Aspen Juniper Veata has only ever known Beacon Hills to be a quiet and dainty town. Herself, along with her best friends Scott McCall and Stiles Stilinski, had gone unnoticed by their peers in high school for as long as they could remember. Aspen ha...
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Three hours. Aspen had never wanted to cry more in her life. She was running on three hours of sleep as she forced her self out of bed and got ready in the bathroom. She was prepared to kill Stiles for convincing her to join him and Scott in the woods. Her lack of sleep caused her to become dizzy every time she blinked. Aspen was already late as it was when she had snoozed her alarm four times, now only giving her thirty minutes to make it to the school before she was late on the first day back.
Aspen walked out of the bathroom after throwing on the clothing she had set out the night prior. Brushing out the knots in her hair, she used her other hand to skim her closet for a jacket to wear. She stared at herself in the mirror with disappointment. On the first day of school, most girls would have woken up earlier to have time to do their hair and makeup. They would want to show everyone how much they've changed over the summer.
Aspen, on the other hand, never put in the effort as she realized if she even tried for school, no one would notice. They never did anyway, so she didn't bother. And she had no one to impress, and she definitely didn't care to show off to Scott and Stiles.
After grabbing her backpack from the bed, she made her way down the stairs while wrapping her hair into a low bun. Hopping off the last step, she was met with the pleasant smell of eggs and bacon. If there was one thing her grandfather was good at, it was cooking.
Aspen peeked into the kitchen and smiled at the sight of her small grandfather, Sam, sitting at the dining room table, nibbling on his bacon strip. He danced in his seat, satisfied with how his cooking came out. Sam was a small older man with a head full of white hair slicked back with a comb he used every day since he was younger. He was always wearing a different color robe in the morning, which Aspen found amusing. According to him, the different colors depended on his mood that day. He sported a yellow robe this morning, which Aspen assumed meant he was happy.
"Morning Pa," Aspen chimed, entering the kitchen and planting a kiss on his cheek.
Grandpa Sam Veata let out a light chuckle as he looked over his shoulder to see his grandaughter pouring a cup of orange juice into a glass cup. But seeing her tired face made him frown slightly.
"Oh, June dear. What's wrong?" he asked her, shifting in his seat to get a better look.
"What do you mean?" she asked him, bringing the glass to her lips, "I'm fine."
"You look so tired. Have you been doing drugs again?"
Aspen choked on the liquid as she set the cup down and wiped the juice off her chin.
"Again? I've never even started."
"Oh, yes. I must have gotten you confused with your dad."
Aspen laughed as he noticed the grin playfully set on her grandfather's lips.
