybody knew who Stiles' dad was. "You can't say that to students. You've literally just threatened a student, you realise that?"
"I don't need a delinquent criticising my teaching methods." Harris said. "Now, you may either leave or sit silently and not attempt the quiz I know you know nothing about."
Violeta's hand curled into a fist under the table. She exhaled and placed a fake smile on her face. "I'm actually finished."
"Really? And who's lyrics is it this time? Tupack or is it your Eminem?" She rolled her eyes at Harris' comments, never having ever written any of the white rapper's lyrics down.
Still, her smile grew upon seeing Harris' smirk fall as he saw her work. He then looked up at her and then back at the paper. He moved back to his desk with her paper and then began checking it for the answers. Violeta knew too well that no one else was doing their quiz but waiting to see the outcome of her own. Harris then looked up and smirked.
"The last question is wrong. You applied the wrong theory."
"I applied the only theory that would bring about a substantiated result since the one you wished for us to use has long since been disproven to be false."
"No, it hasn't."
"Yes it has. Harvard released a thesis document on the theory two months ago." She pulled out her phone and tapped on it a few times. She held it out for him. "Here you go." Harris glared and came round to read from the phone screen. "You'll note at the bottom the recommendation to apply the formula I used since it would provide adequate results that could still lead a discussion about the potentialities of the chemical reaction." She pulled the phone out his hand. "I record everything and listen to it later when I study so that I can double-check because I am a delinquent and I am criticising your teaching methods." Violeta stood up from her seat. "Now if you don't mind, I have to show today's class recording to the police as I file a report of student harassment." Just as Violeta was about to walk out the door, she turned back and looked at Harris up and down.
"Oh, and here we pronounce it Tupuc."
Then she slammed the door after her.
"Woah! Yeah!" She heard Stiles call out from inside and start clapping until he stopped as everyone else was silent. "No? Okay." He quieted down.
"I'll see you at three, Stilinski."
-
"Harris said that?'
"He's got it out for your son since you sort of fucked with his dealings."
"I didn't..." Sheriff Stilinski trailed off, obviously not going to repeat the curse word. And unable to say that he didn't cause he sort of did. "Look, I appreciate you speaking out for Stiles."
"And I appreciate you not getting Stiles to be your owl."
"I didn't think you'd want to talk to me since I locked up Eddie." Stilinski said, speaking of what happened last week in regards to one of the guys getting arrested for carrying an unlicensed weapon. Violeta didn't really know him, only knew his reputation. It would've made any of the guys down at Kenny's skin crawl to know the shit Eddie did behind closed doors.
"If you didn't arrest him and seize his gun he probably would've killed his girlfriend and her parents. And God knows what the fuck he'd do to his daughter if those rumours were true... The guy was fucking insane." Violeta said with a huff. "I'm not mad."
"I understand that our... arrangement puts you in difficult situations." Stilinski said. "But I do appreciate it."
"Don't make me sound like a snitch. You know the reasons why I'm helping you." Violeta said, vehemence clear in her voice. She took a steading breath, closing her eyes and rubbing her temple. "Look, sheriff, you don't know the shit that I go through. I don't care if he's your fucking son. The only way you know Violeta Rodriguez is because she's a delinquent related to the low-gang activity you've got yourself here in Beacon Hills." And that you one day pulled up to my house to tried to explain to a 10 year old Violeta that her parents were killed.
"Well Stiles told me that you said I should ask Jackson."
"You should."
"But..." Stilinski prompted, knowing her well enough.
"He'll tell you shit. He's a pompous asshole who— look, fuck, I know what you're thinking and there's no point going there. Believe me when I say that."
The sheriff sighed. When it came to these situations, Violeta knew better than him. Broken homes, domestic violence, drugs— these were things he'd never personally experienced and could only navigate as a man with a badge. That didn't necessarily make the situations better. This was usually when he called Bernie Mac and Bernie would tell him what to do.
And right now, Bernie Mac was telling him to leave the Lahey's alone.
"Well what am I supposed to do?" Stilinski asked. "I can't just ignore a poor boy—"
"Yes you can cause you've got other shit to worry about right now. You're a positive person, aren't you. Just think of, like, how justice always triumphs or whatever."
The sheriff just laughed on the other end. It was a sad laugh, one that was somewhat forced and you could was very half-hearted.
She took that as her cue to hang up.
Violeta looked at her phone and cleared her call history. She had called Noah on his own private cell, hiding her caller ID. She didn't have his number saved — only knowing the digits by memory. Still, she knew it wasn't enough and she could easily get caught. One could only imagine how betrayed everyone would feel... that she gone to the other side of white cops who don't care what happens in the gutters and the poor side of town. There would be word to jump her, she'd be banished and shamed and all of her cousins - every single of one them - would deny relations to her.
Screwed doesn't even cover it.
Yet she still continues to be the Batman for the sheriff.
Violeta walked back into school, going down the corridors to where her locker was. As always, her phone felt red hot and she wanted to ditch it in her locker. Even if just for a few hours. But all thoughts of that disappeared when she saw the werewolf staring at Allison who was trying her damn hardest to not break down crying.
"No, not her sister. Her aunt. The one who murdered all those people."
Don't do it.
Don't do it.
Don't do it.
Violeta went to her locker and all but broke her lock as she jammed it open, not even bothering to put her combination in. She threw her stuff into her locker and glanced across the corridor at Allison. The girl's shoulders were visibly shaking.
Don't do it.
Don't do it.
"You mean the crazy bitch who killed all those people."
Don't do it.
Don't do it.
Violeta closed the door to her locker and leaned her forehead against the cool metal. So far today she had given a lead about Isaac's personal life, spoken against Harris in defence for Stiles, had one of those risky calls to Noah and now this? She only joked about being Batman because there was no way she could be a hero— in any sense.
But she couldn't actually believe no one was doing shit. That these girls were standing there, looking at Allison and loudly speaking against her like this. Yes, Violeta was quiet so people tended to forget about her. They would forget that she was there as she overheard the hushed whispers and remarks made after the person was left. She overheard the passing over rumours, the fake greetings and the true bitchiness. But right in front the person. Like, from what she knew, Kate Argent was not a nice person. Suffice to say, she was bitch.
But Allison wasn't.
Like, not really. And it was her aunt. An aunt who's funeral was in the coming days or something.
Like, fuck, at least try say shit on the down low, not in front of the damn person.
Don't do it.
"Yeah. The fire, all those animal attacks, it was her aunt."
Don't do it.
"Are you kidding? I sit next to her in English."
Don't d— "Fuck it." She was not going to do nothing; that would equate her to all others. Violeta held the strap of her backpack as she made a big show of walking over and leaning against Allison's locker, in between her and that guy with the camera.
Allison froze, obviously aware of who Violeta was and her reputation. The fact that they were not friends and she was standing so close to her also probably shocked her. Yet Violeta held her ground, leaning her back against the locker next to Allison's, a foot propped up against the back of it, arms crossed as the stared at the two girls.
The two girls who were silent since Violeta entered the picture.
There weren't many times where Violeta enjoyed her rep. She probably could count all the times it had benefited her on one hand. This was one of those times.
"What are you looking at?" One of them had the audacity to ask.
"I just can't believe you sit next to Allison Argent in English is all." Violeta could feel Allison's shoulders deflate again. "Like, I'm scared for the poor girl, isn't your mother a crack whore?" The girl blinked in shock, obviously taken aback even more by how Violeta knew this.
You see, this was a very, very, very rare time where knowing too much came handy.
"Hey, don't go talking about her ma!" The other girl came to defend her friend's honour.
"Then don't go talking about her aunt. Otherwise I'll go around talking about how you sucked your uncle's dick."
"How- you don't know that!" The girl all but screeched in a hushed voice, looking around to see if anyone heard.
"Oh, but I do. I know a lot. You forget where my circles are and you forget who I am. Give me five minutes and I will destroy your pathetic ass lives."
"Are you threatening me?" One of them asked, taking a step forward.
"No. This conversation never happened. You never said anything because you don't know anything. Isn't that right Allison?" Violeta asked, looking at the girl by her side.
"Nope." She said, putting a fake smile on her face. A ghost of a smile came on Violeta's own face at how strong this girl was. She gave her the props for getting her drift so easily.
Violeta then swore under her breath in something Allison Argent swore wasn't English. Allison frowned, thinking of the translation with her limited Spanish from class but couldn't make it out.
"You right?" Violeta asked, looking back at her. Allison nodded and her gaze fell onto the dress once more. Violeta frowned and could sense emotion coming. Emotion that would require comfort. Luckily, she spied Scott over Allison's shoulder. He'd be better at this than her, anyway. Threatening someone was one thing, comforting them was another.
"Come on. Follow me." Allison grabbed the dress and slammed the locker shut as she followed Violeta. She lead her into a classroom where Scott was. Violeta moved to sit in a desk, pulling out her phone as Scott went to his girlfriend.
Allison all but broke down upon seeing Scott as Scott tried to comfort her and Violeta suddenly felt like she was watching a telenovela with her grandma. "Come on, there's no Peter... nothing of that sort." Violeta resisted the urge to smile at Scott's words. Oh, boy, if only you knew.
"I can't go on like this."
Scott was silent, not really having anything to say at that. Violeta sighed, feeling like this might be something she would have to console. "You're going to a funeral. You're supposed to cry there." Violeta cringed at how un-comforting the words sounds. Scott rubbed Allison's cheek so at least there was the physical comfort going good.
"Thank you for before." Allison said, looking solemnly at Violeta.
"Hey man, I'm just full Batman-ing today apparently." She said with a grim smile, the double meaning lost on them.
"Stiles called his dad." Scott said. "He's-"
"Nuh-uh. Don't talk to me like I'm a part of your gang. I did some good deeds today. Good. My grandma will feel some relief that I'm not a total recluse and there's still a chance my soul may go to heaven."
"Okay but I want to talk to you." Scott said.
"Don't I feel popular. We'll catch up for some high tea later, I have detention to get to." Violeta said. And with that, she left the emptied classroom and one clichéd supernatural/human mixed race Romeo and Juliet-esque couple behind. Violeta sighed, wondering how that shit was going to go down. Romeo and Juliet was a fucking tragedy and people often forgot that.
People died.
The loved up couple included.
And Violeta could only hope that these two teenagers in love weren't so stupid to end up with the same fate.
-
"What are you doing here?"
"Detention."
"You don't have detention."
"Oh but I do you see I'm a delinquent and delinquent's apparently go tp things like detention. Because they deserve it." Her last words were aimed at Stiles who didn't deserve the detention and was staring at her with both wide eyes and wide mouth since she entered the room.
"I haven't issued you a detention." Harris tried again.
She looked to her side where a bunch of beakers sat. With a swipe of her hand, they all fell smashing to the floor. "I have detention now." She moved with her bag to the desk across from Stiles. She propped her feet up and stared at Harris. "Oh, and you might want to get someone to check because I may have seen some broken glass on the floor next to the door way. Safety hazard that I'm pretty sure is in your duty of care as an educator and supervisor of students to ensure that safety hazard is taken care of."
Harris placed his palms on his desk as he loudly exhaled, standing up and walking out the door.
Not before greasing her off.
As soon as Harris was out the door, Stiles turned in his seat to stare at her. "Who are you?" He demanded.
"Batman." She replied, then brought her bag up on the table and decided to catch up on some sleep. She was a light sleeper so if Harris did anything to the boy next to her, she'd be up and ready soon enough.
She was just about going to fall asleep when Stiles spoke up.
"You can't."
"Hmm?" She said, lifting her head and an arm up so that she could rest her elbow on the table to prop her head up.
"You can't be Batman." He said.
"Why not? Because I am a girl?" She asked, smirking since at least half of the people at the school were probably under the assumption that she was a boy.
"No." He said, sounding like a five year old.
"Then why?"
Stiles hadn't looked at her once. The entire time this conversation had played out, he'd been playing with the ends of his spiral binder. He pursed his lips and then said, sounding like a child once more, "because I'm... Bat...man."
"Okay." Violeta said. Stiles looked up at her. She smiled and pulled her hoodie down, "You're Batman."
Harris arrived back with a duster. He slammed it down on the desk in front of him and then called out her name. "Rodriguez! Since you made this mess, you will clean it."
"I'm afraid I can't, sir." She said in a tired, careless voice.
"And why not?"
"That duster looks dusty and I have allergies and if I were to sneeze while dusting, I might cut myself and Stiles here is really squeamish about blood." Harris looked at the boy next to her who stammered now that the spotlight was thrown onto him.
"Yeah, uh, she's, um, she's right. Very squeamish. Might even throw up."
"And I'm a sympathetic vomiter." Violeta jumped in, a smile growing on her face.
"So you'd have two students vomiting under you care." Stiles chimed in, making her smile grow more and more.
"-who wouldn't be able to clean it up because they would vomit even more." She added on.
"So you would have to clean up all that vomit and find a bandaid and the glass." Stiles said.
"While filling out paperwork no doubt."
"Because Violeta here cut herself." Stiles said.
"And caused Stiles here to vomit at the blood."
"So it's best if you just clean it." They both finished at the same time.
"I weep for the future." Harris said before bobbing down to clean up the glass. Stiles held out his hand and Violeta stared at it for a long moment before sighing and allowing herself this one. She high-fived him and tried to not smile and show how happy it made her.