❝ Looks like you've got a severe case of the crazies ❞
❝ That crap you told me before was crazy... this is real ❞
• In which Sunday Hampton realizes werewolves and kanimas are not nearly as scary as her own life •
(TEEN WOLF S4 → S6)
(OC X LIAM DUNB...
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I’m sitting on the metal bench second to the bottom of the bleachers. My red eyes and hiccuping have been gone for hours but the exhaustion is still very much here. I keep most of my attention on my phone, where I’m scrolling through Pinterest, but occasionally I look up to check out whatever Liam is doing.
My mom thankfully agreed when I called her about Liam’s offer, though she did sound a little put off when I told her he was another friend. I don’t have any other friends besides Nolan and she knows it. Hopefully she just thinks I’m branching out and being social like she told me to.
For the past five to ten minutes Liam’s been chatting with his little clique of friends but now he’s playing goalie.
Not a single ball makes it past him. Now that’s talent.
I scan the field for the team captain, Scott McCall, who, as I expected, is gossiping with his best friend, Stiles. He’s probably fearing for his spot. He better be, cause Liam might just be the first freshman lacrosse captain ever.
Stiles looks offended. I find myself stifling a snicker.
Liam keeps up his roll, catching everything thrown his way, including the shoe an angry Greenburg chucks at him. Even better, he still caught it with his net.
Dang he’s skilled.
Coach Finstock eventually calls time and all the boys are sent to the locker room. I expect he’ll be praised by quite a few people in there so I don’t move to leave just yet.
When he comes back out after about ten minutes I go to meet him, applauding him as he jogs up to me.
“You didn’t tell me you’re a prodigy!”
“How do you know I’m not just mediocre?” He challenges me, recalling what I’d said about not liking lacrosse.
“My friend Nolan is in lacrosse, I spend every afternoon here anyway. I haven’t seen anyone as talented as you, not even Scott.”
His bright face changes to one of almost concern, “him and his friend confronted me in the locker room earlier. I’m pretty sure they think I’m on steroids or something. But the way they asked me about it was so…” he laughs. “Weird.”
“Strange stuff surrounds those two, I say just avoid them as much as possible. Most people live by that.”
“What do you mean strange stuff?”
We are approaching his mom’s car as I halt, frowning.
“I mean they’re always found at the scene of murders or attacks. One of their friends died earlier this year.”
His eyes go wide.
I shrug, “or it’s a case of wrong place at the wrong time. Or Stiles is playing detective like his dad.”
