FOUR.   DON'T WORRY FOLKS, WE TOOK
OUT ALL HER TEETH

      By the end of third period, Lacy officially felt as if she was the class act of a circus. She felt like she was an animal trapped in a cage trying to claw her way out, all eyes on her, but she couldn't scream or cry because all of teeth were taken out. They all stared at her like she was something they'd never seen before but others acted like they were scared of her. She wasn't scary. She was gentle. She wasn't mean. She was tame. But of course that was all before she was taken. Maybe secretly, underneath all the blood and grime she'd been buried under, her gentleness had been destroyed. Maybe there was a maliciousness hidden inside waiting to break out of her. Perhaps it would break out sooner than later.

Seeing Hannah ripped open the stitches she tried so hard to mend. The wailing creature kept secret in her throat desperately tried to claw its way out, leaving marks on the walls. She felt like crying but she didn't. All the tears she had were dried up. She's shackled in pain, her worsts bloody and bone exposed. Her mouth hurts.

She's yet to see anybody she knows apart from her encounter with Scott. She's not seen Lydia and Lacy wonders if she'd rather have it that way. She doesn't want Lydia to see her this way, so broken and on edge. They were the popular girls, the primadonnas, but now Lady knew they were on different levels. Lydia moved on and she stayed right where she was.

Coach Finstock was a character. That was the best way to put it. He spoke his mind, whatever was on his mind, without hesitation or a care what people thought. Lacy really hoped he wasn't like that with her today. Econ was always her favorite class but it was the middle of the semester. She couldn't possibly blend in now.

All eyes were on her when she walked into Econ. Her desk was occupied by Farah Smith. Lacy always sat in the front. She answered every question Coach Finstock asked. It's probably why he liked her so much. "Heyyy Lacy," coach said with his usual awkward laugh. He leaned in close to her, hovering his hand above her shoulder. "I understand things much better than hard right now, so, don't worry about trying to catch up right now. Just, uhhh, go with the flow."

Lacy just stared at him. "Thanks, coach." She mumbled.

"Okay." He muttered awkwardly and motioned to the empty seats that were beginning to fill up. "Pick your poison."

Egg shells crush under her feet as she walked to the back of the classroom. Eyes followed her every movement, all of them waiting for the caged animal to surprise them. She's a lamb thrown into a pack of wolves. I'm not a circus act, I'm a fucking person. Lacy sat down, the girl in the desk beside her squirms but tries to hide it with a cough into her elbow.

"Okay!" Coach Finstock announces, startling them all. "Let's see what you group of miscreants can remember for the upcoming midterm that I unfortunately am required to give out. So," he clapped his hands. "Who can tell me what welfare economics is the study of?"

It was the most basic question and yet Lacy couldn't open her mouth to answer.

Farah Smith's hand shot up in her desk. "The allocation of resources affects economic well being." She answered with confidence.

Finstock laughs again. "Nice one, Smith. I saw that answer on the internet, too."

The class laughs. Farah frowns. Lacy's lips curl into a smile.

"Alright, let's see. Can any of you tell me what deadweight is?"

No answer. It pulsed in the front of her brain. Lacy turned her head slightly, looking at everyone and seeing them struggle.

"Lacy," Coach Finstock spoke her name. He lifted his hands. "I know that you know this. Lay it on us."

Her heart rate spiked so fast that she felt nauseous. All eyes turned to her again, the wolves ready to attack the lamb. The circus animal on display. The girl who was kidnapped back and alive but she was different. Lacy blinked, hoping she was in a dream, but she wasn't. She's still in a nightmare.

"Uhhh, Lacy, don't leave me hanging here." Coach Finstock laughs after a couple minutes of her silence.

Lacy feels as if her lips are sewn shut again. She struggles to open her mouth and speak. Her voice is gone, the words stuck in her throat. Her hands start to shake, her anxiety increases, and the room feels like it's closing in on her.

"Poor thing. She can't even speak," a girl sitting on the other side of the room whispers to the girl behind her.

"Can't imagine how she's feeling." The other girl whispers back.

Lacy took the pencil on her desk and squeezed it to bring back feeling in her numb hands, but it caused them to shake more. She trembled. "I—" she tried to say but nothing else came out.

There was a crash and it startled everybody. Everyone looked away from Lacy and to the other side of the classroom. "Stilinski!" Finstock yelled. "I put you in the back of the class so you wouldn't raise my blood pressure any more than you already do. So stop doing it!"

Stiles Stilinski quickly raised himself off the floor. "Yes coach, yep. You got it." He stammered and climbed back in his desk, almost falling back out in the process.

"Deadweight, ladies and gentlemen. Stiles Stilinski. Jesus Christ all mighty." Coach exhaled deeply. "Alright, anybody else?"

Lacy exhaled the shakiest of breaths. Everybody in the classroom turned around and faced coach. She turned her head and saw Stiles looking at her already. He looked the same as he did the last time she saw him. Pale skin, buzzed hair, moles scattered everywhere, scrawny, spastic. His eyes widened and Stiles quickly looked away, slouching in his desk and rubbing his mouth very awkwardly.

She stared at her shaking hands. You're safe, Lacy. He's not here. He can't hurt you. Slowly, Lacy release the pencil from her grip and the shakiness in her hands died down.

"Lacy! Lacy!"

Lacy stopped walking and she turned around, almost colliding with Stiles. "Whoa!" He jumped back when he realized how close he was to her. "Sorry, sorry. My bad. My bad. Uhhh, I-I didn't expect you to be back so soon."

She blinked. "So soon?" She repeated. Lacy was very aware of how late in the school year it was. She wouldn't be surprised if she had to o summer school to catch up.

Stiles blinked. "Well, y-yeah. Hannah came back, like, right away. It was, uh, s-shocking." He stuttered.

The first time Samuel was hired at the Beacon Hills police station was also the same day Lacy met Stiles. She was ten and he was eleven. His hair was still buzzed (he never likes to bring up the mop haircut he had at fourteen) and he was scrawnier. His mom died when he was eight, hers when she was six, and it was the first thing they found out that they had in common. But they weee both shy which is why they weren't that close. They were friendly, acquaintances, she would always smile and say hi to him at school. Stiles was always kind to her.

Lacy blinked rapidly, breaking eye contact from him. She couldn't tell him or anybody that the reason she didn't come back to school was because she was in Eichen House. She had to be normal. Normal was the only way she could possibly go back to her old life. "I just needed time," she found herself saying.

"No, no, yeah. Of course." Stiles said swiftly while shaking his head. "My, uh, my dad's been worried about you. I didn't know if you knew that."

The corner of her lips turned upward. "Of course."

"He actually, uh—"

"Stiles!"

She looked over his shoulder and saw Scott standing at the end of the hall expectantly. Stiles quickly gave she'd again, his eyes wide and mouth gaped open. "Uhhh, I-I gotta go." He pointed over his shoulder. He started walking backwards. "But, uh, if you need anything, I'm around. Just find me anywhere—" he accidentally bumped into a group of people. "Oh shit, sorry. Uh—" Stiles chuckled nervously. "Right. Bye." He grabbed Scott's arm and dragged him away.

Lacy stared at them as the sprinted down the hallway. She released a short breath. It was the first normal interaction she had all day. Hearing her phone ring in her pocket, Lacy took it out and saw a text from her father.

Daddy-O
How's today going so far, sweetheart?

Raising her head, Lacy saw the people Stiles ran into looking at her, judging her with their eyes. She looked down at her phone again.

Lacy Lou
It's alright, daddy