The Girl Who Knew Too Much Part 1

                                    

                                          
     Boo purred in my lap while I scratched her ears on the couch.  Dad sat in his lounger while Mom sat on the couch between us. I enjoyed  nights like these where we could just relax together and watch a movie.  It had been far too long since we last did that, and I missed them.  Sure, I saw them every day, but it wasn't the same as before.
                          
    I  always had something to do, someone to save, a mystery to solve, and it  took over my life. Of course, my parents understood that, but it didn't  keep us from missing each other. My dad didn't show it as much, but he  kept finding useless reasons to come into my room to see me whenever he  could. My mom was more forward about it, texting me she missed me and  that she loved me and wanting to know what I was up to. It got annoying  at times, but I understood why she did it.
                          
    On the mantel above  the TV, Dad's college class ring sat encased in a glass box. He was so  proud of that ring. So much so, he never even wore it except on his  wedding day. I know, men, right?
                          
    Next to that was Mom's  precious gem collection. Why she collected them and never did anything  with them, I'll never know, but they were pretty to look at. Raw and  uncut.
                          
    I yawned as the movie credits rolled and said, "I'm gunna get to bed. I love you, Mom and Dad."
                          
   "I love you, too, sweetheart," Mom said.
                          
     "Night," Dad replied, a smile on his face. He didn't say I love you  often to me, but I could taste his love for me. Love always tasted sweet  like cinnamon apples in my mouth, and it was pretty much all I could  taste around my parents.
                          
    I was just about to get into bed when  Stiles called and said Lydia had another premonition and we were going  to the school. Great, no sleep for me, then.
                          
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   Stiles' jeep and Scott's bike pulled up in front of the school at the same time. We all got out and congregated together. It was the middle of the night and I was starting to get used to the whole sleep deprivation thing. At least, if someone tried to torture me with it, I'd be practically immune. 
                          
    "Where are they?" Stiles asked.
                          
    "Over here!" Allison called, running up to us. Lydia was by her side looking frazzled, but then she saw me and her brows furrowed.
                          
    "Why are you wearing pajamas?" she asked. I looked down at my fuzzy pants rolled at the waist band since they were a little long, my white tank top (which showed just a bit of my lower stomach), and my converse, and I crossed my arms, strands of hair falling out of my lazily-thrown-up bun. I blew the pieces out of my face with a huff.
                          
    "You know what? It's the middle of the night. You're lucky I even put on a bra, okay?" I retorted. Stiles shimmied off his red and black stripped jacket and placed it around my shoulders, chuckling like he was apologizing for my inappropriate work attire. So maybe I was still having trouble with the sleep thing...
                          
    "Okay... It's the same thing as the pool. I got into the car heading somewhere totally different and ended up here. And you told me to call you if there's a dead body, so..." Lydia explained.
                          
    "You found a dead body?!" Stiles asked loudly and excitedly. 
                          
    "Not yet."
                          
    "Not yet? What do you mean not yet?" I said, a sinking feeling forming in my stomach.
                          
    "Lydia, you're supposed to call us after you find the dead body," Stiles explained.
                          
    "Oh, no. I'm not doing that again," she responded seriously. "You find the dead body from now on."
                          
    "How are we supposed to find the dead body? You're always the one finding the dead body," Stiles fought.
                          
    "Guys," Scott said, staring off at the school. "I found the dead body." I walked over to his side to see what he was seeing, and the sight made me want to home and forget about all of this. 
                          
    One of the deputies was lying face down on the Beacon Hills High School sign, her blood draining down the front of it as her arm hung over the side. Did this mean cops were next on the Darach's hitlist?
                          
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    Stiles rushed into class, flopping into his seat just as the bell rang. I looked at him with question and he waved his hand as if to say 'later'. He looked fine, so I wasn't too worried about it. 
                          
    Ms. Blake's heels clacked slowly as she walked. "Idioms, analogies, metaphors, and similes, all tools the writers use to tell their story. Lydia, I wasn't aware you had so many hidden talents." Blake smiled unhappily, and I looked over to see Lydia drawing another tree. What was with her and trees?
                          
    "You and every guy I've ever dated," Lydia smirked. 
                          
    "Oh, um, well that was an idiom, by the way." Lydia flicked her eyebrows up one before returning to her drawing, and Blake sighed, walking again. "Idioms are something of a secret to the people who know the language or the culture." Blake stopped for just a second to give me, Scott, and Stiles pointed looks. 
                          
    Why didn't she just write 'Scott and Y/N are supernatural creatures with fangs and claws' on the board? That would've been subtler. 
                          
    "They're phrases that only make sense if you know key words. Someone saying 'jump the gun' is only meaningful if you know about the starting gun in a race, or a phrase like 'seeing the whole board.'"
                          
    "Like chess," Stiles muttered, making that 'I'm thinking of something' face. 
                          
    "That's right, Stiles," Blake smiled. "Do you play?"
                          
    "Uh, no. My father does."
                          
    Blake smiled at him like she was happy someone was engaged in her lecture and continued, "Now, when does an idiom become a cliché?"
                          
    Scott leaned over once Blake had cleared our desks. He was sitting behind me, and Stiles was next to me, so it made an easy conversation.
                          
    "I think I can get to Ethan. I'm pretty sure I can make him talk," he said.
                          
    "What do you want to do that for?" I asked as Stiles slid down in his seat a bit. 
                          
    "The druids are emissaries, right? So what if the Darach was an emissary to the alphas?" 
                          
    "Okay, first of all, I cannot believe that we've gotten to the point where a sentence like 'what if the Darach was an emissary to the alphas?' actually makes sense to me. Second, we're gunna have a huge problem getting to Ethan," Stiles said.
                          
    "What's that?" Scott asked.
                          
    I sighed, puffing out my lips. "Going through Aiden."
                          
    "Ever since he's been back at school, they're always together," Stiles explained. "How are we gunna separate them again?"
                          
    Suddenly, the same idea seemed to jump into our heads simultaneously as we stared at each other. We all turned our head to look at Lydia, who was sitting behind Stiles and still drawing that dang tree. She peeked up at us, then her lips pursed as she clenched her fist.
                          
    "What now?" she asked.
                          
    "We need one tinsy-tiny favor. Get Aiden away from Ethan for like 20 minutes," I asked, smiling adorably. 
                          
    "Why do I have to do it?" Our faces dropped into a 'you know why' stare, and she huffed with annoyance. "Fine."