Oops! This image does not follow our content guidelines. To continue publishing, please remove it or upload a different image.
𝐜𝐡𝐚𝐩𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝐟𝐨𝐮𝐫𝐭𝐞𝐞𝐧
─── THE COMPLETELY SENSIBLE PLAN!
Oops! This image does not follow our content guidelines. To continue publishing, please remove it or upload a different image.
HIGH SCHOOL WAS THE LAST PLACE ORION SINCLAIR WANTED TO BE THAT MORNING. In the short span of two hours, it'd proved to be painfully bothersome. Orion swore she would rather feed herself to the alpha if she had to force another smile at some random student. They all assumed the same thing and that seeing the store manager's dead body had brought up memories of her mother. Orion supposed they weren't wrong. Though death in general always prompted her to think back to when she lost her. They would come up to her, most of whom Orion didn't know, sending her sympathetic expressions and kind words with little to no meaning.
It reminded her of when her mom first died, and she went back to school. They would offer her their condolences and their pity before acting as if she didn't exist. They weren't her friends. Orion knew when she was ten that they didn't actually care, and she knew now that nothing had changed. Nonetheless, Orion shoved those thoughts to the back of her head and gave them forced smiles along with emotionless thanks.
The exasperated curly-haired girl sighed softly to herself, trying not to draw attention to herself as she sat in history class, watching the clock slowly change. Orion couldn't help but drown out everything around her. That included Mr. Foster, who had been rambling on about European Imperialism for what felt like a lifetime. Orion usually enjoyed learning about history. It had always been one of her favorite classes, mainly because she tended to get strikingly high grades in it. Yet Mr. Foster's monotone way of speaking and lackluster way of teaching was making it impossible to pay attention. Even Jules was dozing off in front of her.
Orion glanced over at the clock, scrunching her face in mild frustration at how much longer she had in that class. She had five whole minutes left, five minutes of wanting to gauge her eyes out. Orion directed her attention back to the teacher, jotting down some notes despite missing the previous three slides.
With a defeated exhale, Orion placed her pencil down and began playing with the ends of her green cardigan. She glanced around the classroom, watching as her classmates either took notes or sneakily played on their phones. Her gaze fell upon that of Stiles Stilinski as he sat with his face propped up in his palms, his eyes fluttering shut every so often. A small smile tugged at her lips. For a moment, Orion thought he looked cute.
