Speak No Evil, Stiles Stilins...

EIGHT. GRIEF WILL KEEP YOU REACHING
BACK FOR WHAT IS NOT THERE

Hannah was the first face Lacy saw when she walked into Chemistry. She was seated alone, nobody willing to share the seat next to her, and her head was down, aimlessly staring at the open biology textbook without any means to actually read it. She just hated eye contact. Always did. Volleyball was the only time Hannah Kross ever made eye contact with anyone. It was an engaging sport, one that she had fallen in love with over time despite being forced to join. It helped that she was a damn good libero as well.

Lacy spent a lot of her time wondering why she never asked Hannah to hang out more or why Hannah would often dismiss her hellos and how are yours? during practice and in school. It wasn't a secret that the two girls were different. Lacy was the personification of a high school girl — beautiful, popular, and energy that all would describe as infectious. Her favorite flowers are daisies and when she was a kid, Lacy would come to school with a daisy tucked behind her ear. She always smelt of flowers. Some would deeply describe her as Spring. Hannah's nothing like Lacy. She's nothing like what Daphne and Kayla were. Hannah's nothing at all (nobody's ever said that, it's just what she thinks).

Hannah lifted her head when she saw a shadow in her peripheral vision and she tensed up once she saw it was Lacy, the tall girl appearing small. "This seat taken?"

She stared at her, unimpressed. "I guess not," she decided.

Lacy chewed on her bottom lip. She put her bag on the floor and sat down, cringing at the creaking sound the chair made against the tiles. The classroom was barely full as people slowly started to enter from the hallway.

"You sure you wouldn't rather sit with her?"

She furrowed her brows. Hannah's eyes were darted past her and Lacy followed. Lydia entered the chemistry lab. She sat up straight in the slightest. Lydia found her eyes as she walked by, her face unreadable and she sat in the front row. Lacy smiled at her, the gesture small, and Lydia tried to smile back, but almost like she was trying to convince herself not to.

She turned her attention back to Hannah, her gaze fixating on her hearing aids for a few seconds. "Have you—"

"Isaac's back."

Lacy blinked in shock. Hannah's lips clamped shut. "I know," she said abruptly, clearing her throat. "I-I saw him earlier. . .in the hallway. M-My dad had called me. . ." She hears Stiles's voice in her head. Isaac was accused of murder. . .murdering his father. He was arrested. "Did you know?"

Hannah's jaw clicked. "Yeah. It happened a few weeks ago. It was, uh, crazy," she explained and tucked her hands into tight, uncomfortable fists on the table. "Your dad didn't tell you?"

"No," Lacy answered, frowning slightly. Her gaze unconsciously turned at the back of Lydia's head. "He hadn't told me a lot of things, apparently."

At the same time, Scott and Stiles and Erica and Issac walked into the chemistry lab. Lacy flinched when the four of them darted toward Lydia at the same time, Scott and Stiles ultimately getting to her first and they sat on either side of her.

"Jesus, what's up with them?" Hannah questioned as she observed the angry looks on Erica and Isaac's faces when they went to sit down at different desks.

"I couldn't tell you," Lacy muttered.

Stiles rubbed the back of his neck and he peered over his shoulder. He sent her a tight lipped smile, to which she returned.

Hannah caught Isaac's wondering eye and the two of them stared at each other, the girl watching him clench his jaw and she broke eye contact first, now wishing she hadn't shown up to class at all.

Lacy noticed the short interaction and she felt her heart rate spike. "Does he know?" She whispered.

She flinched at how sharply Hannah looked her way, almost glaring. "No, and I'm not telling him either," she responded harshly while keeping her voice quiet like she was afraid of anybody hearing her. "Neither should you."

There was no anger in her eyes. No, she shadow that gleamed inside her green eyes was a memory, one that terrified her. Lacy knows this because she always has the same memory and it haunts her just as much as it haunts Hannah.

Once Harris began class, Lacy forced herself to forget about it. "Einstein once said, 'Two things are infinite: the universe and human stupidity—"

Hannah snorted quietly. "Yeah, ain't that the truth."

"And I'm not sure about the universe.' I, myself, have encountered infinite stupidity."

When Lacy saw his eyes cut to Stiles, she rolled hers.

"So to combat the plague of ignorance in my class, you're going to combine efforts through a round of group experiments. Let's see if two heads are indeed better than one. Or in Mr. Stilinski's case, less than one."

Stiles also rolled his eyes.

"Erica, you'll take the first station. You'll start with—" Harris was cut off by an abundance of hands immediately raising in the air, mostly males followed by a few girls, except for Scott, Stiles, and Isaac. "I didn't ask for volunteers. Put your hormonal little hands down. Start with Mr. McCall."

"I think I've forgotten everything there is about chemistry," Lacy admitted, her lips curling into a light smile.

"It's not like it's important," Hannah muttered, reaching for a beaker and the blue liquid on the table. "Exactly what does this shit teach us?"

Lacy blinked and watched her pour the substance into the beaker. She shook her head. "I don't know."

"None of this helped us when we were trapped out there."

The words startled her. Hannah met her side eyes. "Sorry," she mumbled and felt her hands start to shake.

"Hey, it's okay," Lacy quickly said and grabbed the beaker from her hand so she wouldn't drop it. For a minute, she forgot where she was and was back to that room where Hannah was screaming and crying and she was trying her best to calm them all down. "It's okay, Hannah."

"Miss Austin, Miss Kross, is there a problem?"

Everybody turned to them. Lacy's muscles tensed, Hannah glared at Harris like she wanted to throw him through a wall. "No," she snapped.

"Everything's fine," Lacy's voice was more gentle but shaky.

"I think now's a good time for a switch," Harris announced, his voice monotonous, and he dinged the bell on his desk.

Hannah was quick to leave the desk. Lacy felt her heart drop to her stomach.

When Stiles saw Isaac make his way to Lydia, his eyes went wide. "Uhhh, Lacy!" He panicked and grabbed the girls arm, tugging her out of her seat. "Lydia needs a partner."

Lydia quickly looked over her shoulder. Lacy's jaw dropped. "Uhhhh—"

The boy dragged her to the desk. "Here we go. Perfect. This is perfect," said Stiles and he laughed, the two girls are staring at him blankly. His laughter stilled. "Right. Okay. Have fun you two."

"Gosh, he's so weird," Lydia huffed.

Lacy exhaled a laugh through her nose. "Yeah, and he's been in love with you forever now."

She pulled a face. "Yeah, that's a pass."

"Stiles is sweet. He's loud, obnoxious, and hyperactive, but he's sweet." Lacy stared at the side of her face, then she frowned. "Are you okay?"

"Why wouldn't I be?" Lydia questioned, not making eye contact as they continued with the experiment.

Lacy gulped anxiously. "You had a panic attack during class. You won't look at me. You've barely said a word to me since that night you came over to my house. . .it's kind of like you're avoiding me."

Lydia faltered and finally, she looked her way. "I'm not avoiding you, Lacy,"

Lie. It was always easy for Lacy to tell when Lydia lies. She aways tried smiling but it was tight, she always looked at your forehead or chin rather than in your eyes, and her nostrils flared. "Why didn't you tell me you went missing?" She asked and Lydia tensed up. "When you came over that night. Why didn't you tell me?"

Silence. They stared at each other intensely. Lydia jaw was so tense that it hurt her teeth and she seemed to completely forget about the experiment. "Why would I?"

Ding. "Switch."

Lacy barely had time to register the way her heart dropped to her stomach. Lydia left the table and Lacy's gaze was fixated on where she once sat. It was painful to hear, especially from somebody she was once friends with. Is that what changed? Were they not friends anymore? In the amount of time she was gone, did Lydia forget about everything they shared with each other? Or did it mean nothing this whole time?

Stiles sank into the open seat. "You alright?" He asked, eyes darting around every inch of her face.

Lacy, her face solemn, lifted her eyes to his. "Have I been wrong this whole time? Does Lydia just. . .not like me anymore?"

It was like a little girl asking her parents why the kids on the playground wouldn't play with her. It was a little girl with big eyes full of tears. It was a lost innocence. "Why do you think that?" Stiles asked but his attention shifted to over her head where Isaac had sat with Lydia.

Lacy followed his gaze. She'd been watching the way they all watched Lydia like a hawk, like they knew something she didn't. "Is there something I should know?" She changed subjects.

"Uhhh, no," said Stiles with a nervous scoff. "W-Why do you ask?"

"Cause you're all acting like something's about to happen."

"No. Nope. Nothing's happening. Nothing at all. Just, uh, experimenting here. . .is all." He continuously denied, vigorously shaking his head, while holding up the beaker.

Lacy narrowed her eyes at him. He smiled at her, showing his teeth in a very awkward, convincing way.

Harris called for them to switch again.

She sat with Allison this time, hoping for a normal interaction, but Lacy was quick to notice how nervous she presented herself. "Are you okay?"

"Has, uh, Stiles and Scott say anything to you? About Lydia?" Allison asked.

Lacy furrowed her brows slightly. "Yeah, uh. . .they told me about when she went missing, but nothing else." She sat up straight. "Don't tell me you're in on this. . .watch party."

Like Stiles, Allison nervously laughed. "No. Not at–Not at all."

"Allison, if something's wrong with Lydia, please tell me," Lacy begged and leaned closer to her. "I know she probably hates me, but, I'm worried. I don't want her to get hurt."

Allison titled her head. "Hate you? Why would she hate you?"

Before she could say anything else, Harris rang the bell one last time. "Time. If you've catalyzed the reaction correctly, you should now be looking at a crystal."

Lacy and Allison peered into their beaker. It wasn't the smoothest looking crystal, but the cylinder shape was there, which was better than Lacy had thought she's done.

"Now, for the last part of the experiment I'm sure you'll al enjoy — you can eat it."

The girls looked at each other. "Not it," claimed Lacy, making Allison smile.

A sudden wave a chills sprung from her neck all the way down her spine and Lacy shivered. The hairs on her body stood up.

"Lydia!" Scott screamed, making her jump out of her skin.

Everybody in the room looked his way and Lydia stared at him like he was crazy, her crystal half way to her mouth. "What?"

With his jaw dropped, Scott looked around the room, eyes falling on Allison, then to Stiles. He slowly sat back down. "N-Nothing," he spoke, calmer that time.

Lydia but into her crystal. Lacy watched all of their faces change and she indeed, along with probably everyone, thought they were insane. "Was something supposed to happen, or. . .?" She thought out loud, her eyes cutting to Allison, though she didn't receive a response.

Lacy stared at her father across the dinner table, his fork scraping on the plate while hers remained untouched. A medium rare steak, a favorite of hers, now something she couldn't stomach to eat, so her father cooked it medium for her. Dinner was never really something they had the opportunity to share with his job, but Sam wanted that to change. He got his daughter back, she was safe at home with him, that mattered to him more than whatever job he had.

"You're not eating," Samuel pointed out.

It wasn't the first time which is why he didn't sound surprised. Lacy barely ate anymore. The thought of eating made her sick, the smell made her nauseous. Even the thought of chewing food made her feel weak. "Can I ask you something?" She changed the subject.

There was a pause. "Of course, sweetheart," responded Sam, sitting his fork down.

Lacy popped her knuckles under the table. "Earlier today when you called me to tell me about Isaac. . .you never explained why," she spoke slowly. "Why he came back to school, I mean. What happened?"

Samuel stared at his daughter with parted lips, then he blinked. "Oh. Um. . .there was, uh, complications and he had to leave school for a little while. That's all."

She hummed. Like Lydia, her father had his own tellings when he lied. His hands started fidgeting. "Complications. Like what?"

He shook his head. "I can't discuss that—"

"Why are you lying to me?"

Samuel blinked in shock. "Lacy,"

"You don't think I deserve to know when something happens to my friends?"

He sighed. "Lacy, you know my job. I can't tell you things like that—"

"Is that why you didn't tell me about Lydia?" Lacy cut him off, the volume in her voice raising slightly.

There was another pause. Sam's lips were parted but no words came out.

"You've known for months now that she went missing and you didn't tell me," she accused, growing angry. "Why?"

"How could I tell you something like that?" He matched tone, raising his hands. "You hadn't been home that long and I didn't want you to have to worry about anything, so I didn't tell you. To keep you safe."

Lacy scoffed. "I don't need you to—"

He pointed a stern finger at her. "Don't sell me that teenage bullshit. I'm your father. You were taken from me and I have you back now. I'm not going to have you worrying about things that have nothing to do about you."

The loud sound of the chair screeching against the floor echoed in the room. "You should have told me! I was kidnapped, dad. I didn't think I was ever gonna come back home. I thought I was gonna die! But I didn't, and I come back to find out that my friend went missing too?" Lacy yelled as she stood up, her voice cracking. "Was she scared like I was? Did she think she'd never see her family again? Her friends?"

Samuel softeners and stood up as well. "I'm sorry, sweetheart—"

"And Issac? I mean, accused of murder?" She continued to let out, throwing her hands up.

"Who told you that? Stiles?"

"Issac would never hurt anyone!"

Sam again shook his head. "That's not how my job works, honey," he tried to calm himself.

"Do you know what I saw when I saw him in the hallway?" Lacy inquired with another clear break in her voice. "I saw Daphne."

Her father frowned.

"I saw my best friend. I saw the two of them together again. He looked so shocked to see me, like he was seeing the same things as me. And now I have to be in the same room knowing that he doesn't know what happened to Daphne but I do." She started to cry.

Sam stepped forward. "Lacy—"

She turned away from him. "I'm going to bed."

"Lacy. Lacy, come back. Please!" Sam yelled but was again ignored as she darted upstairs. A loud huff escaped his lips like he had forgotten how to breathe and Samuel collapsed back into his chair, rubbing his hands against his tired face.