The Tell

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"Did they forget my curly fries?" Sheriff Stilinski asked Stiles as he sat in the driver's seat of a police car.

"You're not supposed to eat fries, especially the curly ones." Stiles told him from the passenger seat.

"Well, I'm carrying a lethal weapon." The sheriff pointed out. "So if I want some curly fries, I will have some curly fries."

Stiles stood his ground. "If you think getting rid of contractions in all of your sentences makes your argument more legitimate, you are wrong."

The sheriff gave him an annoyed expression while Stiles smirked with victory, stuffing the curly fries in his mouth.

"Soon enough, we'll have to take you off the curly fries." I told him from the back seat.

Let me explain why I'm here. My parents were finally coming home tomorrow but ever since the bus driver got attacked by an 'animal', they've requested that the Stilinskis keep a closer eye on me. Meaning that if I'm not at home or at school, I'm with one of them.

Currently, we are in Mr. Stilinski's police car enjoying some take out. I'm enjoying a burger while Stiles continued to stuff fries into his face.

"Unit one, do you copy?" The dispatcher says over the police radio.

Stiles goes to reach for the device and his dad stops him, giving him the 'back-up' look.

"Sorry." Stiles mumbled before going back to his fries.

"Unit one, copy." The sheriff says and waits for a response.

I eat my burger while listening intently.

"Got a report of a possible 187."

Stiles suddenly shot up, curly fries hanging out of his mouth, wide eyed.

"A murder?!" He exclaims, though it was very muffled due to the food in his mouth.

I scrunch my face in disgust. "Please finish your food before I have to throw up mine."

We drove to the scene, which was a movie rental shop. I looked over Stiles shoulder to see Lydia sitting on the back edge of ambulance while Jackson yelled at another police officer.

"Oh gosh." I grumble.

Mr. Stilinski unbuckled and looked at Stiles as he was about to get up as well. "Stay here."

Stiles hesitantly sat back down as his dad exited the car. I watched as he walked up to where Jackson was. My blood boiled when Jackson channeled his anger onto him, but I was very impressed on how the sheriff kept his cool. I would've slapped that empty skull off his shoulders if I was in his position.

Jackson was yelling fairly loudly, as we could hear anything he was saying.

"No, you don't understand, which blows my mind since it should be a pretty basic concept to grasp for a minimum wage rent-a-cop like you. Okay, I wanna go home!" He yelled at the Sheriff.

At this point, I've had it, and I could tell Stiles has had it as well. He opened his door and stood up, pointing to a group of people wheeling around a stretch-out bed.

"Woah, is that a dead body?" He shouted.

This got everyone's attention, and Jackson finally shut his pie hole. The sheriff looked at Stiles with a look that said 'I'm gonna kill you'.

"I swear, if I ever get the chance, I'm gonna blow out whatever brains that jerk has left in him." I seethed through my teeth.

Stiles sighed in agreement. He sat back down and stared at Lydia. A part of me wanted him to stop and pay attention to me, but he wanted to see that she was okay, and I can't blame him for that.

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