"please, just let me help you"
"why should i? everyone i know either dies or thinks i'm a total freak show"
Georgia Ray is a social outcast. Nobody bothers to spare her a second glance, unless it's to roll their eyes or scoff. Living alone w...
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GEORGIA RAY WOULD BE LYING IF she said she wasn't a little excited when she saw a bus at school coated in blood with the back door nearly knocked entirely off it's hinges, a row of deep scratches in it. A few paramedics and detectives were buzzing around, investigating and taking pictures.
Of course, Georgia instantly fished her polaroid camera out of her bag and snapped a photo. She waited for it to dispense, starting to shake it when she realized that was the last piece of film she had on her.
Groaning, Georgia shoved it back into her bag, replacing it with her shitty flip phone and pocketing the only successful polaroid. It took her a moment to remember how to use the damned camera app like always, but soon she was snapping photos. No one seemed to notice her and if they did, they didn't care.
Until suddenly Nate was blocking the view of her camera.
"What do you think you're doing?" Nate had his hands placed on his hips, his signature look. He was also in his police uniform as per usual, seeing as he was there to look over the crime scene.
"Taking selfies," Georgia made a kissy face, pretending not to be gathering photos of the scene despite her phone not even having a front camera. Nate rolled his eyes, snatching the phone out of her hands and looking through the photos she'd taken.
Georgia panicked, remembering the photos of werewolf Scott she had taken not long ago.
"Nate, stop, my nudes are in there," Georgia said in such a plain voice that it almost came across believable. Nate's face scrunched up, his search halting as he nearly gagged at his sister.
"That better be a lie," he demanded.
"I think it did," they suddenly heard from behind Georgia. Glancing over her shoulder, she spotted Scott and Stiles.
"Whelp, that's my cue," Georgia said, turning around and snatching her phone back before approaching the boys.
"That better be a lie, Georgia!"
"Why do you look like you just realized you left the curling iron on at home?" Georgia asked, picking up on both of the boys overly nervous expressions. Scott instantly whipped around, pushing back through the doors to the school.
"Long story short, Scott had a dream last night that he killed Allison on a school bus," Stiles explained as Scott began frantically looking up and down the hall. Georgia raised her brows.
"You mean exactly like the bloody school bus outside?" she realized. Stiles nodded, and Georgia hummed, "Sounds more like nonfiction to me."
"Not helping, Georgia!" Scott snapped, his head lowered as he typed away at his phone.
"She's probably fine," Stiles tried to calm the teen wolf.
"She's not answering my texts, guys," Scott ranted before Georgia could negatively comment.
