While walking through the halls, Stiles said, "I just talked to my dad, who just talked to Jackson, and I've got really terrible, horrible, very, very bad news."

Scott replied, "I think I already know."

Stiles frowned. "All right, I only found one thing online called a kanima. It's a werejaguar from South America that goes after murderers."

Maggie narrowed her eyes. "That thing was definitely not a jaguar."

Stiles shot her a look. "Yeah, and I'm not exactly a murderer."

"What's that supposed to mean?"

"I... Never mind. Poor comparison."

"No kidding."

Scott looked between them. "Okay, guys. Don't argue. Yeah, but did you two see it kill somebody, which is probably why it tried to kill you two. And it's still trying to kill you two, and it probably won't stop until the two of you are dead."

Stiles glanced to Maggie, then to Scott and said, "You know, sometimes I really begin to question this friendship."

During Economics, Maggie sat behind Stiles, and Jackson took the empty seat behind Scott. "Hey, testicle left and right. What the hell is a kanima?"

Coach entered the room. "All right, listen to me. A quick warning before we begin our review. Some of you, like McCall, might want to start their own study groups, because tomorrow's midterm is so profoundly difficult -- I'm not even too sure I could pass it. Okay, I need a volunteer at the board to answer the first question. Who's got it, huh? Come on, let's go, buddy."

"Paralyzed from the neck down," Jackson continued. "Do you have any idea what that feels like?"

Stiles exchanged a look with Maggie. "She and I are familiar with the sensation."

Scott frowned. "Wait -- why would Derek test you? Why would he think that it's you?"

Jackson shrugged. "How should I know?"

Maggie glanced at Lydia to see her writing something down. "Hang on. Are they thinking it's Lydia?"

Jackson met her eyes. "I don't know. All I heard was her name and something about Chemistry."

"Jackson!" Coach cried. "Do you have something you want to share with the rest of the class?"

"Um -- just an undying admiration for my coach."

Coach gave him a sarcastic smile. "That's really kind of you. Now shut up! Shut it! Anybody else?"

"How do we know it's not her?" Scott asked in a quieter tone.

Stiles let out a sigh. "Because I looked into the eyes of that thing, okay? And what I saw was pure evil. And when I look into Lydia's eyes, I only see 50% evil. All right, maybe 60. You know, but no more than 40 on a good day."

Maggie huffed and rolled her eyes as Scott said, "Stiles, that's not a very good argument."

Stiles turned to Scott. "I'm aware of that, but I swear it's not her. It can't be, all right? Lydia's fine."

"Lydia," Coach said, calling her attention.

She turned around to face the class as tears filled her eyes. Maggie frowned at what Lydia had written. Coach couldn't read it. "Okay then, anybody else want to try answering? This time in English?"

Scott frowned. "What is that, Greek?"

Maggie shot her friend a look. "No, it's not Greek."

Stiles held up his phone. "No, actually, I think it is English." The words revealed, SOMEBODY HELP ME.

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