𝐅𝐈𝐍𝐀𝐋 𝐆𝐈𝐑𝐋

𝕔𝕙𝕒𝕡𝕥𝕖𝕣 𝕗𝕚𝕧𝕖

 Once again, the streets outside the school were lined with large white news vans. Reporters were packed into the crowded courtyard, attacking kids on their way to class. They were starved for teenage insight. You watched it all from the safety of Dewey's car. He had given you and Tatum a ride yet again. 

 You were cowering deep in the back seat, peering up out the window to avoid being spotted by anyone who might want an exclusive interview. Your parents called early in the morning to tell you that they finally arrived home and that you would see them when you left school that afternoon. That was really your only motivation to get this over with.

The car pulled up to the curb and jolted to a stop in front of the surprisingly empty crosswalk. No one batted an eye at the patrol vehicle parked outside the school anymore. Everyone had grown used to the authorities crawling around.

Tatum hopped out, backpack swinging behind her. Her pigtails bounced as she strutted up the cobbled walkway, leaving you to linger alone in the vehicle. You sighed, eyes searching the crowds for any possible escape-route just in case.

Dewey noticed your hesitation and reached around to put his hand behind the passenger-seat headrest. "Hey," he said. "It's school. You'll be safe here."

Not wanting him to pity you any more than he already was, you faked a smile as you grabbed your backpack up by the strap. You threw the bag over your shoulder as you stepped out onto the sidewalk. "Thanks for the ride, Dewey."

The door slammed shut behind you and not a split-second later, you were surrounded by reporters. Foam microphones were shoved in front of your mouth, bright white flashes went off from their cameras. Several voices announced the names of news stations and true-crime blogs all at once, trying desperately to grab your attention. You tried to fumble back toward the car but it became clear that you were surrounded on all sides.

"(Y/N)! (Y/N)!" a single voice called out and a shorter woman with a blocky microphone shoved her way to stand right in front of you. She was wearing a peach-colored business suit that contrasted with her bright auburn hair and thin ruby red lips. You recognized her from the local news network. Her name was Gale Weathers and she covered the last big murder in Woodsboro. You barely remembered the details but it was all the town could talk about when you were still in middle school.

"How does it feel to almost be brutally murdered?" She asked bluntly, waving her hands in front of your face to direct your eyes to her. You froze up at her question, mouth hanging open in shock. You knew reporters could be a handful but you were not expecting that.

"I-" You started, not sure what exactly you were supposed to say. Did this call for an 'it feels great!' or maybe an 'I'll have to get back to you when the trauma clears enough for me to remember correctly!'

Before you could even attempt a reply, a familiar and protective presence made it's way to your side. At first, you thought it was Dewey. But when you looked up to their face, you saw that it was actually Stu with his arm around your the small of your back, gently ushering you through the crowd of cameras and microphones.

"Leave the girl alone, will ya?" he called out. You could barely hear him over the hum of the mob. "She just wants to go to school!"

 Stu was usually all-smiles so it unnerved you to see him with such a grave expression as he pulled you closer to the front entrance of the school. You were having flashbacks to yesterday morning. Only then, the crowds were thinner and the press not as pressing. 

 Unknowingly, you reached down for Stu's hand, pressing the back of your palm against his. Immediately, he weaved his fingers around yours and squeezed your hand as he led you up the set of stairs before the double doors.