'Never trust your tongue when your heart is bitter.' samuel j. hurwitt.

season 1, episode 5
the tell

To Neviah, February was the month of utter despair that cycled with the melancholy rain. The month would constantly drown her, forcing her to revive only to drown again. Since January was a month where everything died and withered, it was fitting for the floods to sweep through in February. It came in response to the fire. Another anniversary commemorates Neviah's failure to burn by wishing she could drown.

However, there was one more day before the floodgates would rise. And that day happened to be Allison's birthday.

"Lydia, I've moved the card like ten times. It's fine where it's at," Neviah exclaimed as she added a bow onto a present, while her head was tilted in an uncomfortable way to hear Lydia over the phone.

The girl groaned, flopping back into her bed. There was an incident the night before. Lydia and Jackson were at the video store when someone attacked it. They killed the worker, trashed the store, trapped Jackson, and left Lydia scarred. So, the girl stayed home from school as requested by her parents and guidance counselor.

"It needs to be perfect for her 17th birthday, Neviah. Perfect!"

Neviah rolled her eyes. Lydia learned Allison's real age after snooping through her wallet. Neviah urged her to kept it from Allison. She knew there had to be some embarrassment surrounding her age and grade level. Neviah stuffed the three balloons—there were five, but the other two didn't fit—inside Allison's locker. "If you wanted it to be perfect, you should have done it. But since you're at home, you have to deal with my version of perfection."

"Fine, fine! Whatever."

Silence took over as Neviah closed the locker. She sighed, running her fingers through her hair. Guilt nipping at her bare legs. Neviah never saw Lydia and herself as close. They were school friends who occasionally hung out after school, and sometimes they had fun if they were a little too drunk. Confiding in one another seemed too revealing for them.

"How are you feeling," she started as she walked down the empty halls, "you know, after last night?"

Lydia said nothing. The sound of her shifting in bed came through. Regret found Neviah. She said nothing yet managed to say everything. She cherry-picked knowledge of herself to give to Lydia. Revealing all her secrets would leave her just like everyone else.

Lydia also knew their relationship wasn't close. Now that Neviah thought about it, Lydia wasn't particularly close with anyone besides Allison and Jackson. She would try with Neviah, but Neviah would always decline. Something about her reminded Neviah of Lilith. She didn't need a replacement. Lydia certainly didn't deserve to become one unknowingly.

"Lydia?"

"I don't know, but I do know I just took some really nice medication. So, I'll tell you this one last time, if you mess up Allison's birthday, I'll make sure yours is a total bust."

Neviah chuckled sourly. Lydia would ruin her birthday if she truly wanted to. Even nine months before, she would remember it. "I won't ruin today, okay? Have a good sleep."

Lydia hung up, leaving Neviah feeling bad for once. The redhead needed someone, anyone, and no one was there. She couldn't seek it in Allison and take away her special day. And for some reason, she wouldn't ask Jackson for it. Her parents finalized their divorce, leaving her with an emotionless father and an emotional mother. Lydia never would have asked.

Neviah decided she was going to take matters into her own hands and visit Lydia after school.

Down the hall, Malikai spotted Neviah. He waved as she spotted him as well. Instead of waving, Neviah turned away, eyes glued to her phone.

She found a note in her pocket after coming home from Ray's the other day. It was all nonsense, except the part that stated Malikai was hiding something. Neviah had always known that fact. It was in her handwriting, though she didn't remember writing it.

It was all confusing.

Still, the girl pretended because that's what she knew best. She pretended she didn't know something was happening behind her back. She pretended she didn't care that her closest friend was hiding something from her.

And she pretended that she was fine with the fact that she had no one to talk to about it.

Half the day had gone by when Neviah entered Chemistry, the class she had with all of the teenagers on the mysterious note. Luckily, Scott disappeared this morning, along with Allison—Neviah was definitely not telling Lydia that she never saw Allison today. Everyone else, on the other hand, was there.

And they were annoying.

"Harley, don't you think it's rude to ignore your best friend?" Malikai asked loudly.

"I mean if you were my best friend, I'd for sure ignore you," Harley responded with a smirk.

Malikai threw a paper ball at her head. "I don't know why I asked you, you ignore your friends for fun."

Harley rolled her eyes, turning forward to pretend she was making notes. She tapped Neviah with her elbow, only to be ignored. "You're ignoring me, too?"

The Degrace pretended she didn't hear a thing.

She didn't need to be involved in whatever they were hiding. Curiosity may have grown in her, but she didn't let it fester any further. Trouble was bound to follow. They were involved with Derek and that was enough of a reason for Neviah not to bother. If they wanted to relive the past, so be it. She buried it six feet under and had no intention to start digging for answers.

Harley turned back to Malikai, nodding her head towards Neviah with furrowed brows. Neviah wished they hadn't wordlessly patched their relationship. It hurt more. The last Neviah recalled; Harley hated secrets. It always ended in someone being excluded. Here she was doing it now.

She buried herself in future work. The only issue was focusing on what she intended to do. Her mind continued to question why the people around her were lying, and why she couldn't remember. Why did she feel off today?

And why the hell was her body constantly moving?

Her leg hadn't stopped bouncing since she sat down. Her pen waved in her hand and through her fingers whenever she wasn't writing notes. Neviah was well acquainted with anxiety; however, she covered it well. Yet today, everything felt off. She couldn't hide how she felt. It became visible for all to inspect and judge. She felt their gazes. Students wondered how Neviah Degrace became weak, and how long it would last before she exploded.

If it wasn't for her perfect attendance, Neviah thought she should have done what Allison and Lydia did and skipped.

Stiles walked to the front, messing with his broken pencil. He stopped at the pencil sharpener that was on the wall in front of Neviah. His eyes continuously flickered to her. Words bubbled against his Adam's apple.

And for once, Neviah couldn't pretend she didn't notice.

She met his eyes. His gaze softened the moment they locked hers. Glancing back at Harley, who was dealing with Malikai and his thoughts, Stiles dropped a folded paper on Neviah's notebook. She snatched it and waited for him to walk away.

are u ok?

Neviah looked back at him. His features spelled out concern for her. An irritating thing to be seen. Lights illuminated the wrong version she wished to present. Her performance faltered under the heat of the bulbs. A do-over couldn't be called. To explain what went on in her mind was a death sentence. Tomatoes would be thrown. How does one fail at the one thing they are good at? An imposter.

Harris silently walked over as Neviah was distracted. He dropped a book onto her table as he did anytime the people around her were distracted. Neviah jumped at the sudden sound, snapping to look at her teacher.

"I'd appreciate it if you all would focus on your work instead of each other," Harris instructed, narrowing his eyes at Neviah and Stiles. "But for right now, focus on me."

"Just a friendly reminder—Parent-teacher conferences are tonight," Mr. Harris announced to the class in his usual monotone voice that always seemed to be filled with snark. "Students below a "C" average are required to attend."

Neviah had never needed to go to one of those conferences. She would always hear her dad playfully complain before and after about having to go. He would say, "I know my kid is smart, I raised her." And Neviah would say, "Then go listen to them praise your hard work."

And he would always return with her favorite meal as a celebration for her hard work. He never stayed long for the food to go cold in his presence. Someone else always needed him. A case to be solved. Clues to be found. A daughter to not raise.

"I won't name you, because the shame and self-disgust should be more than enough punishment." How could someone as evil as Harris ever become a teacher? "Has anyone seen Scott McCall?"

He stared down at Stiles, who instead of listening, decided to highlight his textbook.

Harley glanced at Neviah, expecting a comment about him going back on his word to slip out. Instead, she found Neviah fiddling with her ring. Twisting it back and forth, up and down, not caring how it pinched her skin if she rolled it too fast.

The door opened, taking away everyone's attention to the Whittemore entering late. Everyone knew what happened last night. They stared at Jackson, wondering if he would break or even bend a little. They treated him as if he was the thinnest piece of glass, despite giving them every reason to prove he was a prick, like a cactus.

Neviah paid no mind to him. They were all in the same predicament. Her interests were in the seconds it would take for the final bell to ring before her dad would pick her up and take her to Lydia's. She didn't want to be surrounded by judgmental eyes any longer. Her goal was to be the surgeon, not to be the patient. She wished to fix the problems and keep any more from budding. But she became voluntold to be observed by people who only wanted her to have more problems; to remain on the bed with her organs displayed.

The eyes of a concerned boy returned to her. She felt his gaze and didn't need to turn around to know Stiles was watching her. He wanted an answer to a question she could easily answer.

There was nothing to be concerned about in Neviah's mind, she was fine. And if she wasn't, she would have to pretend to be. Either way, Stiles would never know.

That's what she was good at.

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Neviah's hands still shook even after school as she sat in her dad's truck, fiddling with the hem of her sweater. They shook even as she ran her hands through Lydia's red strands. However, the redhead was too high to notice. Lucky for Neviah then.

Lydia laid comfortably in Neviah's lap, messing with the girl's skirt. She melted into Neviah's body the moment Neviah sat down on her purple bed. It was comforting, not only for Lydia but for Neviah. Someone wanted her close, not caring about the bad parts of her. Lydia didn't pry. She didn't view Neviah as something to fix.

Then again, she was too high to be bothered to care.

They hadn't spoken much besides greetings and Lydia's odd excitement for Neviah being there. Lydia's mom gave her the rundown of how the girl was feeling as she led her upstairs. Immediately, they became comfortable in each other's silence.

"Why don't we do this more?" Lydia asked gently, breaking said silence.

Neviah paused, hovering her hand over the red locks. Lydia turned over, staring up at her. Her eyebrows touched as she observed Neviah with glossy eyes. Everything may have been numbed, but Neviah could see that it also heightened everything.

She knew the truth. There was no reason why they didn't do this. Neviah kept herself away from Lydia because she believed it to be better. With Lydia, her "friends" were dolls to her. She used them for whatever she desired and tossed them if they were of no use. Lilith was the same, and Neviah was her favorite doll. She only wanted her, and for her to only want Lilith. She used to be blind to it, but she knew now of the parasitic friendship.

She didn't need it again.

Neviah kept her distance from everyone who wasn't Malikai—ironically, she barely showed herself to him. It was too much to reveal herself that way. Her bones were her own to inspect and critique, she didn't like the idea of displaying them for even one other person.

"Do you not like me?" Lydia inquired as her voice cracked.

"If I didn't like you, we wouldn't be friends," Neviah explained as if that were true. She was like Lydia in that way, using people as pawns to lead herself to victory.

"Why aren't we friends like you and Malikai then?"

An incomparable comparison. No one could be compared to Malikai in terms of Neviah's relationships with them because of history. It applied to Harley as well. But history meant nothing when the relationship had shattered. Slow minuscule cracks that started at the beginning, but over time they grew. Neviah saw them grow. And she watched them cause the break.

Malikai and she were as close as they were a few years ago. They were meters apart if her circles of trust were made into a diagram. He was still the closest person to her. She didn't trust him, the same way as he didn't trust her. He lied and lied until she forced herself to ignore it. She would pretend and pretend until...well, who knew the ending?

"Don't compare friendships," Neviah said as she continued to rack her fingers through Lydia's hair. She gulped, glancing up at her reflection in the mirror. "Maybe when you aren't high as a kite."

The girl giggled at the comparison. She lost herself in her mind, giggling silently at nothing and everything.

A knock on the door made Neviah perk up. Lydia's mom opened it with someone behind her. She stepped forward as did the person. Stiles. Neviah's shoulders tensed. Harley followed after.

"Honey, there's a Stiles and Harley here to see you," Ms. Martin said softly. She believed her daughter was like Jackson, a piece of glass.

Lydia's giggle fit paused. She locked eyes with Neviah, furrowing her brows. "What the hell is a 'Stiles'?"

Neviah chuckled, glancing up at Stiles. Which made Lydia giggle. Ms. Martin explained to the two that Lydia took something for her nerves. She allowed them to come in.

Neviah's stomach churned as he moved closer. She always hated his observant mind, always wanting a reason for something. She never realized she only hated how he would observe her and know something was wrong. He always knew.

"Hey, Lydia, I'm going to go step out so you guys can talk, okay?" Neviah said, lifting Lydia to move.

The girl pouted, knitting her brows. "You stay, Miles and Harley can go."

"That's rude, Lydia. I'll be back in five minutes with cookies." The mention of food lit Lydia's eyes up. She complied, sitting up on her own.

Neviah turned, meeting Stiles' eyes, which were already watching her. He was always watching her.

"Actually, Neviah, I need to talk to you, too," he rushed out, worried she would leave before he could even speak.

She stepped out the door, pulling it closed. "Don't."

His eyes softened when she said that. As if he was disappointed, which made no sense to Neviah. She gave him the opportunity to be with the girl he supposedly liked. Him and Harley could decide who got to confess first. He could tell her how he felt or waste the opportunity and talk to her about nothing that mattered. It was up to him.

The door opened again. Stiles swiftly went through, closing it behind him.

"What are you doing?" Neviah threw her hands up, rushing towards him. She knew what he was doing. She did not want to, but she did. She wished everything to be the way she wanted it. "Go talk to Lydia."

"What's going on with you?" Stiles questioned in a whisper. As if he went any louder, she would break. As if she were the glass that everyone else around her was.

"What?"

He pulled her away from the stairs to keep Ms. Martin from listening. His touch transferred a static shock only she felt. He made her senses go haywire. "You've been off for weeks, Neviah. You can't keep lying and saying you're fine when it's extremely obvious you're not."

Neviah scoffed, rolling her eyes, and moved her head with it. She shook off his hand. "I am fine, I've been fine, and I will continue to be fine. There's nothing wrong with me."

His hands went up as he scrunched, his eyes closed. "You're lying!"

"Why do you even care?" Neviah accused, crossing her arms. People saw her as breakable glass; people wanted her to be as breakable as glass. But she wasn't. She broke once and only once. Her broken glass pieces were thrown into the ocean in her young hands and returned as beautiful, tough sea glass. She made sure of it.

Neviah Degrace was not breakable. Not again. She wouldn't let it happen.

Stiles stopped in place. His features knitted, conflicted by his own thoughts, beliefs, and wants. He stepped back, dropping his shoulders. "...I don't know, okay? I just do, so could you please stop lying and tell me what's wrong?"

Why couldn't he pretend like she did? She knew the answer but hated it. It rotted within her. It showed her who she truly was. Cold, heartless, and cruel. Turning her organs inside out for her to face it. She was a coward. It was in her blood. She longed to be seen but detested the result of it. She became weak in the face of something good.

She would not break again.

I'm saving you. Why couldn't he see that? Her walls towered over her for a reason. She stood far from others for the good of herself and them. Her bones were hers to hold close and bare alone. She didn't know of the disease that grew inside her marrow but knew it had to be there. It lingered in her DNA from her maternal side. She was sure of it. Otherwise, she would know parental love. It was a simple equation. If her mother couldn't love her enough to stay—if her father couldn't love her enough to be present, she couldn't be loved.

Certainly not by him.

"What's wrong is people thinking they know anything about me because we used to hang out as children," she started, narrowing her eyes at him. "What's wrong is people assuming something is wrong with me because I'm having an off day." Her finger prodded against his chest. "What's wrong is you think just because we have sex every once in a while, that you suddenly mean something to me."

His demeanor fell.

"You don't, Stiles. We weren't friends before; we aren't friends now," Neviah spat, feeling the words fall out as if they had been shouted at her before. Most likely because they were.

Stiles recognized the words. They rolled off of his tongue once upon a time.

"I'm calling our deal off," she said shortly after shooting him in the heart metaphorically. "You can go back to your life, and I'll go back to mine. And we stay out of each other's way."

She didn't care if he agreed or disagreed, if he had something to say, or if he didn't. Neviah left without a care or knowledge that Stiles' heart may have shattered at that very moment because of her shot. He didn't know why it hurt, but it did.

God, it hurt so much. 

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not only is this chapter short asf but I didn't really proofread it. oh well. I hope you guys like it!

I don't really have much to say, besides the fact that our boy stiles is in DEEP. like choosing to talk to Neviah over Lydia? whew, he's in love.

but they aren't getting together anytime soon, soo... :)

anyway tell me your thoughts, theories, or random stuff! I love talking to you guys, it helps me stay motivated to update <3

Edited: 11/13/2024