11

                                    

                                          
Stiles
After three days, high school has finally reopened. Not that anyone is particularly happy about the fact, especially not me. School means six hours of pretending, of keeping a secret that could cost me my friendship. My pack. My life. 
It is first period, and I have managed to avoid Scott for three days straight. That streak ended the second he walked into class. Now, he sits behind me, tapping his pencil on his desk. Unrhythmically, I might add. It's taking everything in me to keep Void from jumping out and smashing that pencil across our knee.
Who would have known; the evil fox spirit has a weakness for perfection. 
There are a lot of thing I have learned about him, one being that he really, really likes chocolate. Only milk chocolate, though, not dark. And he also has it set into his mind that white chocolate IS NOT chocolate. Emphasis on the 'is not', in case you missed it.
It isn't. I will stand by that until the day we die. 
Shut up. I'm trying to focus. 
No, you're not. You were thinking about chocolate. 
Now I'm trying to focus. 
No you're not. You're still thinking about chocolate.
Only because you keep mentioning it! 
He fights a grin. Okay, I'll stop, but... he stops. Stiles, the answer is 34 and 22. He says,  finally going silent. 
"Stiles? Will you answer question 5 for me?" The teacher calls on me, I look up, trying to find the question on the board. 
Without checking to see if what Void gave me is correct, I answer. "x equals 34, and y equals 22."
"Very good, Stiles." She smiles, "I'm impressed," with that, she turns, writing the numbers I gave on the board with white chalk. 
Thanks. I tell Void, He smirks.
Add those two numbers together, that will be the about of control you owe me, in minutes.
What! That's almost an hour! 
Yes, but at least you didn't look like an idiot in front of your class. Fair?
I stop myself from groaning, Scott already thinks something is off, I don't need to add to that list. Fair. I reply, scribbling down the last homework question before the bell goes off. 
I have been dreading lunchtime since the moment I woke up. With every second that goes by, the twisting of my gut becomes more and more unbearable. My Second period class passes all too fast, leaving me staring at the clock, as if I could stop time for the last few minutes and just disappear. Coach wants us on the field for a half hour practice before our last two classes. 
A practice with Scott, Liam, and Kira.
As soon as I step onto the field, Scott is at my side. 
"We need to talk." He says, not bothering to lower his voice. I look down at him, meeting his eyes. Neither of us have our equipment on, not for lunch practices. Which also means I am not wearing cleats to change my height. I could have sworn the last time I saw him he had been taller than me. Now, I'm a least few centimeters ahead of him. Have I gotten taller? 
Yes, Stiles. Yes you have. 
"About what?" I start making my way off the sidelines
"You know what. You've been avoiding me all day."