Somewhere amidst bloodthirsty werewolves and vengeful hunters, Carson Bradley did the one thing she thought she never would: she fell for her best friend.
(season 1, book 1)
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CHAPTER SEVENTEEN RUNNING IN THE HALLS
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Stiles, Scott, and I held the doors closed. My eyes were still wide. We had just watched Derek Hale get murdered. Sure, I hated the guy as much as the next person, but that didn't mean I wanted him to be murdered.
"Lock it, lock it," Scott let out.
"Do I look like I have the key?" Stiles shouted.
"Grab something," Scott shouted back.
I gave him a look. "Like what?"
"Anything," Scott replied.
Suddenly, Stiles got this far away look on his face, like he had an idea. He stumbled, but got up and began looking through the small window imbedded in the door. Scott and I scrambled up. We pushed out heads together, both trying to see out the other window. Our eyes darted around until we found what our Adderall-consuming friend was looking at. Down on the steps, was the pair of bolt cutters Stiles used to break the locks so we could get in less than ten minutes ago. We both figured out what he was getting at. Retrieving them and shoving them through the handles. But there was one problem.
They were outside. Where the Alpha was.
Stiles reached for the door handles, only to have Scott put a hand on his shoulders.
"No," Scott said.
"Yes," Stiles says, shrugging the hand off.
I shook my head rapidly. "Stiles no, don't."
He didn't listen, slipping through a crack between the slightly open doors. He shut it behind him, leaving Scott and I inside. I gulped.
"He's crazy," I mumbled.
Stiles quickly looked around, before making his way down the steps. As of right now, he was in the clear. He bent down to pick the bolt cutters up, when something moved. On all fours, the Alpha emerged from behind Stiles' jeep, red eyes glinting with evil. The eyes I had seen in the movie store. Less than ten feet away from him.
I quickly directed Scott's attention to it. His eyes widened as we shared a look. Within seconds, we were screaming.
"Stiles!" Scott and I screamed, banging on the glass. He turned around, raising an eyebrow.
We kept banging as he turned around. He took one look at the Alpha, before getting up. He sprinted up the steps, and threw himself through the door. He slammed it shut, jamming the bolt cutters through the handles.
"You freaking idiot," I screamed, smacking his arm. "You could have been killed."
