7 | numb

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But, that moment end soon enough when Stella felt a tap on her shoulder, she turned around to see someone that she didn't thought would go speak to her.

The girl immediately got up trying to mask that small felling of emptiness inside of her, rolling her eyes to seem like the company of the boy was unwanted she asked, "What do you want?" He snorted at her, "What do I want? To see if you wanted company," Isaac said walking down Beacon Hills High hallways with the Argent, she opened her mouth to speak but her quikly cut her off, "I know that you make everyone think that you are all thougth and without fellings or whatever but you ain't fooling me."

She rolled her eyes, "And what makes you think that?" She asked slightly curious that he was into her, he turned to her making her stop her own tracks, "Because of that day, I was back in the bank. I could only hear your voice, and it was like we connected. So, deep down you care." He smiled in the end and she squinted her eyes, he looked into his blue eyes and then looked at his scarf, "What's up with the scarf?" He raised his eyebrown, "Nothing is up with my scarf."

"Every single time I've seem you, you were always with a freaking scarf." She pointed out, Isaac was about to reply when both of them felt a tap over their shoulders, "What is happening in this small gap between you both?" A voice that Stella was now very familiar with asked, "We are talking about Isaac's scarf." Stiles looked at the scarf, "Yeah, he was weird taste in fashion."

"Yeah, I've notice." Stella raised both of her eyebrows and the school bell rang, "See you later Stelly." Isaac said leaving making her groan, "WHAT THE HELL IS THAT?" She yelled so Isaac could hear her from far, completly forgeting that he was a werewolf, "Stelly. What the actual fuck?" She mumble gaining a snort from Stilinski.

Both of them walked towards the boys and girls locker room for cross country that was next, "Where's Scott?" Stella asked wondering why was Stiles with her and not Scott, "Mhm, I think he's already getting dressed. Why didn't you come the the first classes this morning?" He bluntly asked her, "Mhm, I was just tired, and did not feel like being the hell hole that is school." She stated, both of them already near of the locker rooms doors, "We got news about the whole killing thing." Stiles told her.

Stella was thinking that his behavior has extremely weird today, but what was even worse was that fact that she was enjoying spending time with him, "Oh, really, what?" Stella said extremly fast trying to get the though of actually liking this whole friend thing with Stiles, "That its most probably sacrifices and that so far they were all virgins."

Stella stoped her nodding for a small fration of seconds there, "Wait, why virgins?" The pale boy shoke his head, "I have no idea, maybe the killer liked Madonna?" The brunette but her botton lip trying not to laugh in front of him, but in inside she was cracking up because of the Madonna joke, "Well, if its virgins I have no worries." Stella comment swinging the locker door open, "Wai- what?" Stiles stopped and looked at her in shock.

She just laughed, "I'm joking, do you think any guy would come, even near, the creppy girl that is way too sarcastic?" She asked expecting no answer in return, so what happened next suprised her, "I don't see why not, you are- err- actually, cool, when we get to know you." Stiles said awkwardly leaving to the boy's room leaving Stella shocked, but slightly blushed.

×××

She waited for the Coach's to left them go, and looked at Scott "What is it?" She asked knowing that he was focus on something, "Its Isaac." He motion to the boy a few feets head of them, "THREE, TWO, ONE. GO, GO, FAST!" Coach said and everyone started running but Isaac, both Scott and Stella ran towards him, "Isaac, what's wrong?!" Stella asked a little but worried of how frusterated and angry Isaac seemed, he looked out of control, "Its them." He said talking about the twins and with those words he took off and Scott followed him leaving Stella standing there.

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