Chapitre 22: Chapter 22: The Bus Incident
The next morning started with a burst of mischief. Scott, as usual, was up to his antics, and today's fun involved Allison's dad, Chris Argent. After breakfast with his mom, Scott drove to pick up Allison from her house, catching Chris's eye as he kissed her on the cheek and gave him a smug grin.
"Morning, Uncle Chris!" Scott greeted him with a cheeky grin.
Chris's eyes narrowed dangerously, but Allison quickly pulled Scott away by his ear and dragged him toward his car. "Do you have to annoy him every time?" she chided, but a hint of a smile betrayed her amusement.
"Hey, he's family now," Scott teased, rubbing his ear but looking far too pleased with himself.
They headed off to school, laughter filling the car as Allison couldn't help but find his playful confidence contagious.
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At school, Scott and Allison noticed an unusual amount of commotion in the parking lot. Several sheriff's deputies were scattered around, talking with a few students who looked a little shaken up. As they stepped out of the car, they heard whispers from nearby students.
"Did you hear? The bus driver was found dead… mauled by some animal," someone said.
Scott exchanged a quick look with Allison, but he kept his expression neutral. He knew exactly what had happened—Garrison Myers, the bus driver, was just the latest of Peter Hale's victims. He felt no sympathy for the man. Myers had been involved in the Hale House fire; he'd been in on it with Kate Argent. Scott had decided long ago that, as long as Peter didn't harm the innocent, he wouldn't interfere with his revenge. Not yet, anyway.
Stiles came running up, nearly tripping over himself in his hurry to deliver the news. "Scott! Did you hear about—"
His eyes fell on Allison, and he stopped abruptly, suddenly remembering that she was in the dark about Beacon Hills' supernatural happenings. "Uh, I mean, did you hear about the… uh… the incident?" he stammered, making wide, nervous gestures that did little to hide his discomfort.
Scott patted Stiles on the shoulder, offering a small smile. "It's okay, Stiles, you can breathe. We heard," he said, sparing his friend further embarrassment.
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Later, during lunch in the cafeteria, Scott, Allison, and Stiles sat together, joined—rather unexpectedly—by Lydia and Jackson. Scott wasn't thrilled about it, especially with Jackson shooting him occasional glares, but he brushed it off. Jackson's bad mood was hardly his problem.
"So, anyone hear anything new about the bus driver?" Allison asked.
Lydia's eyes lit up with a mix of frustration and boredom. "Can we talk about something a bit more fun, please?" she asked, tossing her hair over her shoulder. "Like… where are we going tomorrow night?"
Scott exchanged glances with Allison, both caught off guard. "Uh… what exactly are you talking about, Lydia?" Allison asked, looking genuinely confused.
Lydia sighed as if it were the most obvious thing in the world. "You said you and Scott were hanging out tomorrow night, right?" she said, leaning in. "So, let's make it a double date. We'll all go out together."
Scott, however, wasn't having it. "Sorry, Lydia, but I'm taking Allison on a date—just the two of us. No offense, but the last thing I need is Jackson tagging along," he replied, flashing Jackson a teasing smile that he knew would provoke him.
Jackson's expression tightened, and Lydia rolled her eyes. "Oh, come on, Scott! Jackson's not that bad."
Scott raised an eyebrow, smirking. "Sure, as long as he keeps his mouth shut and doesn't get on my nerves. Because if he does, we might have to test his pain tolerance," Scott quipped, keeping his voice light but unmistakably firm.
Lydia glared at him, her fiery spirit on full display. "You're being a jerk, McCall," she snapped. "Allison deserves someone better."
Scott, unfazed, simply chuckled. "Well, not to brag, but I am the most handsome guy in Beacon Hills," he said with a playful wink at Allison. "And Allison's lucky to have me."
Allison rolled her eyes, clearly amused by his antics. "Oh, so I'm just an ugly lucky girl, huh?" she teased, nudging him.
Scott gave her a dramatic look of mock horror. "Wait, no! Who said that?" He said quickly, trying to cover his slip. He turned to Stiles. "Oh, it was you stiles, you said that, didn't you? Just because you are single? You want me and Allison to break up? I thought we were brothers, man!"
Stiles, who had been munching on his fries while watching the whole exchange, immediately played along. "Whoa, Scott, throwing me under the bus? Some brother you are," he said, feigning betrayal.
Allison laughed, enjoying the banter as she folded her arms, giving Scott a mock glare. "Maybe you deserve a little punishment for that one."
Scott held up his hands, backing up slightly. "Hey, now, let's not get hasty here. You know I was just kidding."
Allison raised an eyebrow and then glanced at Stiles, who immediately caught on. "You know what? I think he does deserve a little lesson," he said mischievously.
With that, Allison reached out and tugged Scott by the ear, much to Stiles's delight. "Ow! Okay, okay, I surrender!" Scott laughed, doing his best to look repentant. "Allison, I'm sorry! You're the most beautiful girl in the world. How could I even think I was doing you a favor?"
She rolled her eyes, releasing his ear. "Just don't forget it," she replied with a grin. "Or you might not be so lucky next time."
As Scott rubbed his ear, he glared playfully at Stiles. "You're enjoying this way too much, man."
Stiles shrugged, ducking behind Allison for protection. "Hey, I'm just here for moral support."
Scott huffed, then turned his attention to Jackson, who had been watching everything with an expression of disdain. "And what's with the look, Jackass? Maybe I should teach you a lesson."
Jackson glared back, but before he could say anything, Allison tugged Scott's arm, pulling him toward the door. "Alright, Mr. Troublemaker, it's time for our next class."
Scott smirked at Jackson, letting Allison lead him away. "Saved by the bell," he whispered just loud enough for Jackson to hear, enjoying the frustrated look on his face.
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