Chapter 2
"Beacon Hills High," Stiles said as we got out of his jeep.
Have I ever mentioned how much of a piece of crap that thing is?
"The school of teachers who are out to get us, supernatural students, teenagers with high sex drives, and uh- what else?" He asked, looking over at his best friend, Scott.
We walked towards the huge school. "Accidents." Scott answered. "Yes—Accidents. Lots and lots of accidents." Stiles says.
"Thanks for ruining all of my high hopes for this school." I said, sarcastically smiling at the two boys.
"No problem." Stiles smiled.
"So what class do I have first?" I asked them. "You have Chemistry."
"But, we don't have that class with you, so you're on your own for 45 minutes." Scott tells me.
"Good. I don't think I can spend another 5 minutes with you guys." I laughed.
Stiles and Scott both put their hands on their hearts, pretending to be hurt.
"But the good news is, you have that class with Isaac." Scott sings. "Really?" I asked.
"Yep." Stiles answered. "You like him, don't you?"
"Maybe. I mean, I did love him at one point in my life." I pointed out.
"Whatever." Stiles rolled his eyes as we got inside of the school.
"Chemistry is class 306. Your locker is number 413. Stiles and I gotta get to class. See you later, alligator." Scott says as him as Stiles walked off.
I walked to locker 413. I realized something. I don't know my combination. Ugh!
Well, being the person I am, I probably wrote it down somewhere, right?
The first place I looked was my phone. Of course I have it on my phone. I looked in my notes and Yesss! I found it.
It said: Locker Combo: 13, 30, 15
I quickly put in my combination and put some stuff into my locker. On the side of it, I saw pictures of some people I knew.
I saw Lydia, Stiles, Scott, and Allison. There was a picture of me and Isaac kissing, which made me blush.
I saw a picture of me standing next to a girl with blonde hair an a guy with dark skin. Who were those people?
I had a picture of my dad standing next to a lady and Stiles when he was a baby. (I knew it was Stiles because he looks the exact same)
I also saw a picture of my dad standing next to another lady and me when I was a baby. Who are these ladies?
Packing my locker and also filling my backpack, I heard people talking and "whispering" to each other.
"Isn't that Alex?" Someone said. "The girl that lost her memory?"
Should I turn around and say something? No, I don't want to say something I'll regret.
"Poor girl, she probably doesn't even remember her boyfriend." I heard a girl say. Why would they care if I remembered my boyfriend or not?
"Oh, Isaac? He's super hot. I'm planning to ask him out later. I'm sure Alex won't mind. She probably won't remember anyways." They giggled.
I slammed my locker shut and stomped to my Chemistry class. I was angry. Furious. Although I might not remember Isaac, that doesn't really give them the right to try to move in on him like that.
I want Isaac. I think. There was a point in my life when I loved him, and he still loves me.
Why should I care if some girl wants him? He loves me, only me.
Am I jealous?
I'm over thinking this.
I walked to Chemistry. Room 306.
I walked into the class to see a teacher with dark brown eyes and jet black hair. He had on glasses and wrote something on the white board. I don't know him, but he seems kind.
I saw one empty seat next to a guy. He was pretty hot. He was smoking hot. He had on sunglasses.
Isaac was sitting behind me. He looked pissed off, but I didn't want to get into his business. I turned around and he waved at me and I waved back.
The teacher wrote on the board "Mr. Harris."
"Most of you may know this already," Mr. Harris starts. "But there's one student in here that doesn't. And it's not like I want to do this, honestly, I couldn't care less." He adds
Did he just? He did not. He's so rude.
"But my name is Mr. Harris. And I'm here to ruin all of your lives." He smiled. "Let's just hope you don't ruin mine first—oh wait, you already have."
Why is this guy so butt hurt? Who pissed in his cornflakes this morning?
As Mr. Harris got into his lesson, the cute boy besides me started talking. "Hey." He looked at me and smiled. He had perfect teeth, light brown eyes, brown hair. He was absolutely good looking.
"Hi." I smiled slightly. "I don't want to sound rude or anything, but do I know you? Maybe I do, but I wouldn't know 'cause of the loss of memory thing." I asked him.
"Yeah, you do know me. You know me well. We're really close friends. I can't believe you don't remember me." He says. He had glasses on but took them off when he spoke.
"Well maybe I'll remember you if you tell me your name."
"Dylan." "Dylan?" I asked. "Yep." He smiles. "Cute name." "Thanks." Dylan winked at me. I blushed a little. Why would a guy that hot wink at me?
Just then, a folded piece of paper flew onto my desk. I looked in the direction it came from to see Isaac. He was mouthing the words, "open it" while making hand motions.
"Okay, okay." I mouthed back, turning to the paper. I opened it up. It read: "Check Your Phone."
I crumbled up the paper and took my phone out, placing it inside of the desk.
I had a message from Isaac, of course.
From Isaac:
Why are you talking to him
To Isaac:
Because he's friendly and really hot
From Isaac:
Are you serious? Do you not remember what he did?
To Isaac:
😑😑😑Is this a joke? I DONT REMEMBER ANYTHING YOU NUTCASE
From Isaac:
Sorry... But don't talk to him. He's bad
To Isaac:
What did he do?
From Isaac:
I'll tell you later. JUST DONT TALK TO HIM
To Isaac:
Are you sure he really did something? Or do you not want me to talk to him because you're jealous? 🙈
From Isaac:
I'm not jealous just don't.
To Isaac:
You totally are
From Isaac:
Alex listen to me
To Isaac:
Fine I won't talk to him
I put my phone away and looked up. Mr. Harris was teaching some nonsense lesson that I wasn't paying attention to anyways.
"Alex," Dylan called from behind me. I turned to him. "Yes?" I asked. Wait- I'm not supposed to talking to him. Oh well.
"Did I ever tell you that you're really pretty?" He asked. I felt my cheeks turn red and I smiled.
"No." I heard Isaac say. "No. No. No. No." He kept repeating as he packed his things up.
"Nonononononononononono....." He says, he grabbed my arm and my bag and walked out of the room, dragging me out with him.
What the hell is his problem?