“You’re a teacher. I don’t think he will have an issue with you,” Stiles said but he took the phone anyways and dialed the station his dad worked out of from heart. “Hey Susan. Ya, it’s Stiles. No I’m not in trouble. Is my dad around? Okay thanks.”
There was a pause which Stiles to advantage of by slumping even further into the couch and closing his eyes. “Hey Dad. No. I’m okay. Promise. Why am I not at the Quidditch Cup?” Stiles cracked open an eye and looked at Derek. “Well there was an attack- No, I’m fine. I swear. I… don’t know about Nico or Keara. Der- Professor Hale got me out of there. He is sitting here with me right now. Why? Well okay… I might have a sprained ankle. But we are icing it and I took some advil. That’s it I swear!” Stiles sighed and handed the phone to Derek. “He wants to talk to you.”