𝐑𝐔𝐍𝐍𝐄𝐑 | ❝ run like the wind, and see how long it takes for your problems to catch up with you.❞
oliver sanchez is a fan of running away from his problems, but when his problems start chasing him, things become complicated. 𝐒𝐓𝐈𝐋𝐄𝐒 𝐒𝐓...
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{0.6}
"The Hatred of Lacrosse"
***
Oliver knew that they were going to be questionedby the police sooner or later.... and he was mentally thanking his past self for making Stiles's father like him.
"I want to hear it from you before I hear it from my son," the older man began, pulling Ollie aside. The boy tried his best to look as innocent as he possibly could with dirt all over his pants. "Why were you guys out here?"
"We were looking for Scott's inhaler," he rehearsed the lines that Stiles had gone over with him previously, flashing the older man a smile. "And we took a wrong turn, and somehow ended up here."
"My son told me that you weren't with him that night in the woods."
"Oh, I wasn't." It felt good not to lie, and Ollie grinned. "I was actually at home."
"What were you doing at home?"
Oliver knew that he wouldn't believe him if he said that he was sleeping, so he blinked once before responding, hoping his tone was more confident than he felt at the moment. "I was, uh, studying."
Mr. Stilinski smiled, patting Oliver's shoulder with a kind smile. "Of course you were. God, I'll tell ya- my son's out here looking for some body, and you are at home... studying." He sighed deeply. "Sooner or later, I'm praying that you'll rub off of him."
Ollie briefly flash-backed to the time he accidentally set someones pants on fire, but forced the smile to stay on his face. "Yes, sir."
"And you're keeping those grades up? I wouldn't want Nicole having to deal with a trouble maker." He teased scribbling something down on his clipboard, and Ollie chuckled nervously, speaking in Spanish so that he didn't have to lie directly to the man's face. "Uh, Señor bueno, yo no digo mentiras."
"Nice."
"Yeah..." Ollie paused, "Spanish..."
"For the love of-" Ollie thought that Mr. Stilinski somehow knew Spanish when the exasperated tone returned to his voice, but when he turned around, it became apparent that it was just Stiles. He said a short prayer for his friend as his dad stalked over to the police vehicle and hoisted him out by the collar of his shirt, dragging him over and planting him firmly next to Ollie. The boy rolled his eyes at his best friend, giving him a discreet, 'what the hell, dude?' look.
