𝐋𝐎𝐎𝐊 𝐀𝐅𝐓𝐄𝐑 𝐘𝐎𝐔 || 𝐢. 𝐥𝐚𝐡𝐞𝐲

𝐜𝐡𝐚𝐩𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝐭𝐞𝐧

"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. I might throw up on you just to make a point, Jared," Coach yelled at the pale boy. Now, the rest of you, don't think we're gonna miss this meet because of a slight traffic jam... a minor tornado warning... Jared... We're gonna make this thing. Nothing is gonna stop us! Stilinski, put your hand down."

Stiles dropped his hand but argued with the man anyway like he always did. "You know, there's, like, a food exit about a half mile up. I don't know, if we stop, and then maybe—"

"We're not gonna stop," Finstock replied petulantly.

They had already been on the bus for longer than the trip was supposed to take, and they were not even halfway there. The Sharpe girl actually believed that she was going to die of old age and boredom on that bus. Stiles, fed up with the man and how long that freaking bus ride was taking, countered, "Okay, but if we stop—"

"Stilinski! Shut it! Seriously! It's a little bus! Stop asking me questions!" Coach ordered before heading back to his spot at the front of the bus so that he wasn't going to be bothered anymore. Man, that man was stubborn. He did not even try to listen to what Stiles had to say, even though it was what everyone else on that bus wanted. April had not eaten in what felt like forever.

"I hate him," the Stilinski boy muttered with an exasperated voice as he flopped back down in his seat. He looked over to Scott who was getting worse by the second. "Did you call Deaton?"

The werewolf shook his head slowly and groaned, holding up his phone.  April could see the black and red spots mixing on his shirt when his arm went up. "I keep getting his voicemail."

"Call Allison and Lydia,"  the blonde girl suggested, looking to Stiles.

The sheriff's son nodded, his eyes widening in realization as he reached to pull his phone out of his back pocket and began dialing the strawberry blonde's number. "Good idea."

"How are they gonna help, back in Beacon Hills?" the McCall boy quizzed with furrowed eyebrows, confused. Clearly, he had not noticed that their car had been following the bus for a while now, and it was pretty obvious considering they were sitting in the back of the bus.