TWELVE | WHEN THE PARTY'S OVER

xii. the water fight

A WIDE, JOYFUL GRIN ADORNS Charlotte's features as she turns the black leather steering wheel sharply to the left. Tires squeal against asphalt as it swings around the corner. Her best friends, who were not expecting the manoeuvre, slam into their respective sides of the car and grunt in pain. "What the fuck?" one of them calls out incredulously.

She locks eyes with the boy in the rear-view mirror as she retorts, "Scott, you said go faster. I'm going faster!"

As she makes another abrupt turn, Stiles and Scott once again collide with the sides of the car. "Yeah, but not this fast!" the werewolf yells.

"Oh, come on. I finally get to live out my GTA fantasy." She grins. Her smile disappears. Stiles' brows shoot up. "Shut the hell up, McCall."

Slamming her foot down on the gas pedal, the girl glances to the side mirrors to realise that their pursuers are alarmingly close behind. The Camaro's engine revs, and the vehicle suddenly shoots forward.

Scott's hand flies up and he clings to the panic rail situated on the roof.

Stiles, whose eyes are wide with adrenaline, exclaims from the passenger seat beside her, "Oh, fuck yeah!"

Charlotte looks in the mirror once again before letting out a loud laugh of pride. She sticks her middle finger out of her now wound down window. "See ya later, bitch!" she yells.

"They're gone," Scott states in shock.

She scoffs. "Don't look so surprised at my incredible driving skills."

He bites back a smile, and Stiles grins as he turns on the police radio. "All units, suspect is on foot heading into the Iron Works."

Charlotte's smile widens, whilst Scott groans loudly in frustration. "Come on, not again," he protests.

"Oh, yes." Turning the wheel to the left, the car accelerates faster, until it skids to a sudden stop. The occupants in the vehicle both jerk forwards then their seatbelts lock, stopping them from flying forward and through the front windshield. She yells out of Stiles' window, "Get in!"

With bullets showering around him like a rainstorm, Derek Hale's head snaps up and he sprints over to his car, flinging himself into the backseat that Scott had opened the door for. As soon as the door closes, Charlotte floors it and they lurch forward once more.

"You bitch! Slow down!" Scott shrieks.

"Hang on." The vehicle flings itself around yet another corner, and all three men crash into each other or against the car. "What part of lying low don't you understand, you fucking idiot?" she yells at Derek, glancing over her shoulder briefly.

The man glowers at all three of them. "Damn it," he snaps. "I had him!"

Charlotte, concentrating on the road, notices Stiles out of the corner of her eye turn around in his passenger seat to participate in the conversation occurring in the back. "Who, the Alpha?" he questions.

"Yes! He was right in front of me and then the fucking police showed up."

Once noticing that there's no one tailing behind them, she eases off the gas pedal. All her passengers visibly relax.

"Woah! Hey, hey, hey!" Stiles defends his dad. "They're just doing their jobs—" He gulps when he becomes the victim of Derek's glare.

"Yeah, well, thanks to someone who decided to make me the most wanted fugitive in the entire fucking state!"

Scott grimaces. "Can we seriously get past that?" he asks, both hopeful and exasperated.

"No," Derek and Charlotte exclaim together.

"Look, I made a dumbass mistake—"

"No shit, Scott!" she confirms. "The worst dumbass mistake you've ever made!"

"Okay, I get that!"

Stiles sighs and tires to defuse the argument from turning violent. "All right. Charles, you and Derek can bond over Scott's idiotic behaviour another time." She rolls her eyes, and Scott scoffs. He looks to the older werewolf with raised eyebrows. "How did you find him?"

Scott groans in irritation when they receive no response. "Can you try to trust us for at least half a second?"

"Yeah, all of us!" Stiles adds pointedly. Charlotte stifles a laugh as she watches Stiles next to her turn back around in his passenger seat to face the front. Looking extremely frazzled from Derek's scowl, he recollects his words. "Okay, how about you trust her a little more than the rest of us? I'll be right here..."

Derek sighs before meeting the driver's eyes in the rear-view mirror, then he looks sideways to Scott. He purposefully ignores Stiles. "Fine," he concedes in agreement. "The last time I talked to Laura, she was close to figuring something out."

"Well? Spit it out."

"She found two things. First, it was about a guy named Harris."

All three teenagers appear to have the same reaction: their jaws all drop in disbelief. They definitely didn't see this coming.

"Wait, our chemistry teacher?" Stiles exclaims in shock.

Charlotte's eyes narrow as she mutters, "I always knew he was gonna end up in something like this..."

"Why him?" Scott chirps up in confusion.

"I don't know yet," Derek replies, tone curt and impatient.

The car is filled with an uncomfortable silence for half a minute. Charlotte clears her throat. Her fingers drum against the steering wheel impatiently. "Okay! Second thing?"

Pulling a piece of paper out of his pocket, Derek moves it forward to the console so the pair in the front can also see. "Some kind of symbol," he says. Charlotte's eyes widen the second she sees the sketch, and similarly, Scott throws his head back with a groan. She looks at Derek through the mirror again, and he gestures for her to expand. "Charlotte, what?"

She sighs. "That design, it's the same as Allison's necklace," she says.

Derek stares at her for a few moments, then looks to Scott who hesitantly nods his head in confirmation. He growls. "Oh, for fuck's sake!"

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"It's going to be impossible, you know?" Scott points out as his friends trail behind him into school.

"You could just ask her to, you know, borrow it?"

Charlotte yawns and turns to Stiles with pinched brows. "And what would he say, Stiles? Oh yeah! My friend, who actually isn't my friend and is wanted for murder, would like to see if your necklace has anything to do with this giant, supernatural, murderous dog that I myself need to kill to be able to stay alive so then we're able to rekindle our dying flame?" She smiles. "Sound 'bout right?"

Stiles snickers.

Scott rolls his eyes. "Neither of you are helping," he scolds lightly.

"Scott, why don't you just talk to her?" Stiles suggests.

She purses her lips. "Oh, that is not a good idea," she voices. "Like, at all."

Scott nods his head. "Yeah. Plus, she won't talk to me! What if she... I don't know, only takes it off in the shower?"

Charlotte scrunches up her nose. "So, this obviously isn't going to work," she concludes. She quickly glances to Stiles. "Before you say, go sneak into her house and steal it," she spins to Scott, "And before you agree to that... How about you leave it to the person Allison can actually tolerate and stand in a room with for more than a minute?"

Scott vigorously nods. "Yep, much better idea."

"Great! All right, people! We have a mission." Stiles points to Charlotte as he says, "Get the necklace. We get the giant murderous dog." He then points to Scott. "Get cured. And get Allison! In that order! Go, go, go!"

It's approximately an hour later as she's heading to her locker to exchange books for classes that Charlotte notices Scott and Jackson down the hallway. Her eyes narrow sceptically at the scene, and she reroutes her path toward them.

Whatever they're talking about can't be good.

With her arch-nemesis's back facing her, she catches part of their conversation. Just one sentence is enough for her to begin to panic. "I know what you are, McCall," Jackson says.

She internally prays that her best friend isn't stupid enough to reply.

Scott shakes his head and nervously swallows the lump in his throat. "What?"

"I. Know. What. You. Are."

"I have no idea what you're talking about."

"Yeah, yeah, you do!" Jackson retorts accusingly. "And here's the thing, however it is you came to be what you are, you're gonna—"

He's swiftly interrupted by Charlotte walking between him and Scott and shoving him backwards. "Okay! Fuck off and find someone else to taunt," she snaps. Jackson glares at her and goes to talk before she tuts. "I wouldn't unless you want me to punch you again. Because I've already passed this year, so another detention surprisingly isn't going to hurt my record. Neither would a suspension..." An innocent smile adorns her face.

"You know too, an—"

"Sorry, did you just say something? Because I just threatened to punch you if you did. And if I remember correctly, you were actually in pain the last time. Am I right?"

She motions back to Scott who is anxiously fidgeting with his fingers. He quickly nods along in support of his best friend.

"And, this is just my personal opinion here, but I don't think hitting a girl in public would look too good for you. You know, got the whole lacrosse captain image to uphold and all, yeah?" Jackson scowls at her and it only deepens when her sardonic smile returns. "Yeah. Bye-bye now!"

He scoffs and walks backwards as he continues talking to them. "If it's a bite, a scratch, sniffing magic fairy dust under the moonlight, whatever! You're going to get it for me. Both of you. Or Allison's gonna find out, too."

"Uh huh! Go fuck yourself!" Charlotte yells. Her voice softens as she turns back to her friend. "Hey, are you okay?"

Scott nods slowly and lets out a deep sigh, resting his head against his locker door. "Thanks," he says appreciatively.

"That's what I'm here for. To save your ass. Constantly." He rolls his eyes and grins as she loops their arms together, walking off to find Stiles. "No, honestly, if I wasn't here, you'd be dead. Seriously. Dead. Six feet underground."

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"How the fuck did he find out?"

Scott clenches his jaw. "I have no idea!" he says defensively.

Stiles groans in frustration. "Okay, but did he say it out loud? The word?"

"What word?"

"Werewolf!" Stiles hisses. Charlotte slaps his arm, and he shrieks in pain before correcting himself and quietly repeating, "Did he say, 'I know you're a werewolf'?"

The girl shakes her head. "Nope! Charlotte came to the rescue just in time." She grins proudly at her own words, and Scott huffs a sigh.

"Well, he probably would have!" Stiles adds. "It was implied, very fucking strongly."

She grimaces. "From what I heard... yeah, it wasn't good."

"Maybe it's not as bad as it seems!"

Scott and Charlotte stop and spin around to Stiles. "How is this not terrible for wolf boy?" she counters, gesturing to Scott who rolls his eyes.

"He doesn't have any proof, right? And.... And.... If he wants to tell someone, who exactly is going to believe him?" Stiles smiles smugly, confident that he's managed to reassure them that everything's going to be okay.

"Allison's father?" Scott proposes, throwing his hands up in the air.

Stiles' smile immediately drops. "Ah..."

Charlotte sighs. She gently pats Scott's shoulder. "Yeah, this isn't looking good at all for you," she tells him grimly.

"I need a cure. Right now."

"Wait, cure?" she questions in confusion. "Scott, who the fuck said anything about a cure?"

"No one," he replies quickly. "But if there is one, I need it."

Stiles nods in agreement. "Good idea! Brilliant idea. Okay, does Jackson know?"

"Know?"

"About Chris, Scott! Allison's father? Her families' side profession?"

Scott's eyes widen in alarm. "Oh my God! I don't think so," he hesitantly responds.

Stiles takes a deep breath and tries to move on before the boy can panic any further. "Okay, next. Charlie, where's Derek?"

"I'm going to brush past why you're always asking me. He's meant to be in hiding, exactly like we told him to... Why?"

"All right, so I have an idea..."

She holds a hand up. "No, no," she interjects swiftly. "Stop." Stiles' eyebrows raise. "I'm already in."

Scott snorts at her eagerness. "Dude, you don't even know what it is," he points out.

"Shh," Stiles hisses to him. "She already said yes."

"But—"

"Don't care," Charlotte shrugs. "My life isn't exciting enough anymore."

"But we literally just—"

"Scott, stop talking. Stiles continue."

"It's going take a little time to pull off," he admits. "And needs..." The boy with the buzzcut turns back to her.

She closes an eye and reluctantly asks, "What?"

"Someone with the supremely mastered talent of manipulation."

"Ah." Her grin returns. "My specialty."

Stiles clears his throat. "Okay, do you have a plan for Allison?" he asks.

She nods. "I think so."

"Well? Don't keep us in suspense!"

"Right. I'm going to try and drag her to the pools this afternoon." Charlotte's eyes meet Scott's. His widen. "That's when I need you."

"Me?" he questions dubiously. "What? Why me?"

"You, Scotty, are going to steal said necklace."

"Steal...?"

"Fine! Borrow for an abnormally large amount of time." Stiles chuckles at her correction. Charlotte's demeanour turns into something serious as she adds, "But please don't try anything else before that. My plan is literally riding on you not fucking this up. Please, I'm begging you, do not fuck this up."

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So, that wasn't going to plan.

Or more like, it was going to plan until English rolled around.

Sitting beside Allison, Charlotte's narrowed eyes follow Scott's every step as he enters the classroom and immediately eyes the desk on the other side of the brunette.

His best friend subtly shakes her head at him and mouths, Don't you fucking dare. She places her head in her hands when Scott ignores her and walks over to them, ready to put his books down.

Thank the lords above for Lydia Martin.

The strawberry blonde slams her folders down onto the desk, and with a pointed look, she tells Scott, "Find another row."

Blowing out a breath of relief, Charlotte smiles at her sister, then turns around in her seat to glower at Scott now behind her. The boy cowers away from her ever so slightly. "Scott, shut up! Is that so hard?" she whispers, knowing he can hear her as clear as day.

She pulls her textbook out at the teacher's instructions, the rest of the class doing the same. And then she watches Scott lean forward to his (ex?) girlfriend. "Allison—"

"Scott," Charlotte hisses to him whilst pretending to concentrate on her reading. He hesitates. "Did. I. Stutter?"

"Fine! Just, Allison, I have some stuff on my phone... Um, I was going to send them to you. I thought you might like it?"

Charlotte Martin wants to throw herself into oncoming traffic. Apparently, it's opposite day and no one had been nice enough to inform her.

Allison looks extremely reluctant to talk to him, but still answers with, "Okay..."

"Scott," Charlotte murmurs under her breath. "Abort, abort!" She sighs when she comes to the terrible and exceptionally irritating understanding that he is purposely ignoring her.

She isn't a fan of love-sick Scott. In fact, she rather hates him.

Their teacher's voice fades into the background as Charlotte watches Allison pause after opening her phone. After a few seconds of staring at it, she snaps the device shut and grabs her things before running out of the classroom. "Nice one," Charlotte says sarcastically.

Scott looks back at her with wide eyes, like he has no idea what he's done wrong. Now she wants to shove him into oncoming traffic.

Charlotte shoves her books into her bag and hurries out after the girl. She jogs out to find the hallway empty and calls out, "Allison?"

Sobs are heard in response, and she turns to find the brunette sitting on the stairwell with tears streaming down her cheeks.

"Oh, God..." She dumps her bag on the floor and engulfs her friend into a tight hug. "Do you want me to punch him? 'Cause right now, I really feel the need to punch him."

Allison weakly laughs and pulls back, furiously wiping her tears away only for more to reappear. "No, no I—"

She chokes up, and Charlotte grabs onto her hands. "Hey! Hey, Alli, look at me." The girl sniffles and meets her eyes. "I don't know what just happened, but I'm realising that you probably don't want to talk about it." Before Allison can protest, she adds, "And that's completely fine. I'm here to listen if you want." She smiles softly and brushes the leftover tears with her thumb. "But if you don't, I'm also here to take you somewhere."

Allison's eyebrows furrow with confusion. "Huh?"

"Do you know if the pools are open this afternoon?" A smile returns to the girl's lips as Charlotte continues. "Because I have to show you some rather incredible water fighting skills." A laugh carries throughout the hall and Charlotte, achieving the goal to lift her mood, brightly smiles. "Okay then, come on."

"But class?" Allison points out the obvious.

"Eh, fuck school." Charlotte snaps her lips shut at the amused look the brunette gives her. "For the day," she corrects. "Fuck school for the day."

Allison grins and grabs onto her outstretched hands. "I am so taking you down," she confidently states.

A mocking laugh slips out of Charlotte's lopsided. "Uh huh," she says sarcastically. "Sure you are, Argent. Whatever you say."

Loud laughter is the first thing to reach her as she breaks through the surface of the water. Charlotte spins around, blinking repeatedly from the chlorine in her eyes, and spots the slightly blurred figure of her friend halfway down the pool. She grins. "Watcha doing all the way back there?" she taunts with a snicker.

Allison rolls her eyes. "You cheated!" she exclaims.

"Cheat?" Her eyebrows raise at the approaching brunette. "How could I possibly cheat in a swimming race?"

Shrugging, Allison starts to pick up her pace of wading through the water. "You started before me," she states pointedly.

Charlotte's teeth sink into her lip as she tries to hide the grin wanting to appear. "Maybe I did, maybe I didn't." Allison smiles. "Shame we don't have any witnesses to cross-check it."

Her smile instantly drops when water is flicked into her face. Allison falters, unable to tell if she's just made a bad decision or not. "Oh, I—" But she's interrupted as her friend lurches forward to dump handfuls of water over her in retaliation. Allison stands still in shock, eyes narrowing at the innocent smile plastered on Charlotte's face. "Oh, you bitch," she whispers.

The two quickly engage themselves in an incredibly violent water fight, until one manages to tackle the other underwater.

Charlotte kicks off the floor and swims back up, gasping for air after involuntarily swallowing mouthfuls of chlorinated water. She coughs a few times. "Okay, I forfeit," she declares. "You win! You definitely..." Upon noticing how close they're standing next to one another, her voice lowers to a whisper. "Win."

The chaotic sounds of teenagers swimming around them suddenly morphs into something tranquil and soothingly quiet to her ears. They're like a white noise machine.

As Allison's eyes widen ever so slightly and she clears her throat, Charlotte snaps out of her dazed-like-state to flick another wave of water back at her. Allison gasps in horror. "Charles," she exclaims. "You said—"

"I said you won. I didn't say you would win this one."

Allison giggles as her opponent quickly darts away from her, attempting to dodge any incoming splashes.

Charlotte is too distracted to remember the fact that Scott was supposed to be taking the necklace.

Actually, she had completely forgotten about everything they were meant to do the minute she had chased after Allison.

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Twirling hair around her fingers, Charlotte squeezes the water out and watches as the droplets fall to the floor. As she unlocks her locker to return her gym bag, she happens to overhear a conversation occurring a few metres down the hallway from her. She multitasks pulling her books out for the next class and eavesdropping.

It probably won't take long before she has to insert herself into the argument, though. No, not long at all...

"Jackson! This little text? Not funny."

"No, Lydia. I wasn't trying to be funny. If I was trying, I would have put a 'haha' at the end of it. And would you look at that. There's no 'haha.'"

Charlotte's jaw clenches. She has a vivid mental picture of exactly what Jackson Whittemore most likely looks like right now. And she'd be lying if she said she didn't feel an intense urge to punch that smug smirk off his face once more.

"'Lydia, please give me back my spare house key at your earliest convenience, as we are no longer dating,'" Lydia reads aloud. Charlotte's eyes widen in disbelief as she slowly picks out her notebooks.

"Oh, Lydia," Jackson begins in a patronising tone. "You didn't lose it, did you?"

Lydia's voice raises. "What the fuck is this?"

"Well, Lydia, in preparation for some big changes, I've decided to drop some of the dead weight in my life... And you're just about the deadest."

"Oh, he did not just say that," Charlotte mutters angrily. She slams her locker closed, and nearby heads turn toward the commotion as they watch the girl storm over to the couple.

She gently moves Lydia aside, and whilst locking eyes with Jackson, she steps forward and completes her own wish as she punches him in the eye.

"What the fuck!" Both girls watch him stumble back, hands clutching the injury in pain.

Now Charlotte's the one wearing the smug smirk. She turns to see her sister with a wide smile on her face. "Are you okay?" she asks softly.

Lydia smiles. "I am now," she admits. "That was amazing!"

"That's my girl."

"Martin! My office. Now!"

"Ah, shit..."

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After leaving detention with a more than usual pissed off Mr Harris, Charlotte makes her way over to the Stilinski residence after having been the receiver of a Nine-One-One text from her best friend.

She parks her car beside the Jeep in the driveway and walks straight inside without bothering to knock. "Hey! Stiles, I got your text what's up—" Charlotte swings his bedroom door open, but her feet quickly plant themselves into the ground as she stops in the middle of the doorframe. She purses her lips at the sight of Stiles pushed up against the wall with Derek's elbow across his throat. "Um, do you want me to leave? 'Cause I can totally—"

"Charlotte. Shut up."

She hesitantly nods and closes the door behind her. "Right," she says. "Sorry, continue. I'm not here."

Stiles' eyes flick to her. "Dad's gone?" he asks her quietly.

"Nope, car's still there," she replies. She's thoroughly confused as to what's happening until Stiles' next words.

"Good. 'Cause, all I need to do is yell out, 'Hey Dad! Derek Hale's in my room. Bring your gun!'"

She had momentarily forgotten that Derek is a fugitive. And also that they're in the home of Beacon Hills' sheriff. Things could go sideways very quickly. She jumps onto Stiles' bed and crosses her legs whilst amusedly watching the scene unfold in front of her.

At Derek's silence, Stiles smugly smiles. "Yeah, that's right. If I'm harbouring your fugitive ass, it's my house," he hits the man's arm for added emphasis, "my rules, buddy."

After a tense few seconds, Derek curtly nods and releases him from his tight grip. He pulls Stiles' jacket down, and the boy lets out a confident laugh and does the same to Derek's.

Charlotte bursts into giggles when Stiles confidently walks away, but then jumps in fear and exclaims profanities as Derek suddenly jerks his head toward him.

"Right. Now that is done with..." Charlotte beams up at the man. "Hi, Derek! What happened to hiding from all the cops hunting you down?" Her smile slides off her face within seconds. "And I don't think you need me to mention how fucking stupid it is being in the house of the sheriff?"

He rolls his eyes at her rather loud shriek. "Did you find the necklace?" he asks.

Stiles raises his brows. "Yeah, did Scott get it?"

Charlotte slaps a hand over her mouth. "Holy motherfucking shitballs, I totally forgot," she mutters in frustration.

"What do you mean 'you forgot'?" Derek repeats irritably.

With wide eyes, she quickly pulls her phone out and dials Scott. After three missed calls, he finally picks up and she places puts the call on speaker. "Finally! Did you get the necklace?"

"Hi, Charles—"

"And Stiles! Derek here, too," Stiles calls out.

"Oh, hi everyone. I got it!"

"Did anyone see you?"

"I hope not... There wasn't anyone in the stands; I think most people were either in class or too distracted swimming. You guys looked like you were having fun."

Her cheeks start to blush a dark shade of pink, and, of course, Stiles doesn't miss this. His eyes narrow. Charlotte clears her throat. "Yep! Just distracting her from you being you. Okay, Scott, got to go. Bye." She hangs up and looks up to the two in the room already staring at her. "What?"

Stiles gives her a pointed look. "We are so talking about this later," he states, his tone leaving no room for debate.

She sighs. "There's nothing to talk about."

"All right, we got the necklace," Derek interjects their meaningless gossip. "Great."

Stiles adds, "Yeah, but there's something else." Charlotte and Derek both raise their brows to him in question. "The night at the school, remember how Allison was sent a message by Scott asking her to meet him there?"

The blonde-haired girl nods. "Yeah?" she says, a little confused to what he's getting at.

"So?" Derek asks, arms crossed over his leather jacket.

Stiles turns to him and sighs. "It wasn't Scott," he reveals.

The older werewolf stares at the pair sitting beside each other on the end of the bed. "Well, can you find out who sent it?" he presses impatiently.

There's a short beat of silence.

A grin suddenly appears on Charlotte's face. "Well, neither of us can," she admits. "But I definitely know someone who will for the right price."