Clairsentience ➳ Derek Hale/Teen Wolf [2]

7. better

Disclaimer: I do NOT own any parts of Teen Wolf or its plot or characters. I do not own Derek Hale. However I do own Skylar McCall and some of the things that come along with her plot (Like Harv & Kelly's, etc.).

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     "I'm not talking to her," I tell my brother as we walk down the hallway together the next day at school. Every time I even think about what happened in the car yesterday with Derek and Erica, I get so angry I get hot. I haven't even talked to him since—if he thinks I'm going to be the first one to reach out after he acted like that, he's dead wrong. He can talk to me when he can apologize and communicate his decisions.

"At least come with me to talk to her," Scott says. "Please."

Her. Erica. I actually empathized for the girl before, but all I feel now is the urge to slap her across her face. Scott and I know that two betas (no, I still haven't told them about Jackson) isn't going to be enough for Derek. Now that we know I'm not turning, Jackson claims he didn't turn—although he isn't dead, and Lydia had no reaction to the full moon either, we know Derek is going to search for at least one more vulnerable teen to sink his teeth into.

I reluctantly agree to go with him. We find the blonde girl at her locker, fixing her makeup for probably the tenth time today. She spots our reflection in the mirror, although I'm sure with her new abilities she was able to smell us from down the hall. She turns around to face us with a smile.

"Who's next?" Scott asks calmly. She scoffs, shutting her locker and taking a step closer to us. Her new wardrobe is ridiculous. How does one go from wearing baggy clothes everyday to wearing skinny jeans and push-up bras and shirts that hardly cover the chest?

"Why does there have to be a next when we've already got you?" she asks, approaching him. She gives him those big flirty eyes, surrounded by a thick layer of black liner. So she has a thing for my boyfriend and my brother. Great.

"Who's next?" I demand more urgently. She quirks an eyebrow.

"You know I never knew what I looked like during a seizure until someone took a video of me once. Put it online," she says, jutting her dark bottom lip out in a pout.

"We don't care," Scott snarls.

"It happened during class. I started seizing in my desk and everyone was saying how they should put something in my mouth, until some genius reads the card on my key ring which tells them not to 'cause it could break my teeth." Her words become more aggressive.

"Erica."

"Do you know what happens next?" she whimpers. "I pissed myself. And they start laughing. You know, the only good thing about seizures was that I never remembered them. Until some brilliant jerk-off had to go and put cameras in everyone's phone." She's now got Scott against the lockers, pressing herself against him. I stand there with my jaw set, resisting the urge to put my hands on her. With Gerard as our principal, if things were to get out of hand, I can't risk exposure.