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 party was in full swing when I got there. I rang the doorbell and adjusted the skirt of my cocktail dress, smoothing the ruffles of the waistline.
The door swung open to reveal the strawberry blonde that my brother was obsessed with.
Lydia Martin.
She wore a multi-shade grey dress with a v-neckline and she held a tray of pink drinks.
She cocked her head curiously when she saw me and I smiled brightly. "Hi, I heard there was a party? My friend told me about it."
That made her smile just as brightly as I did and she moved aside, "Come on in," she mused. "Take a drink, have some fun."
"Thanks," I boasted, taking a glass from the tray in her hand.
I took a sip of the punch and was surprised about how good it tasted. It was sweet and tasted like alcohol, but it wasn't too strong either. Like champagne...except it wasn't champagne.
I made my way through the house to the backyard and I looked around to find my brother or Scott. Standing there, I did seem to catch the attention of a few young men but I ignored them.
I saw some drag queens in another corner of the backyard and giggled, waving back at them when they waved at me.
Drag queens were literally the best people.
I saw the kid from the rave, the one on the lacrosse team, but I pretended that I didn't see him.
"Sarah, oh, thank God you're finally here.
I turned around to see my brother run up to me and I drank some more of the punch that Lydia gave me.
"Interesting party," I pointed out. "I didn't know Lydia knew any drag queens."
"Oh, she doesn't, I do." I quirked an eyebrow and my brother face palmed. "No, wait, that sounded wrong. I, um, I met them at the club the other night when we were trying to save Danny. Oh my God, that didn't sound any better."
I laughed and clapped a hand on my brother's shoulder, finishing off the drink in my hand. "Don't worry, little bro," I mused with a giggle. "I understand what you're saying. Now, where's Jackson? And where can I get more of this punch?"
"Behind you." I whirled around and saw a fountain on a table and there were more cups of the punch on the table. I grabbed a cup and turned back to Stiles. "Jackson's back here somewhere but there's so many people now that we keep losing him."
I sniffed the air and frowned, "I can't even catch his scent. Too many sweaty, hormonal pheromones in the air."
"Great," he grumbled.
"Come on," I told him.
I drank my second glass of punch as we walked through the various bodies of dancing teenagers, laughing and talking loudly amongst themselves.
