As the lines between good and evil were blurred and new, unlikely alliances were formed, there were very few things keeping Carson Bradley sane. But sometimes, even sanity was not enough to win a war when there was already so much blood raining down...
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CHAPTER SIX WHY NOT BREAD CRUMBS?
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"Why would Derek choose Isaac?" I whispered to Scott and Stiles. "I mean, I know he needs a pack and everything, but Isaac?"
We were seated in chemistry class, for once, Harris putting his attention somewhere that wasn't us. He had already broken his yelling record, spending at least ten minutes lecturing me on why I couldn't sit with my boyfriend and best friend. I responded to each of his claims with what I thought was a pretty good argument. In the end he gave up and I was able to keep my stool scooted to the edge of the granite countertop.
It was only a few periods after this morning's fiasco. Word had already gotten around that Mr. Lahey had been murdered and that Isaac was the main suspect. People who didn't know him had already begun making up stories about the mysterious teen, while the ones that did, well there weren't many of them to begin with. And while everyone else was concerned as to why Isaac might have offed his dad, we musketeers were wondering why the hell he was offered the bit.
"Peter told us that if the bite doesn't turn you, it could kill you," Stiles replied and I nodded. "Maybe teenagers have a better chance of surviving."
"Doesn't being a teenager mean your dad can't hold him?" Scott questioned, bringing us back to the important topic: a newbie werewolf on his first full moon, surrounded by defenseless cops.
Stiles shook his head. "Not unless they have a lot of evidence. Or a witness," he muttered taking a look around and then spinning himself in Danny's direction. "Hey, Danny! Where's Jackson?"
"In the office," Danny replied. "Talking to your dad." He looked back down at his work, leaving no room for other questions.
"Why the hell is my dad talking to Jackson?" Stiles asked as he turned back to us.
I shrugged, looking down at my notebook. "Maybe because Jackson and Isaac live across the street from each other?"
Two sets of eyes snapped up to look at me. Stiles grabbed my wrist, causing me to look up confused. "What?" they exclaimed quietly.
"Yeah, uh, I used to see Isaac and his dad sometimes when I went over Jackson's. Why is that—don't tell me he's a witness?"
Could Jackson have actually witnessed what had happened to poor Mr. Lahey? Why would he have not said anything to the police? And then I remembered it was Jackson we were talking about? Jackson didn't do anything morally correct, even if someone's life had been on the line.
"We got to get to the principal's office," Stiles muttered to the both of us.
