CHAPTER NUMBER EIGHT:
season number four episode i.e.d!

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           OPHELIA STARED AT THE PIECE OF PAPER WITH CONFUSION. "What does this mean?" She asked, fear lacing her voice at the unknown. The feeling of her name being on a list surrounded by other supernatural people didn't feel good.

           "This is like a hit list for all the supernatural creatures in Beacon Hills." Lydia spoke up, scratching the chipped wood on the desk as she walked around. "And you happen to be one of the most rewarding people on that list. Which means others are going to come after you for their seventy five million dollars."

           Ophelia's face paled. "To kill me? You're telling me there's people trying to kill me because I'm on some stupid list?" She shook her head. "I—I don't want to be apart of this. I was only trying to help, not put me or my family in danger." Her words came out in a jumbled mess. "I should leave."

           "We can protect you." Called Derek, who had his arms crossed over his chest. "You just need to tell us what makes you special enough to be on the top of that list, Ophelia."

           The blonde felt overwhelmed by everyone staring at her. "I don't know." She whispered. "There's just something about me that makes me different from the others. I didn't choose it — it was given to me."

           "Riddles are overrated." Stiles said from behind her sarcastically. "Cut to the chase. Do we need to collect that reward because I think we could all use a couple million bucks." He shrugged, making Scott growl under his breath and send him a glare.

           "I have a thing called the sixth sense. I can talk to the dead who haven't carried on, or have some unfinished business." Ophelia explained. It was the same words her grandmother used to explain to her.

           "So like a ghost whisperer?" Malia asked from behind Lydia, her brunette hair popping out of the side as she questioned her.

           Ophelia nodded, and Lydia took another step closer. "Last night you said something to help me figure out the code to the benefactor list. You said a name. What was it?" She narrowed her eyes, as if she was trying to spot some kind of lie within her.

           "Allison."

           As if the name was forbidden to be spoken, people tensed. Even Scott had to look in the opposite direction to compose himself. "Do you see Allison, Ophelia?"

            She shifted uncomfortably, fiddling with her fingers. "Yeah — I do."

           For some reason, her chest tightened up as they all looked at her. All Ophelia wanted to do was burst out into tears of shame. She doubted any of them believed her, and she felt embarrassed. Sensing her sadness, Liam stood up from where he sat and walked over to her. "Maybe we should give her time to cope with this." He told Scott, grabbing her hand for reassurance. His thumb ran over her knuckles, hoping he'd calm down the beat of her heart. Clenching his jaw, Scott glanced at Liam and Ophelia's intertwined hands. For a second, Ophelia swore jealousy crossed his face. But as soon as it came, it disappeared just as quick.

           "Yeah," he coughed, scratching his neck. "You're right. Thanks for coming Ophelia." Scott dismissed, grabbing his bag from the floor and rushing out the library doors. Stiles furrowed his eyebrows in confustion as he raced after him.

           Ophelia looked at the crowd around her, before sighing. "I can't give you the answer you all want." With those final words, her and Liam turned to walk out of the library without turning back. But as the pair walked down the hallway, Ophelia couldn't shake a feeling that made it almost hard to breathe. She felt like someone was watching her — and not a person she felt was harmless.

           Swallowing her nerves, Ophelia looked at Liam. "Thanks for saving me back there. Most of the time I mouth off when I'm nervous, and other times I just completely clam up." She laughed quietly, shaking her head. "And I wanted to tell you sooner. I just didn't want you to see me differently."

           Liam scoffed. "I think you're pretty cool." He grinned, stopping by his locker to grab his books before heading to their classes. "I mean it's not everday you meet someone that has a sixth sense, you know?"

           Ophelia nodded in understanding. "It's not everyday you meet someone at a hospital because a werewolf's dead girlfriend tells you to." She hummed, fixing the collar of her shirt. "It's also not everday you end up on some supernatural hit list. What am I going to tell my family? Do I even tell them?"

            Liam looked at her with a small smile, using his hands to rest on her shoulder. "I don't plan on telling mine anytime soon. Just avoid the topic at all costs, and then it can't be considered lying because they didn't ask."

―•―•―•―•―

OPHELIA ABSOLUTELY HATED LYING TO HER FATHER. Especially when it came to something serious. Sitting in her room only a couple minutes before dinner, Ophelia paced around her room. Butterflies fluttered in her stomach as the thought of sitting with the two at the kitchen table, and avoiding the subject like Liam told her to. Lying didn't come easy to her. But she knew she'd have to learn sooner or later.

           "Come on, O." Allison said from beside her. "You can do this." She encouraged, trying to wipe the nervousness from her face. "If you look like a train is about to crash through your house they're gonna ask questions." She sighed, rubbing her shoulder.

            "Well I don't know if you're new here, but that could happen seeing that I'm some list that gives people seventy five million dollars to stop the air flow in my lungs!" Ophelia whispered shouted at Allison, tugging at her blonde hair. "A killer could burst through my front door at any given moment."

           "Actually, a killer would probably preplan everything and wait until you're alone to kill you," Allison deadpanned like it was the most obvious thing in the world.

           "Even better." Ophelia snapped sarcastically. "I'm a dead girl walking." She said to herself, and Allison gave her a glare. "Metaphorically of course." She corrected.

           Allison crossed her arms and smirked. "You won't have to be alone for long. Scott's right outside you're window." She informed Ophelia, cackling on the inside.

           Ophelia furrowed her brows in disbelief. Darting to the window, her nimble fingers pushed the lock open. "Scott?" She whispered shouted as she stuck her head outside. Sure enough, a shaggy haired werewolf shot his head up at the sound of her voice. "Scott what are you doing? Come up here!" Ophelia demanded, backing up so Scott had room to climb through. It took him a couple seconds, but Ophelia finally saw his brown hair pop up on the other side of the window frame. "Why are you just hanging on there?" She asked, tilting her head to the side. She watched Scott flush a bright pink as he awkwardly climbed through the window.

           "Why are you staking out outside my window?" Ophelia asked with a small smile. Scott let out a breath of relief when he realized she wasn't mad at him.

           "I just thought since I got you into this mess, I'd be the one to make sure you got out of it alive." He answered, scratching the back of his neck. "I—I can go home." He offered.

           Ophelia bit her bottom lip, and shook her head. "No. I'd like for you to stay." She blushed as red as she could get, and Scott couldn't help but grin at how bashful she became. "If you want to, obviously."

           "Ophelia! Dinner's ready!" She heard her mother scream from downstairs, and she looked at Scott alarmed. Looking at the door, to Scott, she jumped over her bed and dug underneath her pillow to find her laptop.

           "I'll be back as soon as I can," Ophelia promised. "I have my Netflix account set up if you'd want to watch something on there." She suggested, before running out the door and down the stairs frantically. Scott watched her leave dumbfounded, before shaking his head with a small laugh. Her goofiness seemed to always make his day a little better.

           Ophelia rushed down the stairs to see her parents already sitting at the dinner table waiting for her arrival. Mashed potatoes, meatloaf, and corn filled their plates as they conversed with eachother. "The princess has finally made it down." Her father chuckled, and Ophelia gently let out a laugh. She swallowed down the thought of Scott being left up in her room — where every embarrassing picture laid. Her clothes were scattered amongst the floor, and it wasn't until that moment she slapped her forehead and groaned. "Not a happy camper today?"

           All Ophelia wanted to do was shovel the food down her throat and make up some lame excuse to allow her to leave the table. "Peachy," she mumbled, stuffing her face with a fork full of the corn piled onto her plate. Olivia and Robert engrossed themselves into a conversation about a topic Ophelia didn't care to listen in to, as she continued to eat her food as if it was her last meal. All she could think about was what Scott could be doing. He'd probably get tired of waiting for her and leave. A frown took over her lips as she pictured herself running up to her room to see him gone, and the window wide open. Suddenly, she didn't feel so hungry anymore. Swallowing the last of her mashed potatoes, with only a few bites left of corn, and a full loaf of meat sitting in front of her — Ophelia cleared her throat. "I had a long day at school today, and I don't think I'll be able to finish all this."

           Olivia took a sip of her water and looked at her daughter up and down. "Well you look fine to me, Ophelia. Now eat you're food that I worked hard on making." She barked. Ophelia turned to her father with pleading eyes, knowing he'd be the one to let her off the hook. "Don't even bother asking your father, either." She interjected.

           "Oh come on, Olivia." Robert implored. "The kid works hard. She doesn't ask for much so I don't see anything wrong with letting her leave the table a couple minutes early." He defended, causing Ophelia to grin.

           Rolling her eyes, Olivia sighed and crossed her arms. "Of course you don't see anything wrong with it, Robert. You're barely home to pay attention to what goes on in this house!" Olivia hounded. "Did you know she asked to go to a party? And not to mention coming in past twelve like I told her. Ophelia's a good kid, I know that. But if we start giving in to everything she wants she'll become a menace that we won't be able to contain." Robert's eyes shifted for a minute. Ophelia's mother was always taking jabs at his work schedule — but never minded the money in brought in to this family. He knew it was just because she missed her husband, but it still didn't give her the right to snap at him and give him snarky attitude when he was home. Taking in a deep breath, Olivia turned to Ophelia. "You know what, it's fine. Go up to your room." She dismissed.

           Ophelia flickered her eyes over to her father, who nodded in response. Licking her lips anxiously, just pushed her chair out and stood up. "Thanks, mom. Thanks, dad. I love you." She declared, before turning her attention to the stairs. "And I promise I won't come in late again. It was a one time thing."

           Ophelia hated when her parents disagreed. It made her feel guilty most of their arguments were about how to raise her. Because while her mother wanted things in line, not one hair out of place, her father just wanted to have fun. He wanted to make irreplaceable memories that would live on forever. But life didn't come free, and to give his family a good home life, he had to work. Ophelia didn't hate him for it, or blame him for never being at home making those memories he wanted. However, Olivia did.

           Ophelia opened her room door expecting to find it empty, but she was pleasant surprised to see Scott sitting on the edge of her bed staring at the pictures on the wall. Smiling, she walked in and closed the door behind her. "I thought you'd be gone by now." She admitted, leaning her back against the wooden door. Biting her lip, a thought dawned on her. Scott was the first boy to be in her room without her parents knowing.

           It made her cheeks burn.

           "Why would I leave?" Scott asked. Truth was, he'd stay as long as she needed him to. "Someone needs to be here and makes sure the princess gets her fairytale ending one day." He chuckled.

           Looking up at him through her her dark lashes, her emerald eyes glimmered. "Princess, huh?" She giggled, walking over to where he sat. Nervously, she took a seat beside him. She turned her head slightly, to see him already staring at her.

           It was silent for a couple seconds. Ophelia felt her heart beating out of her chest. Her skin felt so warm, it was like Scott was setting her on fire. Scott's fingers twitched, as the teenagers glanced down to see their hands inches apart. Ophelia's cheeks turned a deep shade of red, as his hand skimmed hers. "You're certainly a princess to me." He whispered, bodly taking the initiative to intertwine his tan fingers with her pale ones. Ophelia held her breath — as she tighten her grip around his hand. "I—I think you're beautiful." Scott stuttered, his eyes flickering to her plump lips, licking his own.

          Ophelia could feel him leaning in, and panic set in. This was never the plan. This was Allison's boyfriend — well ex boyfriend. It still made no difference to her. As Scott's noses brushed her cheek, she took in some air before tearing her hand away from his. "I can't." She protested softly. "Not now."

           Scott reopened his eyes to peer down at her. He wanted to respect her thoughts, her decision. But his chest ached with the sudden rejection. "Is it something I said?"

            "No!" Ophelia said quickly. "Everything you said was perfect. Everything you always tell me is perfect. It's just —" the blonde turned her attention to the ground to examine her floor as she tried to direct her anxiety elsewhere. "I know Allison. I see her everyday. She's beautiful, and confident, and strong. She's amazing in every way possible. I could never be her, Scott. Or anywhere close for that matter." Coming to realization, Ophelia exhaled. "I'm just me. The bland Ophelia Cooper who never had friends."

           "You're right." Scott said bluntly. "Allison was all those things. I loved her." He uttered. "But she's not you. You both are two drastically different people, Ophelia. No one's asking you to be her. Right now, in this moment, I want to kiss you. I've been wanting to kiss you." Standing up, Scott stood in front of her. "I'm not looking for another Allison. I'm looking for Ophelia."

           A wave of a collection of emotions hit her. Nobody had ever told her that before. She had never known what it was like to be wanted by somebody else other than herself. Ophelia wasn't bold. But for right now, being herself wasn't an option. Without a word, she stood up. Her and Scott becoming eye level with eachother. All the two could do was stare, daring the other person to make the first move. Ophelia's blood pumped with adrenaline, and she reached out to cup his cheeks. "Looks like there's no going back."

           Her lips hit him by surprise, and Scott had to recall that this was real life. Coming to his senses hastily, his arms snaked around her waist as his lips ran against hers in a symphony. They felt smooth like butter — and Scott had never felt so euphoric. His body felt like he was being lifted on cloud nine. Ophelia wrapped her arms around Scott's neck, bringing him as close as he could get. She smiled within the kiss, and so did Scott. The problems in Beacon Hills seemed to wash away as they drowned themselves in eachother. Maybe it was too soon. Maybe they didn't know eachother that well yet. But they had all the time in the world.

           "No going back."