Stiles's Arc

Chapter 2 of 20

Stiles barely makes it to his locker before Scott catches up. Kira is with him. Lydia walks in from the other hall, jaw set. They box him in against the metal. Stiles knows that look. He's been dodging it for weeks. "Talk," Lydia says. "Now." Scott's voice is quieter. "You've been off all morning. You were off yesterday. Whatever it is, just tell us." Kira nods beside him, hands twisted in her sleeves. Stiles's fingers go to his jacket pocket on instinct. The coin is in there. So is a folded photo from the board, edges soft from handling — a wound shot, the gap circled in red pen. He brought it to school. He doesn't even remember deciding to. He pulls the photo halfway out. His mouth opens. Six people, he wants to say. Six, and the wounds match, and there's one that doesn't, and something left a coin on my pillow. The words pile up behind his teeth. A whistle cuts the hall. Coach is already yelling before he reaches them. "Stilinski! McCall! Game in twenty, you're not dressed, move your feet!" He claps once, loud, and points at the locker room. Stiles shoves the photo back down. Lydia's eyes track the motion. She saw. He knows she saw. "After the game," Scott says. Not a question. Stiles nods because he has to. He turns toward the locker room with the coin heavy in one pocket and the photo heavier in the other, and behind him Lydia is already pulling out her phone, typing fast.