i should hate you , scream [REWRITING]

???

"Always," I said with a half smile, grabbing my jacket from the chair and slipping into it. I cast one last look at her before heading out the door, the cool air of the hallway making me shiver as I stepped into the reality waiting outside.

———

I threw the flashcards to the floor in mock frustration. "Wes, how are you this bad at math?" My voice carried a blend of disbelief and amusement.

Wes flopped back on his bed, his arms sprawled out like he'd just been knocked out in a wrestling match. "I told you I needed help!" He laughed, the sound light but edged with the exhaustion of an hour long battle with algebraic functions.

I pressed my palms to my eyes, groaning. "I can't believe we're in the same honors class. Sometimes I think they put you in by mistake."

"Hey!" Wes sat up and pointed an accusatory finger at me. "I passed that entrance exam, there was no mistake. They just didn't warn me I'd need a personal tutor," he said, grinning cheekily.

I rolled my eyes but couldn't help smiling. Wes was always managing to skate by on charm and jokes. The guy had the luck of a cat with nine lives, even if his math skills said otherwise. "If you actually paid attention in class instead of staring at Tara, maybe you wouldn't need me tutoring you," I said.

"Is it that obvious?" Wes asked, a hint of embarrassment behind his question.

I grinned and nodded. "It's pathetic. You could at least try looking somewhere else for a change, even just for a second."

Wes shot me a playful eye roll and smirked. "Yeah, yeah. Whatever."

Wes dug around in his bedside drawer, pulling out a deck of Uno cards. "Let's take a break, yeah? All these functions are hurting my brain."

I chuckled and reached for the cards he tossed. The sound of them shuffling between my hands was oddly soothing, a nice change from the crinkle of flashcards.

"You know, if we were graded on Uno skills, you'd be the one asking me for help," Wes joked, narrowing his eyes as he sorted through his cards.

"Keep dreaming, Wes," I replied, smirking as I set down a draw four card.

Wes groaned, tossing his head back dramatically. "Oh, come on! You're an asshole, you know that?."

"Math tutor by day, Uno champ by night," I said with a laugh, feeling the stress of pre-calc start to fade into the background.

The room filled with the sound of cards slapping the floor and insults flying between us. And for a moment, the tests, the pressure, and the weight of expectations didn't matter. It was just me, Wes, and the game.

———

"Dad, I'm home!" I called out, dropping my jacket and shoes by the door.

"Perfect timing! Dinner's ready!" he said from the kitchen.

I followed the amazing smell. "What's for dinner?"

"Pizza. I made it from scratch." He set the plates down and sat.

I took a bite and my eyes widened. "Whoa—this is fantastic!"

He smiled, but then his face turned serious. "I need to tell you something." He clasped his hands together, looking tense. "Tara's house was broken into."

My stomach dropped. "Is she okay?"

"She's alive, but someone tried to kill her. They stabbed her."

A chill ran down my spine. "Do they know who it was?" He shook his head. "But um, I think it was Ghostface, there is a strong possibility that he is back."