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Arabella's POV:

Fortunately for me, I had managed to scam my way out of chemistry, meaning I had a free preiod where I didn't have to listen to Harris ramble on. I was walking through the hallway, wandering aimlessly before I felt a somewhat tight grip on my wrist.

"Bella!"

"Stiles?" I asked, turning my head to meet his face. Both of our eyes widened as he realised he had just dragged me backwards, landing on his lap. "Well hello to you too." I giggled, standing up and taking the empty seat beside Scott as Stiles visibly gulped. "At least take me on a date first. Care to explain what I've been dragged into this time?"

Stiles gestured for Scott to explain, the tanned boy leaning his head towards me slightly to minimise the chances of people hearing.

"Issac Lahey was the wolf in the locker room. He almost shifted on the field before the cops took him away. Stiles said they're keeping him in the holding cell until they figure out of he had anything to do with his dad's murder."

"Holding cell?!" I half whisper yelled, "On a full moon?"

Scott nodded as I continued to think out loud. "Why are we outside the principal's office?"

"Jackson's in there, He's Issac's neighbour and therefore a witness. Scott was going to listen in to hear what he tells them." Stiles chimed as I rolled my eyes, leaning my head back against the wall as I too listened in to the conversation in the room behind me.

"So you're telling me you knew Issac's father was hitting him?"

With a tone laced with poison, Jackson replied, as if it was completely obvious. "Hitting him? He was kicking the crap out of him."

"Did you ever say anything to anyone? A teacher, parents, anyone?"

"Nope. It's not my problem."

My blood was beginning to boil. "Unbelievable. Prick." I spat out under my breath, shaking my head slightly. Me and Issac weren't exactly close, exchanging words in classes from time to time, but still, how could Jackson brush something like this off so easily?

"No, no of course not. You know it's funny that the kids getting beaten up are always the ones that least deserve it."

Smirking almost triumphantly, I continued to listen in. And that comment alone proves the theory that Sheriff Stilinski is an icon.

"Yeah, wait what?"

"I think we're done here."

Frantically picking up the nearest magazine, Stiles attempted to go unnoticed by his father as he stepped out of the room. Obviously it was unsuccessful, making an amused expression grace my features as Noah looked at the boys poor attempt in almost disbelief.

"Hi, Scott. Arabella." He smiled before walking down the corridor with his deputies, shaking his head as he thought about Stiles' awful attempt.

"Boys." Another voice rang out from beside us. "And girl."

There he stood, a white striped shirt and a deep brown blazer.

Gerard.

He was our principal? Really?

"Come on in."

The three of us sat in his office, facing his desk as he resided opposite us, looking through our profiles.

"Scott McCall. Accademically not the most accomplished, but I see you've become quite the star athlete." There's no way he knows about him? right?

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