(Discontinued) When the Wolves Howl | Teen Wolf

Chapter 11

"Jared, I'm warning you. I'm an empathetic vomiter. You throw up, I'm gonna throw up right back on you and it will be profoundly disgusting."

Jared, looking sickly, shook his head. "Please don't talk about throwing up. It's not good."

"I might throw up on you just to make a point, Jared," Coach said, staring down at the pale boy. 

"It's not good. It's not good."

Iris squeezed her eyes shut in hopes of shutting out her surroundings. From where she sat, she could hear the rumblings of Jared's stomach. The noise only slightly bothered her, but the thing that sent waves of anxiety rolling around in her gut was the reminder that she could hear what others couldn't. 

"Now the rest of you, don't think we're going to miss this meet because of a slight traffic jam--" Coach pointed to the front of the bus with his thumb, behind his back, as if the accident were a mere fender bender. "--A minor tornado warning... Jared. We're gonna make this thing. Nothing is gonna stop us!" 

Someone raised their hand in the back. Iris heard the rustle of their sleeve and the rise of their heart rate. 

"Stilinski, put your hand down."

"You know, there's, like, a food..."

It was later and despite Stiles Stlinski's promise, Iris still had no clue what the fuck was going on. She wanted to know why Scott smelt like blood and why Stiles seemed to hold all the answers. Despite her qualms, the sound of his voice sent warm tingles through her chest, though, and she tried not to focus on the way it soothed the ache in her chest. 

"We're not gonna stop," Coach stated simply. 

"Okay, but if we stop-"

"Stilinski!" The sharp noise of Coach's whistle made Iris clap her hands around her ears. Her earbuds dug into the sensitive part but did nothing to stop the piercing noise. 

"Shut it! Seriously! It's a little bus!" Coach yelled. "Stop asking me questions!"

"I hate him," Stiles said to Scott from under his hand. 

Someone blared their car horn. 

A kid in the front of the bus sniffled. 

Soft music played from someone's headphones. 

Iris whimpered, softly, just enough to try and ease the knot of frustration that had wound its way around her heart and wouldn't ease. 

It didn't work. 

She felt like screaming. Crying. Puking. Yelling at Scott and Stiles for not explaining things to her. Anything. 

But all she could do was sit, listening to the drum of multiple heartbeats and try not to have too big of an existential crisis. 

#  #  #

Coach's whistle blew. 

They're standing right next to her bus seat. 

"It's 60 miles to the next rest stop--"

Whistle. 

Iris sunk deeper into her bus seat. 

"Being cooped up for hours is not good--"

Whistle. 

She regretted every decision she'd made to get her here. 

"You know, our bladders aren't--"

Whistle. 

They fought for a few minutes longer before Coach ended the argument with a sharp, long whistle blow. He yelled, "Get back to your seat, Stilinski!"