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CHAPTER FOUR
"crackhead derek"
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NOBODY TOLD HER what was going on.

"You know, at this point I think we could legally report them to the FBI." Connie mused, absentmindedly staring at her nails as Lex tried to cover up the strip of bandage on her face with concealer. It didn't work, and she huffed in annoyance as Connie continued. 

 "Like, they're acting shady as fuck." 

 "You know what we should do?" Lex tucked her concealer into her bag, turning to face her friend. "We should stalk them. No, let's stalk Stilinski: he probably wouldn't notice." 

 "He definitely wouldn't notice." 

 The door of the classroom opened, and Scott walked in. He smiled at the girls as Allison, Stiles, and Lydia followed: then another man. Lex's jaw dropped open. "Oh my god! It's Crackhead Derek!" 

 "Holy shit!" Connie jumped from the desk she was sitting out, her jaw dropping as the older man crossed his arms. "I thought he died."

 Derek Hale rolled his eyes as Connie and Lex shared a look. They had heard many stories about Derek - many of them being about how he apparently went on a crazy serial-killer spree last year. Lex guessed that he was actually innocent, on account of Scott was bringing him into a public high school. Since the man was so enigmatic, Lex and Connie had come up with the nickname "Crackhead Derek", which they have been using for months now. 

 And now, Crackhead Derek was standing directly in front of them. And he did not look happy

"Why did you bring me here?" He demanded, narrowing his eyes at Connie and Lex. "And who are they?" 

"Oh my god, Crackhead Derek doesn't know who we are," Lex turned to Connie. "That's a good thing, right? So he won't try to murder us." 

 The dark-haired girl nodded soundly, "or sell us drugs."

Derek only looked more confused as he turned to Scott and repeated his question. "McCall, who the hell are they?"

 He nervously laughed, "this is my girlfriend, Lex, and this is her best friend, Connie."

Lex felt her chest turn at the usage of the term 'girlfriend' and a grin spread across her face. Connie caught that, and a smile quirked on her lips as she shook her head slightly. She then turned back to Derek, crossing her arms. "May we help you?"

"Could you guys please show Derek your arms?" Scott asked, Lex noting how he was purposely making his tone softer. That made her playfully roll her eyes, crossing her legs and pursing her lips as she gave the man a once-over. 

 "I dunno, McCall, this is getting really sketchy." She mused, speaking nothing but the true. She always knew that there was something weird about Scott McCall, but him bringing Derek to look at some matching bruises that her and her friend had? That may be a new record for weird. 

"Just trust me," he said, shooting her a soft smile as he extended his hand. Lex sighed, before placing her hand in his and allowing him to lead her over to Derek. She grinned sarcastically up at him, giving a small wave with her free hand. The man rolled his eyes in response as Connie walked over, huffing. 

 "No one even offered to hold my hand." She grumbled, giving Derek a quick once over. "What is this, some sort of intervention? Are you trying to get Crackhead Derek to-"

"McCall, what is the point of this?" Derek demanded, a hard edge to his voice, earning a scowl and a middle-finger from Connie.

 Scott shot him a look, "I'm getting there. Look at these bruises-"

The girls alligned their arms, sharing a look as they did so. Lex honestly didn't even want to know why her not-boyfriend was associated with Derek Hale, and figured that if she kept her mouth shut she wouldn't have to put up with any follow-up questions. 

Derek stared at them for a moment, looking like he would rather be anywhere else as he sighed deeply. "I don't see anything."

 "Look again," Scott persisted, as Lex leaned over to whisper to Connie;

"The drugs must effect his eyesight."

"How is a bruise supposed to tell me where Erica and Boyd are?"

"Erica and Boyd?" Lex repeated, her jaw dropping slightly as she turned to look at Scott. "Like, Erica Reyes and Vernon Boyd? The two kids who they said went missing?" 

 "Alright, I'm out," Connie swiftly pulled away, turning to grab her bag off of the desk. She turned around, her dark eyes raking over the group, a barely noticable indent marking the space between her eyes as her eyebrows furrowed. "I'm not about to be involved in a child kidnapping ring, and I have AP Bio first period." She outstretched her hand, silver rings glinting on three of her fingers, "Lexi, are you coming?"

 "Um-" Lex glanced over at Derek, pursing her lips. She didn't want to admit it, but she was rightfully intrigued. Lex was used to knowing a lot about what circulates through their school, whether it be who is sleeping with who, or who got suspended for punching who in the face... she liked being in the loop. Was it trivial? Perhaps. Was she going to stop? Oh, definitely not. "I have pratice, I'll walk out with Scott." 

 Connie's eyebrows rose like she couldn't believe what she was hearing. She turned to look at Lydia and Allison, both of whom had their arms crossed like they were watching their favorite television show. Finally, she exhaled sharply, and shot Derek a rather fake smile as she passed. "You do something sketchy, and an anonymous source reports you to the FDA."

 Then she turned and sauntered out, leaving Derek with an even more confused expression than before, and Lex with a smirk dusting her lips.

"Alright, nerds, listen up-" Lex turned and slammed her hands down onto the desk that Stiles was leaning his elbows on; for the sole purpose to see him jump. He did, nearly falling out of his chair as he put one hand to his chest, using the other to flip her off. "I'm not about to be involved in a murder investigation, so why don't you tell me exactly what's going on before I turn Stilinski into the worlds smallest leather couch."

 "Hey, threats aren't appreciated here!" Stiles snapped back. "Plus, you're too short to do that, you wouldn't even be able to reach my head." 

 Lex responded by pinching his cheek and flicking his forehead, making the boy recoil, "hey!" 

 "What's going on is... hard to explain." Scott began, obviously choosing his words with extreme precision as Lex fixated him with a sharp look. "But Derek might be able to find Boyd and Erica, they were - uh  - close." 

 "Close?" Lex repeated, skeptiscm leaking from her tone as she gave Derek a once over. "You, Crackhead Derek, were close with hot-Erica and hot-Boyd?"

 Derek's gaze was beginning to make Lex uncomfortable, but she didn't dare show it. Instead, she just glared back at him; crossing her arms and tilting her chin up. Goosebumps were rising on her exposed skin, her cheer uniform not doing much to protect her from the man's icy glare. Finally, he spoke up. 

 "McCall, a bruise doesn't mean anything. You want to help? Find something real."

 And then he turned and walked off, leaving Lex to turn her steely expression onto Scott. He sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose. 

 He definitely had his work cut out for him. 

 ***

LEX WAS PULLED out of Spanish class to talk to the police. 

 It was probably for the best. Nobody liked her in Spanish, since they knew that she was getting an easy A. She did, however, manage to pass the time by writing notes and selling them for ten dollars a lesson. Was it allowed? Nope, absolutely not. But it was a smart thing to do, and Lex found it amusing how frusterated people got when it came to learning a language they didn't speak. 

 "Is something wrong, Sheriff?" She asked, crossing her legs as the man stood in front of her. They were in the vacated hallway, and Stiles' father was pacing back and forth as he reviewed notes scribbled on a pad. 

 Still, despite his evident concern, he still managed to shoot Lex a small smile. "I just have some questions for you. You were at the party with Stiles the other night, right?" 

 "Oh yeah," she nodded slowly, wondering exactly what she could have done at that party that would require police attention. She didn't even drink, all she did was get kissed by some random girl and talk to Scott about meeting his mom. "I was." 

 Noah Stilinski smiled, even though it seemed that he didn't want to. "I'll admit, I was surprised when Stiles told me. You two haven't hung out in years, it's been weird not seeing you in our house everyday. How have you been?" 

 "Oh, just... great." She drummed her hands on her thighs, feeling her face flush. She didn't like talking about her broken friendship with the Stilinski boy, it made her chest swell to the point of breathing difficulties. The past was done, so Lex liked to look to the future with a set gaze. Bringing up things that had since passed only dragged along the residue that came along with it. She smiled, but it didn't reach her eyes. "I've been great." 

 "Still cheering, I see." He gestured to her outfit, and she laughed through her teeth. 

 "Still the best." 

 "Oh, I'm sure." The man chuckled to himself, flipping to an open page of his notebook. "Lex, what were you doing at that party?" 

 "Well, I came with Scott," she pressed her hands together. "And we just kind of sat in the living room and talked the whole time. Stiles went to-" she almost laughed, but managed to cover it up with a cough, "hang out with his friend. The blonde?"

"Heather." The Sheriff shut his notebook, tucking it into his pocket and crossing his arms. "Did you see Heather at all that night?" 

 Lex shook her head, pursing her lips. "Nope, not since she left with Stiles. I think she went into the basement." 

 "Did you know her before?" 

 "Not before she kissed me." She laughed, amused at the memory as she crossed her legs. She realized what she said, and felt her muscles seize, before relaxing as the Sheriff just chuckled. 

 "She's always been friendly. Lex-" He looked her in the eye, "Heather hasn't been seen since that night, she was officially reported as missing." 

 Missing. The word reminded her of the encounter she had with Derek Hale earlier that day, and she pulled her jacket tighter around her sides. "Missing?"

 "Unfortunately," the Sheriff sighed, "we're trying to get as much information as possible, but you're good to go - we just wanted to cover all the bases." 

 Lex rose to her feet, smiling at the man as she began to walk back to the classroom. At the last second, she paused and turned around. "Mr. Stilinski?"

 He hummed, turning to look at her. She opened her mouth, but closed it again as the hesitation seized her words. She mustered up enough courage to ask the question, when the curiousity grew to be too much. "Do you think she ran off? Or do you think someone took her?" 

 He paused, wincing slightly at the question, "well... it was her birthday, there were a dozen people upstairs, I can't imagine  her just running away." 

 Lex nodded, "so who would be the main suspect?" 

 "Well, usually in cases like this we question the last person to have seen the person in question." He ran a hand over his face with a sigh. "Which in this case would be-" 

 Lex cut him off, feeling her chest inflate as she clenched her hands into fists so that her nails cut into her palm. 

 "Stiles."

 ***

CAMILA AND DANTE RIVERA were not the most welcoming of parents. 

They also weren't the most present. Lex had grown so used to making her own dinner and bringing it up to her room to eat while reviewing her homework, that when they were both home upon her return from school, she was rightfully shocked. She was even more shocked when they told her they would be eating together. 

 So now she was sitting at one end of the table, awkwardly staring at the bruise on her wrist as they spoke about their day. 

 "What about you, Alexis?" Camila set down her fork, folding her hands on her lap as Lex sipped her tomato soup. It was the kind from a can, but nobody in the house was skilled at cooking so Lex didn't mind. "What did you do today at school?" 

 Spoke to a known criminal, was interrogated by the police, pretty much suspected that my new accquaintences are involved in some sort of weird crime ring...

 She smiled, "nothing much."

"Oh come on, Mija." Dante folded his napkin neatly beside his bowl, adjusting the wire-rimmed glasses that framed his sharp brown eyes. "You can talk to us, I know that high school is more interesting than nothing." 

 Lex had a lot to say to that, but she just cleared her throat and straightened her back when her mother gestured for her to do so. "Well," she wracked her brain for something to say.

 Suddenly, she was struck by a thought. It was a thought that held bitter amusement when passed through her mind; a thought that made her clench her fists until her knuckles turned white, just to feel the hot rush of blood as her circulation returned. A thought that she could think time and time again, and the way the words rushed through her mind wouldn't compare to the way they sounded when spoken aloud. In fact now, she nearly smiled at the whispers in her ears.

 She didn't know how to talk to her parents. 

 But she had to try, so she sucked in a breath to feel her lungs expand, and then spoke as she exhaled. "I had a test in Pre-Calc-" 

 Camila cut her off, "one that you studied for, I presume?" 

 Lex wanted to clench her jaw, but forced her face to stay relaxed. "Yes, all last night. I also had practice, where we went over our routine for-" 

 "You know, I never understood the appeal of cheerleading," Dante said, taking a sip from his bowl. "It is just a punch of girls doing flips isn't it? Don't you cheer for the football team? Why would you need to practice for that, I'm sure the boys would be happy for you to make a sign and cheer for them on the stands like everyone else." 

 Lex felt her ribs tighten, as if they were trying to silently will her heart to beat slower. "I don't do it for the boys, Papa, I do it because it makes me happy." 

 "I never said that was a bad thing, Alexis, I am simply wondering why you go through the struggle and the danger of being thrown in the air if it doesn't have any real outcomes on your life." 

 "They have cheer scholarships," Lex explained, keeping her voice level. "For university. It is also good for you, there is a lot of exercise involved. And don't you always tell me that I should explore leadership opportunities?" 

 When Dante rose his gaze to meet hers, his eyes were steely. "Why are you getting angry at me?" 

 She was angry - in fact, she could feel her face burning bright red. She wanted nothing more than to stand up and scream until her vocal chords dried, but she didn't. She took a deep breath and closed her eyes for a moment, trying to imagine something to paint behind her eyelids that would help her relax. 

 But she never could, so she opened her eyes. "I'm not getting angry." 

 "Dios mío, the two of you truly are similar," Camila shook her head, "let's not focus on the negative, let's focus on the positive. Amor, you recently got a new client, why don't you tell us about that?" 

 Lex took a sip of her water to hide her scoff as her father began ranting about the newest criminal he was enlisted to defend. She looked down at her wrist, and began absentmidedly tracing the other half into the table. There was something so ineffably familiar about the pattern to the girl, but she couldn't place her finger on it. It was to the point where it made the back of her head ache, but she couldn't place where she would have seen it before. 

 She also didn't understand how the marking could have appeared on her skin how it did - so detailed, like it was drawn - from the grip of someones hand. Lex had been grabbing on to her wrist all day in an attempt to copy the motif; but all she ended up doing was staring uselessly at the pale areas of her skin before they faded back to tan. 

 Something her father said made her raise her head, her interest suddenly piqued. "Wait, Papa, what did you say?"

 Dante cleared his throat before answering, the yellow lights strung above their table making his greying hair appear golden. "A series of bank robberies that they thought was performed by a team ended up leading back to one man." 

 "Bank..." she felt the ache again, like her mind was folding in on itself as it tried to remember. "Bank, what bank? The First National?" 

 Dante looked almost amused as he pushed his empty bowl to the side. "The First National Bank has been abandoned for years, Alexis, there would hardly be anything to steal." 

 Then it hit her. She closed her eyes again, this time doing her best to remember what the inside of her father's office looked like. He had papers strewn across his desk at all times, most displaying news articles of cases he had won. She could picture one vividly, with a picture taking up most of the first page, the date scrawled across the top from years before. 

 "May I be excused?" She began to rise from her seat before waiting on an answer. She picked up her still half full bowl, setting it into the sink and letting cold water rush over it until all traces of red had been washed down the drain. "I just remembered that I have to proof-read my paper for History." 

 Camila smiled, "that's our hard-working girl. And come and see me after, I have a skirt that I need you to model - my supervisor has been on me for weeks about starting a good line for teenage girls."

 "Gracias, Mama, I will." Lex said with a grin as she turned to run up the stairs. She didn't dare tell her mother how there was no way in hell that line would sell. Teenagers don't have much money as is, and not many are interested in wearing designer blazers to gym class. 

 Her fathers office was tucked into the corner of her house, directly across the hallway from her bedroom. She opened the door slowly, and walked on the tips of her toes so that her movement wouldn't be heard from below. She knew her father noticed when things were out of place, so she moved meticulously, shuffling through papers and replacing them in the same position as before. 

 After a moment, she spotted it. She pulled the article out from under a stack of files, and skimmed her eyes over the headline:

 FIRST-NATIONAL BANK ROBBED AFTER PERPETRATOR DRILLED INTO THE STONE VAULT.

And there on the front page, there was a large illustration. The picture was grainy, and Lex had to squint to make out the details of the small logo. She grabbed a pencil and a blank piece of paper, and hurriedly scribbled down all of the details she could. Then, abandoning all sense of punctility, practically ran down the hall to her room. 

 Lex liked to think that her room was a direct reflection of her personality. The walls were painted white, and her queen-sized bed was pushed into the corner, adorned by a white comforter and mounds of pink and blue pillows. Lights were strung up everywhere, along with floating shelves that held empty frames and fake plants. She had a pile of white canvases stacked by her closet, and finished ones were hung up haphazardly on the walls. Paint smudged her fluffy white rug, and the wall behind her bed was decorated with images of her life. They were mainly of her and Connie, but images of her squad, and even some with her parents were prominent as well.  

 Her picture wall was her prized possession, and she was very picky about what she put on it. Lex thought of her room as her haven, so to be incorporated into her haven, you would have to be very special. 

 Now, she folded her legs under her as she sat on her bed, sinking down into the pillow as she held the page up. She analyzed it for a moment, before raising her arm to compare.

 And despite her suspicion, she was still shocked when they matched perfectly.