𝟎𝟏𝟏 lunatic.

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lunatic.



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"WHAT ARE YOU DOING HERE?" Charlie asks, standing in front of Paxton as she holds a clipboard against her chest.

The day had gone by relatively fast for her after skipping the first three classes. They showed up late to lunch, nearly skipping it altogether if they weren't starving. Going into the cafeteria would risk Scott seeing Allison. By the time they had gotten there, she was too deep in conversation with Lydia to notice them sitting at the table furthest away.

Now that school was over, the only risk of seeing her again would be at the lacrosse practice.

Paxton wanted to talk to Allison before the practice but with Coach nearly catching her and the boys putting his stolen belongings away, her schedule filled her time up. Talking to Allison would have to be pushed off for another time. Coach assumed she had been outside of the locker room to ask him for a position as his assistant. It was the last thing she wanted, she already despised yearbook. When cross-country season starts again, she knows she'll quit it too. She had commitment issues, a flaw left on her after her mother left.

Along with the commitment issues, she also hated most of the players on the team. Charlie ruined her perception on the meathead players when she joined him in going to their parties. Not that there was much to ruin, she knew they were egotistical and jacked with testosterone.

"Hello? What are you doing here?" Charlie asks again, snapping his fingers in front of her face to get her attention back from the daze she's in.

She blinks away her thoughts as the team hurry around the tight space, grabbing their equipment or changing into their jersey's. "What?" she asks, not really noticing him. "Right, Coach—"

A whistle deafens her beside them. "All right, geniuses, listen up!" Coach shouts, despite the entire team standing in front of him. He had made his dramatic entrance by bursting out of his office. "Little Bridger here, is going to be assisting me, to help manage you imbeciles."

One of the guy's whistles at her causing Coach's face to redden. She uses her new clipboard to cover her smile. The board had been thrown at her by Coach the second she reported for duty. He didn't provide anything else, no paper, no pencil. He told her it would make her look 'cooler'.

"Suicides for whoever just did that and Greenberg, put a shirt on. Now, thanks to the recent pinkeye epidemic, thank you Greenberg, the following people have made first line on a probationary basis, emphasis on the word 'probationary'. Rodriguez, Taylor, and, uh.. For the love of crap. I can't even read my own writing," he hands the paper over to Paxton, "what-what is that, an 'S'? N-No, that's not an 'S'. That's a.."

Paxton holds back her growing smile, carefully glancing to Stiles and Scott as they sit on a bench in front of them. She wants to watch his face light up when Coach says the news.

"That's a 'B'," Coach says with slight shock. Paxton's eyes narrow wondering if Coach was either illiterate or just needs better handwriting. She watches as a defeated Stiles slouches beside Scott. "It's definitely a 'B'. Uh, Rodriguez, Taylor, and.. Bilinski."

Stiles turns his head to Coach, his eyes wide with disbelief. He hops from his seat, cheering for himself. Paxton laughs as he shouts. She covers her mouth, looking away as he foolishly throws his hands in the air.

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