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GLEN CAPRIWAS the only motel they could find on the road with the most vacancies available. Needless to say, it was an awful place, and every single student in the yellow bus could see it through the windows. When they spotted Coach Finstock walking back to the bus, they began to get out one by one, unenthusiastic about spending their night in that crappy motel.
Cara, Stiles, Scott, Allison and Lydia were the last ones to get out of the bus, staring in disbelief at the rooms before them. The three girls exchanged uncomfortable looks, while Scott tried to seem optimistic about the whole situation.
"I've seen worse," the teen wolf smiled, sighing.
His best friend, on the other hand, looked at him as if he was mental. "Where have you seen worse?"
Before Scott could answer, Bobby Finstock blew his whistle to attract everyone's attention, too close to Carabelle to make her jump and grimace in pain. His right hand was holding a bunch of keys, each one with a different number, and his left one was holding a single key.
"Listen up! The meet's been pushed till tomorrow. 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," Cara gulped, knowing that she would have to be alone. The idea didn't fascinate her, "there's only one triple room, if any of you want-" the freckled girl didn't waste any time and took the single key he was holding on his left hand. "Uh, there's no triple room anymore. How eager, Thorsen, oh, and I'll have no sexual perversions perpetrated by you, little deviants. Got that? Keep your dirty little hands to your dirty little selves!" He blew his whistle, making the freckled girl grunt.
Walking back to her roommates for that night, Cara followed them to their room, which was conveniently close to Stiles and Scott's. She was starving, although she had fed twice that day.
Their room was bigger than all the three girls had expected, and —watching from afar— the beds didn't look as uncomfortable as they imagined before opening the door. Cara left her bag on the bed closest to the window and took out a plain white tee, some black sweatpants and her underwear. She felt as though she hadn't taken a shower for the past week, and all of that was due to the persistent smell of vomit that, despite Coach's efforts to make it disappear, her heightened sense of smell still managed to perceive.
"I'll take a shower," she told the girls and closed the bathroom's door behind her.
She placed her stuff over the small cabinet besides the toilet and unfolded one of the white towels that were placed under the sink. Wrinkling her nose, Cara reopened the door, attracting Lydia and Allison's attention. They both looked at her expectantly, the brunette was also in a rush to take a shower.
