The Other McCall [1]

10 ~ Wrist Pains

Riley's POV

"Where are we going?" Scott asked Stiles.

"You'll see." He said, walking to the place where we were taking him.

"Riley, we probably should be here, Mom's a constant freak out because of what happened at the school." Scott warned I rolled my eyes and shook my head.

"Well your Mom isn't the Sheriff, okay? There's no comparison, trust me." Stiles complained. I felt sorry for Stiles, it took him ages to get up from when his Mom died. He never really spoke about her, I'm not sure what even happened to her, I just know Stiles used to get loads of panic attacks after.

"Can you at least just tell me what we're doing out here?" Scott pleaded.

"When your brother and best friend gets dumped - " I started.

"I didn't get dumped, we're just taking a break." He corrected, even though it literally meant the exact same thing.

"All right, well, when your best friend gets told by his girlfriend that they're taking a break - You get your best friend drunk." Stiles continued.

About an hour went by and Stiles was smashed. I pretty drunk myself, my going to lie.

"Dude, you know, she's just one girl. There are plenty of other girls in the sea." Stiles hiccuped.

"Fish in the sea." Scott corrected.

"Fish?" I asked. "We're not talking about fish."

"Why are you talking about fish? I'm talking about girls. I love girls. I love 'em! Especially ones with long brown hair, brown eyes, 5'5"-" Stiles trailed on.

"Like Riley?" Scott asked.

"Yeah, exactly. Hey, how did you know I was talking about - about - What was I talking about?" Stiles nodded.

"Hey, you're not happy. Take a drink." I offered, slurring.

"I don't want anymore." Scott mumbled, in a trance like state. How did he not want alcohol?

"You're not drunk?" Stiles asked. He was laying down, resting his head on a log. I stumbled from the log across from him that I was sat on and rested my head on his chest.

"I'm not anything." He said so depressingly. He needed to lighten up.

"Hey, maybe it's like - maybe it's like not needing your inhaler anymore, you know. Maybe you can't get drunk as a wolf. Am I drunk?" I burped.

"You're both wasted." He nodded, soberly.

"Yeah! Come on, dude, I know it feels bad. I know it hurts. I know. Well, I don't know. But I know this. I know that as much as being broken up hurts, being alone is way worse. That didn't make any sense. I need a drink." Stiles rolled over, reaching the bottle of alcohol, pushing me on to the cold, dirty ground. I just started laughing hysterically.

"Look at the three bitches getting their drink on." Two men came walking towards us. He grabbed the bottle and I sat up looking at the one who spoke.

"You know, I always knew I was a bitch." I nodded and he looked at me, before awkwardly nodding once.

"Give it back." Scott said between his clenched teeth.

"What's that little man?" He asked. I furrowed my brows and placed my head on Stiles' chest again, looking to the sky. I was getting drowsy.

"I think he wants a drink." The other man spoke. Finally, Scott wants a drink, he'd been depressing all night while Stiles' and I drank the bottle of Jack.