Don't Take Yourself So Seriously

Chemistry was bad. All the problems made no sense, and adding elements just made them harder. Kinsey stared at her blank sheet that should have been filled with formulas. Danny's sheet was perfectly finished in neat handwriting.

"What does barium have to do with this?! I thought we were talking about water," Kinsey said, taking Danny's notebook. Danny gave a short chuckle.

"I copied from someone else. Want the answers?"

"Nah, I need to learn this for the test." Another minute passed by before Kinsey even registered one thing on the paper.

With a squeak of the classroom door, Mr. Harris pranced in. He tried to display an air of elegance Kinsey found ridiculous. It was as if he thought being a teacher earned him the same respect as a pimp. He was her least favorite teacher, for several reasons.

"Student conferences tonight," he said, walking down the isles. "Has anyone seen Mr. McCall?" Stiles, who had been highlighting every word in his book, and a couple pictures, looked up and shrugged. The highlighter cap was pursed tightly between his lips. Kinsey smiled at how cute he was.

"Ms. Archer, you wouldn't happen to be cheating on your homework, would you?"

Kinsey turned back around to Mr. Harris, who stood right in front of her desk. Her face dropped. "We didn't have homework . . ." Kinsey lied, somehow thinking that would trick the teacher.

"Why are you looking at his paper?"

"Because I don't get it."

"So, you're cheating?"

"No, it's just his notes."

"I don't tolerate cheating. I'll see you after school." Kinsey's jaw dropped as Harris walked away to talk to Jackson. Curse words bounced around inside her skull.

"Everyone, read chapter 9. . . Mr. Stilinski, try putting the highlighter down between paragraphs. It's chemistry, not a coloring book."

You're an under-paid teacher and an arrogant dick, not James Bond. Stop acting smooth.

Stiles spit the cap into the air and caught it, staring daggers at the back of the teachers head. Mr. Harris looked away, so Stiles leaned over to Danny. "Hey, can I ask you a question?"

Kinsey put away her homework, not able to turn it in, and started making a birthday card for Allison. She took out her markers and ignored Mr. Harris for the day.

"No," Danny answered Stiles.

"Well, I'm going to anyway. Did Lydia show up to your homeroom?"

"No."

"Can I ask you another question?"

"The answer is still no."

"Does anyone know what happened to her and Jackson last night."

". . . He wouldn't tell me."

"But . . ." Stiles drew out, "he's your best friend." Danny shrugged, questioning it himself. "One more question. Do you find me attractive?"

Kinsey burst out laughing, earning a sour look from the teacher. Danny looked concerned, wondering about Stiles' sanity. Stiles was leaning forward for his answer still, then fell out of his seat. Kinsey laughed harder as he scrambled to get up.

* * * * *

Once again, Jackson had made Derek's trip to the school slightly more unpleasant. He stepped into the hall, stopping to look around. He could clearly feel anger lingering in the halls. Someone was pissy.

Kinsey, after a dreadful extra hour in detention, sauntered down the hallways checking her phone.

From: Stiles
Have fun in detention? :D

"Harris," Kinsey dramatically sighed. She replied back. Derek watched her, although she was too glued to her phone to notice him. She was walking directly towards him, speaking every word she typed and laughing at her own witty reply.

This girl has some sort of mental problem. I see why she must fit in with Doofus 1 and 2.

From: Stiles
I'll text you later. At Lydia's. Just wanted to see if she was alright.

"Moron!" Kinsey screamed to her phone, referring to Stiles' desperation. She was too infuriated to notice anyone stepping out of the boys locker room, and too filled with jealousy to stop herself from bumping into him.

She looked up, guilty. What stopped her from saying sorry was the eyes that met her. They were more green than blue that day. "Hale." She tried to stay calm, already noticing his eyes changing. Thankfully, they changed back to their normal color.

He didn't say anything. Derek just stared at her confused. "You have a way with words," Kinsey joked. There was an awkward silence. She didn't know why she felt so compelled to force small talk. "You got some stubble on you," she said, rubbing her hand from the back of his jaw to his neck. He growled.

Touch barrier broken. He does not like. Why the hell did you just touch him?

Why the hell did she just touch me? Derek thought.

Her hand snapped back to her side. "What are you doing here?" he finally spoke.

"Uh, I think that's a better question if I ask you."

Derek's icy glare softened. "Paying your friend Jackson a visit."

"Not a friend. And you're not making that list either. You know, showing up at the scene of the crime probably wasn't a good idea. What if the alpha was still there?"

"He wasn't," Derek answered calmly.

"He could have showed up. Then, you'd be screwed. You're putting Scott in danger for your own gain." Kinsey crossed her arms.

"The alpha wants Scott. I'm helping." He stepped closer, showing his problem with boundary issues.

"You're dangerous. There are much better ways to protect him."

"Really? Name one." Derek towered over her, being at least six feet. Kinsey was a short 5'4". Her anger rose; she was drawing a blank. Derek slightly smirked, sort of. The kind of smirk someone who never smiles pulls off. "How do I know you don't need protection, too?"

Kinsey scoffed, throwing her arms to the side and stepping close to Derek's face. Derek had a feeling this would get under her skin. “I don't think you'd help me even if I asked.”

“Probably not.” He walked away, leaving with the last word.

"Hey! I wasn't done!" Kinsey followed him out, jogging to catch up. When she got outside, he was already in his car.