all hers | tara carpenter x fem!reader

part 18

You make it to the school in the passenger seat of Sam's car without speaking the entire journey.

You feel hollow. Like the world is crumbling around you, and Sam must feel it too. Her grip on the wheel is tight, sturdy, like she knows exactly what she has to do now.

What you both have to do now.

Get him. Kill him. For Tara.

Mindy's waiting outside the school when you pull up.

She peers into the backseat, looking for Tara, looking a little confused when she can find her.

"Where's Tara?" Mindy asks.

Sam brushes her off.

"Change of plan. Tara isn't coming. It's just us."

Mindy's eyes widen.

"Sam," She says, voice slow. Her eyes dart to you, "We can't do this without Tara."

"Tara isn't coming," Sam stresses, "And we need to do this. For Tara, do you understand?"

Mindy blinks. She fidgets with her phone.

"I'm going to call her first and check." She eyes you, no doubt terrified of the consequence if something were to happen to you. Tara isn't shy about her love for you, and she certainly isn't shy about what would happen to anyone who ever hurt you.

"She's been arrested," You say, voice impatient, "She won't pick up. The only way to help her is to catch this guy."

Mindy gawps.

"She's been arrested?"

"There's no time," Sam says, urgently, "Mindy, come on. YN, go to detention."

She puts her hands on your shoulders, squeezes tight.

"And good luck."

-

The plan is so stupidly simple, yet there are about a hundred ways it can go wrong.

You run through them on your way to detention, mind whirling, barely having the strength to put one foot in front of the other.

Firstly, the band of so-called Ghost-face protectors is possibly the worst collaboration of people in the entire school to do the job. Chad's a meathead. Liv, his ditzy companion. Mindy is all ludicrous theories and useless horror film knowledge, and you're either so small or so weak your hundred pound, five foot one girlfriend can put you on your back without so much as breaking a sweat.

Your only saving grace, it seems, is Sam.

You'd left her with Mindy, shotgun in hand, dressed in a tank top and a pair of old ripped jeans, looking very much like she's about to rip through a horde of zombies, rather than take on a single Ghostface.

The only bright side to this awful situation is you no longer have to worry about Tara at the end of Ghostface's knife. But the alternative - Tara locked in a jail cell for the rest of her life, is almost as bad.

Principal Garcia greets you, looking very much like he'd rather be anywhere else on his Saturday off. Sam had called ahead about Tara and he either doesn't care, or can't be bothered to ask how she is.

Instead, he sits at the front of the classroom, peering down at a newspaper through his spectacles as you settle into the front desk, nervously tapping your foot against the ground.

Your eyes draw to the clock on the wall.

The quiet click. The sound of Principal Garcia flipping his newspaper every now and then. Your heart is in your throat and it's pounding so loud it drowns out almost everything else.