Beacon Hills Exclusive

My eyes shifted between the several tabs open up on my laptop of dresses for the upcoming homecoming dance. I sighed, pushing off my black fleece blanket with the Philadephia Flyers logo on it from my legs. I placed my laptop off my legs and got up, fixing my matching-black shorts and tank top. I walked out of my baby blue and white carpeted room through a solid white, wooden door and down a short hallway. I jogged down the stairs, turning a left and heading to the kitchen. I flipped on a light, walking towards the stainless-steel fridge. Bending down, I opened a drawer to grab an Arnold Palmer can. I straightened up, taking a travel-size container of sour cream from a package of twelve. I closed the refrigerator, grabbing a bag of pretzel sticks from the dark, multi-colored granite counter top. As I turned around, I nearly crashed into my step-mother. “I’m sorry,”

“Yup,” Pam nodded, going to the refrigerator. Her medium length brown curls bounced in her pony-tail as she looked like she had just come up from the basement from her nightly work out. She grabbed a cup of mixed fruit, sighing. “You’re good with math…. Can I gain weight from this?”

“It’s fake fruit, Pam,” I stated in a bored tone, trying to figure out where my math skills came to play with common sense. “It’s covered with preservatives, dyes, and sugar. If you want fruit, there’s some in the bottom part of the fridge,”

“But…. Can I gain weight from this?” Pam fiercely stared into my emerald eyes with her deep brown ones.

“Yes,” I gave her a quick answer, not feeling like being harassed tonight.

“Then how come you can eat that?” She loosely flung her pointer finger in the direction of the snacks in my arms with disgust.

“I work on a three-thousand calorie diet because of the amount of calories I burn at practice,” I shrugged. “My nutritionist-“

“Practice? Oh, please,” Pam rolled her eyes. “Gymnastics is nothing. You should see what I do downstairs,”

“You go on the treadmill for two hours and watch Real Housewives,” I tilted my head in confusion.

“Do you even-“

“You sit on a chair for about an hour and a half of that, too,” I cut her off. “You literally break a sweat watching reality shows,”

“They are stressful, god damn it,” Pam yelped, throwing her hands in the air.

The front door had closed and a man’s voice rang through the kitchen as he walked in. “Good evening, my princess,”

“Hey there, baby,” Pam cooed, kissing my father quickly. “Close any cases?”

“Not yet! Tomorrow is the final verdict, but I have a feeling my baby is getting a new dress,” My father wrapped his arms behind Pam’s waist, kissing her neck.

“I’m leaving,” I could hear the need to vomit in my voice as I turned on my heel.

“Sam,” My father called. I turned around, only peaking my head around the corner. “I put in enough money for your makeup, hair, dress, and whatever into your bank account. You worked hard for it,”

“Dad-“

“You don’t have to thank me. I told you if you won that meet, you would have every last penny you needed. You earned it,” He grinned his large grin at me and it made his blue eyes twinkle.

“Thank you,” I smiled. “Goodnight. I love you,”

“Yup,” He called, going back to Pam.

I bit my lip, walking up the stairs as I tried not to feel the tug at my heart. As I walked into my room, I put my snack on my white granite side table. I looked at my iPhone, seeing a missed call from Stiles. I picked up my phone, calling him back. He answered on the first ring, cheerfully. “Hey! I heard you won, Jam,”

I smiled at the nickname only Stiles had called me for years after he figured out my obsession with homemade jam on popcorn concoction I make to eat before a competition. “Yes, I did. Thanks,”

“What’s wrong?” Stiles immediately sensed the tension in my tone.

“Nothing big, really,” I rolled my eyes, closing my bedroom door before I sat on my bed. “Did your Dad ever not say ‘I love you’ back?”

“Not this again,” I could hear Stiles rolling his eyes. “Your father loves you, Sam. He just has a weird way of showing it,”

“If someone says ‘I love you’, you should say it back if you feel it,” Silence filled the other end as I heard Stiles scratching his head. “I told you it was nothing big,”

“Go look at homecoming dresses again,” Stiles laughed. “I know there’s no way in hell you don’t have ten tabs up on your laptop right now of dresses,”

“There are not ten,” I yelped. “There’s seven,”

“Close enough,” Stiles screamed.

“I’m hanging up, you’re rude,” I huffed.

“I’ll pick you and Scott up at eight?” Stiles questioned, seeing if the time was sufficient.

“Yes, please,” I smiled at the phone. “Night,”

“Nighty-night,” Stiles called, clicking ‘end’ on our phone call.

I bit my lip, trying to hold back my grin as I looked through the tabs of dresses once more and munch on my snack.

**********

A loud ringing went through my ears, shooting my eyes awake. I rolled over to my right, smacking my cell phone until it shut the alarm off. I grunted, getting up and rubbing my head. I walked over to my mini walk-in closet, opening the all-white door. I closed the door behind me, turning on the light. I grabbed a pair of high-waist black shorts and an oversized, maroon, v-neck t-shirt. I quickly got on a black bra and matching thong and black socks, then put on my outfit. I kicked my dirty clothes into my hamper, smirking when they all got in on my first try.

As I walked out of my closet, I turned the light off and closed the door behind me, heading towards my makeup vanity. It was an old-fashioned white marble kind, with an arch of large light bulbs around the mirror. I wiped my face with a baby wipe and then applied concealer. I put on a quick brush of translucent powder, mascara, and chapstick, not wanting to apply much with the heat wave that has been going on. I brushed out my hair, taking my spray bottle of water to it. I then took hairspray to my long, blonde curls, making sure to seal away the fly-a-ways.

I got up, going to the white marble chest I have at the end of my bed and opening it up. I rummaged through the piled of shoes, getting stabbed with a few pairs of heels, just to grab my pair of all over black Vans sneakers. I closed the chest, sitting on it to put on my shoes. I went over to my side table, grabbing my florescent pink backpack and slipping it over my right shoulder. I grabbed my cell phone off the charger, walking out my bedroom, and heading to the kitchen.

I saw that my father’s briefcase had vanished from the coffee table, indicating he had already gone to his law firm. I sniffed the air, not smelling a hint of cheap perfume and cigarettes, and I knew Pam had gone out shopping. I walked to the kitchen, grabbing an orange and began to peel and eat it. I heard the front door open and two voices bickering. “Sam, Wacko Jacko or Jack’s Joint?”

I smirked at Stiles’ question. “Wacko Jacko. They’re authentic Mexican and cheap. Jack’s Joint is just a fake burger place that uses kittens for their meat,”

“How dare you,” Scott’s puppy brown eyes looked hurt as his slightly-crooked jaw dropped. He put his tanned hand over his black t-shirt, symbolizing a stab to his heart. “JJ’s is a blessing,”

“JJ’s is diarrhea on a dollar menu,” Stiles rolled his big, brown eyes, running a hand over his buzz-cut brown hair.

“Stiles, stop talking,” I grunted, turning around to put on a pot of coffee. “Do you boys want any?”

“Please,” They smiled brightly in unison.

I looked at Scott, seeing a bandage peeking through his t-shirt. “Scott, why does it look like you have a bandage on your side?”

The boys shared nervous glances before Scott slowly lifted up his shirt. A large bandage wrapped his entire ribcage, dried blood staining it. Scott sighed, “Last night we were looking for a body-“

“A body?” I raised an eyebrow, turning around to get three to-go cups. I placed them in front of the boys on the marble island in the middle of the all black and white kitchen.

I grabbed half and half and sugar for the boys and me as Scott continued his tale. “Stiles heard it on a police scanner that there was a body found in the woods and-“

“Half,” Stiles raised his hand to correct Scott. “Half of a body was found in the woods,”

“Well, where is the other half?” I raise an eyebrow, beginning to pour the fresh coffee into each cup so we could fix up our drinks.

“They haven’t found it yet,” Stiles sighed.

“But, Stiles’ father and the rest of the officers were in the woods, too. They spotted Stiles and I managed to hide. They left, but then I was attacked by something,”

“Huh,” I shook my head. “Did your mom look at it?”

“She didn’t know I left the house,” Scott shook his head. “Besides, she took the night shift again at the hospital, so she has enough on her plate,”

“Whatever you say,” I put water in the empty coffee pot to wash it out, then went to fix up my coffee quickly. Once we were all done, I put the supplies away, handing out lids to the boys. They thanked me, and we walked outside to get into Stiles’ old, blue Jeep. I walked behind the boys, staring at Scott. Why doesn’t he look like he’s in any pain? That cut should have landed him in the hospital! Unless….

“Sam, do you have practice today?” Stiles asked, as I climbed into the back and Scott got into the passenger’s seat.

“No, why?” I questioned.

“Wacko Jacko it is,” Stiles smiled, clapping his hands together.