𝐯𝐞𝐫𝐝𝐚𝐧𝐭 ▷ 𝐬. 𝐬𝐭𝐢𝐥𝐢𝐧𝐬𝐤𝐢 ✓

𝟑𝟖. 𝐚𝐟𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝐡𝐨𝐮𝐫𝐬

CHAPTER THIRTY-EIGHT
after hours

YASMINE MCCALL

I did not know to say or how to feel, whatsoever. Part of me felt enraged, almost hurt, that Lydia had been there, but a different part of me also knew that I was severely overthinking and that the beautiful full moon was probably also affecting my emotions. Nevertheless, that did not stop from me from marching down the darkened street in anger, my hands balled into his fists and my lips pressed into a hard line as my hair whipped around my face due to the cold wind.

Lydia had never been to Stiles' house and I knew that before maybe a few months ago, she had absolutely no idea who he was. That girl was always caught up in Jackson and so she never noticed anything else around her, but just as I felt maybe, just maybe, Stiles and I could be developing in our relationship with each other, it is suddenly all about her again.

I did not want to be jealous, but I was. I had been jealous the day I found out that Jackson had subsequently left me for my best friend, I had been jealous the first time I saw them together, I had been jealous when Stiles first began talking to Lydia after having spent years having a crush on her, and I was jealous that she had made here before me. The fact that she had made it to my best friend's house just after he was kidnapped hurt me, yet somehow managed to make me feel like the worst friend out there.

Everything was hitting me at once and as much as I wanted to just curl up in a ball and isolate myself from the world, I could not. Because like it or not, I knew the only way we would ever beat Gerard and fix whatever was happening to Jackson was together, all of us working in unison. Seeing Peter had hurt me and Lord knows all I wanted to do was hug him yet I wanted to beat him for not finding me the second he somehow revived, which was a completely different factor. How the hell had Peter managed to come back to life, when I saw Derek slice his throat with my very eyes?

That night still haunted me and just as I was somewhat beginning to overcome what I had seen and experienced that night, Peter showed back up with everyone acting as if he had not returned from the literal dead.

Standing still in the middle of the street, I looked around only to see that I was completely alone. Whatever street I had ended up standing on was empty and although I could see lights inside the houses, I took a deep breath and leaned my head back. Surprising even myself, I let out the cry of frustration that had been building up inside of me for days, if not weeks. I could almost sense people looking at me from the comfort of their homes, but nothing stopped me as I stared at the moon, screaming until my throat closed in and my entire mind went blank.

_

"Did you seriously just do that?"

I could see Scott and Isaac both jump once again, their heads whipping over to look in my direction as I walked out from behind the black car, my hands clasped behind my back as I stared down at the body bag on the solid ground, which contained Jackson's body.

Scott let out a sigh of relief and I saw Isaac do the same, his eyes widened as he stared at me. "Don't ever do that again, Yas," he insisted as I stopped right in front of the body bag.

Crossing my arms over my chest, I arched a brow at my brother, cocking my head to the side. "Scott, you dropped his damn body before I approached you."

Isaac opened his mouth to say something but all three of us were blinded by the sharp lights from an unknown car shining directly at us as the car drove in our direction. My heart began beating significantly faster when I seemed to realize that we probably looked insanely guilty and very criminal standing next to a body bag in the hospital's parking lot in the middle of the night.