Bête Noire \\ Stilinski

\\ 02 \\

        Kennedy parked her car outside of Devenford Prep, unbuckled with the engine already off. The blonde fastened her black crossover tie and when she reached for the file, she couldn't bring herself to ignore its contents.

The manila file was opened by hesitant, maroon painted nails. Kennedy pulled her bottom lip between her teeth, touching the profile pictures paper clipped to the inside of the folder. It was his sophomore school photo, but multiple from his crime scene were inside.

Ken flipped through, each page consisting of a victim of her brother's. She knew them all by name; every single one.

Finally sighing once she saw her name on the acquitted suspects list, Kennedy shut the file and slid it into her backpack. She took the bag with her, climbing out of her Jeep with more than enough time to get to class.

The Tuesday morning was warm, early October in California not feeling anything close to cold. Campus was abuzz as usual, students in plaid meeting with their friends before the bell.

Kennedy walked up in low heels, them strapped over knee high socks, not stopping to talk to any of the many groups formed. She went up the school steps, glancing over to the cluster of off season lacrosse players.

Brett ran a hand through his hair, catching Kennedy. He smiled lightly, giving a soft wave.

Kennedy returned the wave before disappearing into the prestigious high school. She dodged a few links of students and managed to make it to her locker without getting shoved or shoving someone else.

"Why do you seem stressed?"

Ken didn't need to look over to know Brett had come up to her locker. "All my classes are AP. How could I not be stressed?"

Although Brett and Kennedy had broken up in August, they were still on good terms.

Brett, with a black sweater vest on that was required for all boys, wasn't buying it. "Nothing else?" he asked with a tone that practically shouted that she was lying.

"Nothing else," replied Kennedy falsely as she switched out books and binders.

Brett's eyes flickered to her bag, smelling something uncommon for Kennedy since April. "Why did you go to the police station?"

Kennedy barely hesitated as she removed her AP Bio III textbook from the depths of her backpack, the manila file just behind it. She, however, was aware of a certain...talent Brett had. "My dad asked me to go," she lightly said before slipping her bag back over her shoulder.

Brett's eyebrows lifted, "What does the General need from the Beacon police station?"

She held her Bio III book in her arms after shutting her locker, looking to Brett. "What do you think?" she asked without anger.

Without any emotion at all, really.

The tall boy understood immediately, backing off a little. "Did he say why?"

"I would've been surprised if he had." Kennedy started walking with Brett, hugging her book to her chest absently. "No, he just wants me to send it to him. He's working with the Navy for some bizarre reason and he didn't really give me a choice about picking up the file for him."

"Sounds like he hasn't changed at all," commented Brett. Able to rise a smile on Kennedy, it caused him to smile too. "Hey, Ken?"

Stopping with Brett outside her homeroom, she gave him an attentive look. "Hm?"

"Are you still having those nightmares?"

Although she didn't respond right away, the answer was laced in her hesitance.