𝐑𝐄𝐏𝐓𝐈𝐋𝐈𝐀 | ❝ There are so many threats happening all at once and no one trusts anyone. People are dying and we don't know why or how or who's going to be next. And we can't protect anyone if we can't trust each other. ❞
The supernatu...
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The rave was in full swing and I was swaying with strangers on the dance floor. To not cause suspicion with guests in case the killer was there, I showed up without my brother and Scott. Stiles had to swing by Scott's to pick him up anyway.
I couldn't understand the music but it shook through my body and echoed through my ears.
My eyes closed as I swayed with a random guy on the floor. He was around my age but not someone I recognized. It didn't matter, I was just having a good time.
I caught a familiar scent over the smells of the sweating bodies around me and I turned my head to scan the crowd.
Off the dance floor, I saw Scott standing there and Allison approached him, which was curious since he told me she had a fake date with another teenager in order to fool her parents.
I started to make my way over when I saw that the conversation was intense but then I bumped into someone on the dance floor.
"Oh, I am so sorry," I apologized over the loud music, turning to the person I bumped into.
He was a teenager and slightly shorter than I was. He had dark curly-ish hair and was wearing a faux leather jacket.
"Sarah? Wow, hi, I didn't think I'd see you here, didn't think it was your scene."
I tilted my head and furrowed my eyebrows at his use of my name but I had no idea who he was.
"I'm sorry, do I know you?" I asked him over the music. Some part of me had an inkling that I did know him but I couldn't figure it out for the life of me.
My lack of recognition of him made him falter for a moment before he shoved his hands into his pockets. "You, uh...You don't recognize me?"
I pursed my lips and crossed my arms loosely over my chest as I studied him.
Something clicked but it felt like there was more to him than I could remember.
"Wait, don't you play for Beacon Hills? You're on the team with my brother, Stiles," I smiled at him softly.
He seemed disheartened by my answer, maybe even a little mad, but he quickly smiled and nodded his head, "Yeah. Yeah, I do. I've seen you at the games and Jackson told me who you were."
I tilted my head again because the conversation was getting curiouser—Jackson usually was a douche to everyone but his posse. Was this kid part of that posse?
"Sarah, can you hear me? If you can, meet me out back. The Argents are here."
I smiled down at the kid and took a step back. "Well, it was nice to meet you," I called over the music, "but I'm just gonna step outside for some fresh air. The smoke machines and all that."
