xii. WOUNDS OF THE HEART

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xii. WOUNDS OF THE HEART

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        If you told Foster that she'd find herself driving to a cross country meet a six in the morning while a thunderstorm is raging outside with Allison Argent and Lydia Martin, she'd tell you that you're downright crazy. First of all, Foster hates anything that has to do with sports in general. Second, Foster doesn't do six in the morning or storms, and finally, Allison, her and Lydia currently on speaking terms. Hence why she's beyond confused as to why she's sitting in the passenger seat of Allison's car.

        Foster twiddles her thumbs nervously, the soft sounds of The Black Keys filling the car with noise, blocking out the mind deafening silence. A crack of thunder sounds above them, Foster getting an alert of her phone stating that they're in the middle of a tornado warning.

         Allison follows steadily behind the bus, continuing to ignore the awkward tension between the three girls as she questions quickly, "Am I getting too close? I'm getting too close, aren't I?"

        "That depends," Foster muses, noticing how close they are to the bus, it's like they're about to crash into it. "Are you trying to follow the bus or are you planning on mounting it at some point?"

        Allison shoots her a glare, Foster looking away quickly, noticing that Allison is still mad at her. God, she would do anything to get out of this car even if that meant walking all the way back to Beacon Hills.

        "Sorry," she mumbles, beginning to twiddle her thumbs nervously.

        Allison lets out a soft sigh, mumbling, "No, it's fine. You're right, anyway. I should back off."

        Quirking a brow, Foster then questions, "Why are we following the bus, anyway? Are we planning on going to the meet?"

        In all honesty, Foster has absolutely no idea what they're doing. All she knows is that Lydia shot her a text at five-fifteen and then Allison's car showed up in her drive way. She was surprised by this, to say the least.

        "Well, last night our dear friend Allison decided to get herself smack in the middle of a werewolf fight," Lydia muses from the back seat, letting out a soft hum.

        Allison lets out a sigh, explaining, "I'm not letting him out of my sight after what happened."

        The words practically stabbed at Foster, making the blonde feel even worse about this situation than she already does. Allison still cares - maybe even loves - about Scott, and Foster's just the backstabbing friend who took him away from her.

        Foster never intended on taking Scott from her, it just happened. After everything the two teens went through, some feelings began to develop. Foster can't control that, it's not her fault. The blame's mutual, though. Scott should be at just as much fault as Foster.

        The three of them are silent for a moment, Lydia soon breaking the silence by asking, "So, is that whole not letting him out of your sight a literal thing or a more general rule."

        Allison's eyebrows crease together in confusion, questioning, "Why?"

        "Because you're running out of fumes," Lydia muses in a sing song tone, Allison and Foster glancing at the gas tank to see the meter running on empty.

        Allison lets out a groan of annoyance, letting out a sigh.

        "Yeah, and I'm pretty sure that bus holds a lot more gas than this Toyota," Lydia adds on, Foster nodding softly in agreement.

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