Emotion is an odd thing. It heightens at the worst times or is lulled when in a state of numbness. Sometimes emotions are uncontrollable if one is angered or simply mesmerized with a particular raven-haired girl sitting across the chemistry lab. Aspen could feel the heat radiating off Scott as he sat at the shared table behind her. She gripped her pencil, tapping it cluelessly against the desk, a tinge of annoyance stinging at her brain. The young werewolf has yet to stop pestering her about Allison and how she felt about their "break". Truthfully Aspen hasn't spoken much to Allison besides the quick greetings in the halls or the fleeting smiles they shared during class. She sensed Allison was avoiding her, knowing she would only be reminded of Scott and inadvertently ask about him.

Aspen's back was already watering from the heat she felt slamming against her neck. Scott had mentioned he could read chemosignals, and she hoped this was nothing of the sort. The eraser of her pencil repeatedly tapped against her closed chemistry book, her glances jumping from Mr. Harris' writing on the chalkboard to the clock just above, counting the minutes till she was free from this heatwave.

From where Stiles share a table with Scott, his eyes perked up as he was in the middle of highlighting yet another paragraph in his book. He dragged out a long sigh, growing annoyed with the obnoxious tapping coming from Aspen.

"Will you cut that out?" Stiles snipped quietly.

Blinking, Aspen turned in her seat. It was too early in the morning to hear Stiles' nitpicking. "What?"

"Could you ease up on the tapping. You're disturbing my focus." Stiles watched her Aspen's face of confusion drop to one of annoyance.

"I'm sorry, were you not able to color--I mean highlight inside the lines?" Aspen flashed a smug smile, one which Stiles mocked with a roll of his eyes while Scott fended off a laugh watching the two bicker.

Mr. Harris turned around abruptly, glaring at the two chattering students in the back. "Mr. Stilinski. Miss Veata. Is there something you'd like to express to the rest of your classmates?"

A few glances from students were aimed at the disturbance, which was Aspen and Stiles. Including Allison, who was across the room with Danny and Isaac, who was currently sharing the table with Aspen.

Aspen shifted in her stool, showing a weak smile while Stiles laughed nervously behind her. "Uh, we were just...uh," Stiles swallowed, his lips moving before his brain could work, "admiring your chalk Mr. Harris. It's very nice. Colorful."

"Yes, you have an eye for good chalk, sir," Aspen recovered with a quick nod, rolling her lips into her mouth to fight the smile that attempted to pry itself from her lips.

Mr. Harris raised a brow at the two, once again questioning why he became a teacher for such brainless teenagers. With a warning glare, he spun around and proceeded his teaching about conversions.

Quickly, Aspen looked at Stiles, reaching over and swatting him in the arm with a look of disbelief. "'Nice chalk', really?" Aspen said in a low mumble.

"You went along with it," he shot back quickly as he jerked back with a cursed mumble under his breath.

"Your fault," Aspen mouthed, pointing an accusatory pencil in his direction. Facing forward in her seat with a frustrated sigh, Aspen heaved her bag in between her legs and pulled out a notebook. Isaac passed a glance in her direction, noticing her dangling foot shaking. He tapped his foot against hers, bringing her to look up.

"You seem on edge," Isaac whispered, eyeing Mr. Harris as he rummaged through his file cabinet to pull out a thick binder.

"I would tell you, but..." Aspen tapped the shell of her ear before slightly tilting her head back toward Scott. Isaac caught on to her meaning of Scott possibly hearing in on their conversation and nodded before returning to staring down at his textbook.

"Alright, I will be passing out study sheets," Mr. Harris told the class as he held up a binder to show the class before stalking up and down the aisle, placing a packet on each table, "instructions are on your sheet, I suggest you read them carefully. Work diligently with the partner of your choosing. No other class or topic is to be discussed if not regarding the lab. Begin." Aspen and Scott let out a low chuckle when Mr. Harris' gaze was directed to Stiles during his last instruction.

The sounds of stools scratching against the tile echoed throughout the classroom as students began to find a friend to work with, but Aspen kept her place, as did Scott and Stiles. From the heat sending sweat down her spine, Aspen apprehended Scott was fighting everything within him not to go steal the available seat next to Allison, which was quickly filled by another girl. 

Aspen let her mind drift toward Isaac, who had grabbed the sheet of stapled papers, his eyes flooding with confusion. With a smile coming upon her lips, Aspen took the paper from his hands. "Don't look too bummed. We're working on it together, remember?" she reminded him with a hopeful look.

Isaac rubbed his temple as he leaned on his elbow against the table. "I can't fail this test. Not this time," he said quietly.

Aspen saw the fog of nostalgia in his eyes, reminiscing the consequences if he reported a poor grade to his father.

"It's a good thing you have me then." Aspen nudged him lightly with her knee, earning a smile from the boy.

They worked in comfortable silence. Aspen was able to get them to the second page of the packet without much issue. She spent most of the time teaching him how to convert units of measurement, all the while having to endure hearing Stiles complain about how this stuff would never be relevant in his life.

In the midst of turning to the third page, a crumpled piece of paper flew between Aspen and Isaac, landing on their desk. Aspen froze as her eyes remained on the worksheet, poison seeping through her veins as Isaac raised an eyebrow, curiously poking it with his pencil.

Aspen didn't offer the paper a glance, knowing it was from Scott asking about Allison. "Ignore it," she instructed calmly.

Isaac complied, looking back at the study guide. Like clockwork, another paper was thrown, and with receiving no reaction, the boys sent another. The papers began to pile up between Aspen and Isaac, up to seven. Aspen was growing more irritated by the boy's antics by the second, the true test of her control happening at this very moment.

Isaac couldn't ignore the quick pile up and passed a look toward Aspen. "Maybe we could--"

With a flat expression, Aspen used the base of her pencil to push the small crumpled up papers off the edge of the table, letting them scatter to the floor. "Nope."

Suddenly, something heavier than paper hit the back of her head and clattered to the floor. Isaac's eyes widened, watching Aspen's face contort to one of pure anger. Upon seeing her fist round over the pencil she held in her hand, Isaac grew worried regarding her control. The two of them turned around, seeing Stiles without a writing utensil, and Scott's hand covering his notebook that revealed ripped out papers. Both boys wore a timid smile, hoping to win Aspen over with their feigned innocence.

"Do you need something?" Aspen strained through a tightened jaw, her glare deadlier than they've ever witnessed.

Scott was quick to wack Stiles' arm, urging him to speak up as if he had suddenly become mute. "I just, uh...wanted you to--open the-the paper. It's kinda important." Stiles stammered as he leaned back, creating as much distance from Aspen, who looked fully prepared to throw a chair at his head.

"More important than our need for a good grade in this class?"

"Yes," Stiles narrowed his eyes as if it was already apparent.

The echoing bell signaling the end of class sounded, everybody gathering their belongings in haste. Mr. Harris's voice was fading quickly, knowing students weren't remotely paying attention to his homework list and a reminder to study for the upcoming test before Winter Formal. Aspen's own chair squeaked against the flooring, a little excited lunch was up next so she could be rid of Scott's heatwaves and added a mental note to talk to Derek bout this new addition to her power.

"Miss Veata, could I see you for a second?" Mr. Harris called out randomly.

Aspen was halfway towards the doorway, Allison bumping into her shoulder as she paused suddenly. Her gaze swung back around, giving her teacher a brief nod as a nervous feeling erupted in her stomach.

Isaac was sending her a look over his shoulder before following the crowd out the door and blending in with the student traffic. Aspen pushed a loose strand of hair behind her ear, stepping up to Mr. Harris' desk, where he waited for her attention.

"How are you, Aspen?" Mr. Harris' question caught her off guard, his concerned tone unfamiliar from his usual sternness.

"Um, I'm alright," Aspen shrugged.

Mr. Harris folded his hands upon stacks of papers he had to grade from their previous quiz. He pulled off his glasses, Aspen biting the inside of her cheek to prevent a sudden snort. She was happy to report to Stiles that their teacher indeed did look like a turtle without his glasses.

"I've come to notice your lack of attentiveness in my class, Miss Veata. And while you are an outstanding student, I would very much like if you focused more on your grades other than after school activities."

It was about time Aspen's lack of regard for her grades caught up to her. She had been too busy playing wolf-sitter that she had completely disregarded her other responsibilities. She had already missed a track practice, which she gained an earful from Coach Flinstock about responsibility and matureness, both things he lacked.

"I'm sorry, Mr. Harris. I've been distracted, and I promise I'll get back on track. I'll make up the grades or write an essay for bonus points if I have to."

Mr. Harris' smiled, scaring Aspen more than it initially should have. "I'm glad to hear that," he paused for a moment, reaching for a pamphlet from his desk drawer and handing Aspen the blue and white printouts. "Miss Lydia Martin is actually looking for volunteers to help prepare for the Winter Formal."

"Oh, I'm sorry, but I don't have time for extracurriculars, sir," Aspen lamely started, staring down at the overly worded pamphlet in her hands, knowing she had to be ready for Scott whenever he called.

Mr. Harris leaned forward in his desk, placing his glass back at the bridge of his nose to peer up at her over the rim. "This would not take much of your time Aspen. Lydia is only looking for assistance in making sure everything is in order. It would give you community hours, but I could always convert it to a quiz grade." That caught Aspen's attention, knowing this could possibly be an easy A to bump up her grade to the usual standard. "At least think it over. If you change your mind, Lydia would be more than happy to update you on everything else."

"Okay. Thanks, Mr. Harris."

<•>

The overcrowded cafeteria had Aspen taking longer to weave through the mass of social circles to lay her sights on Allison and Lydia, who were seated by one of the window walls that was recently installed when the Alpha shattered the previous one. She bypassed Danny, who was busy pinning up the Winter Formal banner with a cheerleader. Managing a quick smile in Danny's direction, Aspen approached the table, noticing Lydia's wide grin upon seeing the blue and white print out in her hands.

"That looks like my Winter Formal sign up sheet." Lydia chimed, doing a little dance in her seat.

"That's because it is your Winter Formal sign up sheet," Aspen said, waving the printout as she shrugged off her backpack and dropped into an available seat next to Allison.

"Oh, Thank god. Greenberg signed up, and I was this close to accepting it." Lydia held her thumb and index finger slightly apart for emphasis, "this close, and here you are, Aspen Veata, becoming my saving grace."

"Since when have you been into stage design?" Allison asked as she prepped her Cesar salad into a plastic container and gave it a few shakes to mix.

"Since never, but Mr. Harris said he would count it as extra credit. I sort of need it to make up from all those missed assignments."

Lydia poked into her fruit bowl until her fork was packed with blueberries. "Well lucky for you, I'm in charge of all decoration, so all you need to do is check everything off and make sure it's in place."

"What's that little marble you got there, June?" Allison asked before pointing toward Aspen's hand and directing the salad into her mouth.

The question not only caught her off guard, but the use of her middle name made her lungs dry up, and with little grace, she managed to keep her sprite in her mouth. Allison and Lydia were both staring across at her, her reaction catching their immediate attention.

"Marble?" she choked out lamely.

Allison nodded with a small laugh, "Yeah, the one in your hand. You always got one on you."

Sure enough, Aspen's marble was indeed laying in her hand, giving her a sense of ease. She made it a routine to calm herself with a marble for a whole day before cracking them at home, and it was the first time she had taken it out of her pocket that day. Aspen's eyes made a quick drop to make sure it wasn't glowing before glancing back at her friends, who were still waiting for an answer. Her brain went blank, not sure how to explain that the marble contained magical elemental energy.

"I uh...collect...them. I collect marbles. And I like to carry them around so," Aspen nodded, thinking that was the best excuse she could come up with.

Lydia snorted, "June bug, marble collecting is so old. What do you even do with them?"

"Well, it's sort of a family heirloom or tradition."

"Tradition is just peer pressure from dead people."

Naturally, both Allison and Aspen rolled their eyes before she finished her explanation "Well my dad is dead, so I guess that applies to the story,"

Lydia's face fell and quickly regretted her choice of words, but Aspen continued while Allison tossed the strawberry blonde girl a look to watch her words.

"My dad played solitaire as a kid, and my grandpa made him marbles just like this one." Allison laid out her hand to see it, and Aspen hesitantly gave it to her, hoping she wouldn't drop it.

Holding it up to the light the window provided, Allison tilted her head as she squinted her eyes, "Huh, it's like it's clouded or something."

"Like a featureless ashen," Lydia voiced out randomly, taking another bite from her fruit bowl as her eyes wandered the crowded cafeteria aimlessly.

Aspen and Allison shared a glance before looking to Lydia, who was oblivious to their surprised reactions. "A featureless ashen?" Allison repeated, trying to find the significance of the marble.

Lydia picked up on their confusion and tried to fake a laugh to excuse her remark, "I mean Yea, it's foggy. That's what I meant." Lydia shrugged.

"You know there's no need to act dumb around us, Lyds. Jackson isn't around to feel belittled." Aspen said, leaning forward in her chair. Lydia's eyes suddenly widened, seeing the two girls staring at her with small smirks as if daring her to deny her magnificent brain. She felt cornered in such an ample space.

Lydia didn't think that was a notable thing to touch upon and went on smiling at someone off in the distance. "Oh, there's Jackson. I should be going." the girl rose from her seat, slinging her purse over her shoulder with a new light in her eyes, "see you soon, Aspen. Allison." With a quick wink, the girl was striding away without so much as a glance over her shoulder.

"I'll never understand her," Allison stated, handing the marble back to Aspen before pulling something out of her pocket. Aspen's forehead creased as she watched Allison pull out a chain with a silver pendant dangling from the end.

"What is that?" Aspen let the pendant lay upon her fingertips, taking in the engraving with intricate detail.

"My aunt Kate gave it to me on my birthday. Said it was a family heirloom, so I thought it could relate your marble." Allison smiled proudly at the necklace as if it was something she cherished ever since she received it. "I don't think it's old school, by the way. It's cool."

Something on the necklace caught Aspen's eye, her mind beginning to piece together why her family was werewolf hunters. A werewolf was engraved in the silver along with other engravings she couldn't quite decipher. 

"What does it mean?" Aspen looked up to meet Allison's eyes.

"It's like I told you and Lydia that one day at lunch. My family goes back generations with this wolf business. I have no idea what it's about, but it's pretty cool knowing my family's name was in history." Aspen only nodded, her brain thinking of other ways Kate could have poisoned Allison's mind.

The bell sounded singing for the next class. Both girls gathered their belongings and traveled down the halls toward their next class. "Oh one more thing," Allison grabbed Aspen's wrist, stopping her amid students bumping into them in passing, "My Aunt Kate and my dad wanted me to ask if you and your grandfather wanted to come over for dinner. They feel bad about your parenst and wanna see how you're holding up."

"Oh," Aspen said quietly, her eyes roaming the hall to find Isaac, Scott, or Stiles, but none were in sight.

Allison's sweet smile was fading the longer it took Aspen to answer as she suspected something was wrong. "Though I totally get if you don't want to. I know the topic is a bit sensitive and you wouldn't--"

Aspen shook her head, breaking a smile, "No, no, not a all. I'll be there. Sounds fun."

Allison dragged out a sigh of relief as he laughed heartily, "Okay, great to hear it. See you then."

Allison continued down the hall with a wave, leaving Aspen to come up with an explanation to tell the boys why she voluntarily agreed to walk into the hunter's den.