seven

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(Warning: As you all know if you've watched the show, 3x06 Motel California gets quite intense as it mainly deals with suicide attempts. And as you all also know, none of them are successful in this episode but the topic is still brought up.)



Two and a half hours later, our bus took an unplanned exit as it rolled down a bumpy road, ultimately shaking me from my make-shift napping position on Stiles' shoulder.

When the bus' tires lurched to a stop, Coach stood up from his seat at the front of the vehicle and turned to face the crowd of confused looking teenagers. We weren't supposed to stop for another half-hour at least. And we were definitely not supposed to stop at a motel.

"Okay, listen up! The meet's been pushed 'til tomorrow," Coach's voice crackled through his megaphone, followed by a chorus of complaints. "This is the closest motel with the most vacancies and least amount of good judgement when it comes to accepting a bunch of degenerates like yourselves. You'll be pairing up. Choose wisely, alright? I'll have no sexual perversions perpetrated by you little deviants. Got that? Keep your dirty little hands to your dirty little selves."

The megaphone clicked off with a burst of feedback.

"Let's go! Off the bus!" Coach shouted as he led the group towards the main doors of the Customer Service building. "Pick up your key tags from me!"

As my foot landed on the asphalt, I stared up at our boarding for the night. It was pretty basic as far as motels go with two stories of exterior doors, all connected with a balcony hallway and a few flights of stairs. The beige stucco walls, flat roof, and plain cedar doors made the place look like it was trapped in the 70s. Not to mention, the giant neon billboard which read "Motel Glen Capri" in glowing letters.

The rest of the track team dragged their feet towards Coach and plucked a red plastic key tag with their room numbers on it from the pile. Allison, Stiles, and Scott stepped forward to grab theirs, only to return to find both Lydia and I still frozen in place just off the bus.

The three of them followed our stares up to the sight of the building.

"I've seen worse," Scott shrugged, adjusting the strap of the gym bag on his shoulder.

"Where have you seen worse?" Stiles muttered. I didn't realize I was shivering until he wrapped an arm around me."Whoa, you okay? Cold?"

"Yeah," I stammered out, blinking a few times. "Just don't feel great is all."

"Me neither," Lydia murmured.

Allison's eyebrows furrowed in concern. "Are you carsick from the drive over?"

The nausea in my stomach and pounding in my head matched the symptoms of carsickness, but as much as I wanted to deny it, the nagging feeling in my chest knew that it was more than just that. "I don't think so. It just feels off. I don't like this place."

"Me neither," Lydia echoed her earlier statement.

"I don't think the people who own this place like this place," Allison noted. "At least it's just for one night."

I heard Lydia's faint whisper "A lot can happen in one night." But we all trudged forward anyway. Despite Coach's instructions to form pairs, Lydia, my sister, and I formed a group of three in one room: 217 as stamped on our key card. There was no way we were going to force one of us to break off from the group and, besides, Coach seemed too distraught from the bus journey - slamming the door to his own room shut - to even care.

Unlocking the door next to the boys', Allison led the three of us into a small, generic Motel room. The interior was incredibly dark, having zero natural light to assist due to the already dark sky and only two small lamps on either bedside table.

Tether ⌲ Stiles Stilinski [2]Where stories live. Discover now