Clairsentience ➳ Derek Hale/Teen Wolf [2]

8. helpless

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.).

☽𓁺☾

Despite the fact that I'm already astronomically behind and have missed way too much school this semester, I make the executive decision to skip school the next day. I just know that Erica is on cloud nine now that Derek and I are broken up, and I refuse to give her the satisfaction of seeing how obvious of a mess I am. So I spend the day at home, half catching up on my lack of sleep and half catching up on missing homework assignments—which I have several of.

A glance at the clock tells me that if I were in school, I'd only be in third period right now, which seems crazy to me as I've already gotten so much done today. The hours have been passing slowly but I don't mind it one bit, contrary to my circumstances. Chemistry equations and literary essays take my mind off of Derek like a charm. Plus, the few times I have nearly bursted into tears, my brain conveniently pops up the memory of laying in bed for four days, crying over the thought of Derek being dead. This reminds me that, together or not, Derek is alive and well. This simple fact is a million times more significant than whether or not a romantic relationship was the best idea for us. That doesn't mean that this doesn't hurt, though. It does, but I can't say I didn't see it coming. Derek and I care a lot about each other but it's clear that, right now at least, we just aren't capable of making this work.

I told my mom I was staying home this morning, so around lunchtime she decided to come and check on me. I didn't tell her the real reason why, I just said I wasn't feeling well and didn't want to go. Because of this I thought I was going to be able to keep it together in front of her, but the second my bedroom door cracks open, I know it's useless. That motherly intuition kicks in and she takes one look at me and automatically turns serious. She comes in and sits next to me on my bed, running a tender hand over my hair.

"What's wrong, baby?" she asks softly.

Those words knock down the wall of logic and numbness I'd been hiding behind all morning. The tears rain down my face like a storm as she pulls me into her arms. She whispers words of comfort into my ear until I finally calm down, pulling away and sloppily wiping my cheeks dry. I can't imagine what she must be thinking right now, with everything that's happened the last few months.

"It's just boy trouble," I say before she can ask, although the term doesn't even begin to describe what my last few days have been like. Her eyes soften, and then she frowns.

"Isaac?"

At first the name is alarming. I had almost forgotten she met him when we went to the dance. I wonder what she's thinking now that he's a fugitive.

"No, Mom, just this guy."

"Does just this guy have a name?" she asks, clearly relieved it isn't Isaac. I cannot tell her I'm sulking around over Derek Hale. She'll recognize that name instantly too—especially because for a few weeks he was the main suspect for who was trying to kill us at the school a few months ago.