Warning: Panic attack, mentions of suicide, mentions of trauma, suicidal thoughts and actions, angst, heavy angst, injuries. IT'S MOTEL CALIFORNIA TIME PEOPLE. If you're uncomfortable with any of these themes, do not read this. Your mental health is more important then a book.
Vic woke up when the bus stopped. She lifted her head from where it had been on her brother's shoulder. reached up and touched her nose. It didn't hurt anymore. There was dried blood on her upper lip. She scratched at it until all the flakes fell to her lap. She brushed them all off.
She looked outside and saw the glow of the neon lights. For a second she was dazed from the harsh brightness of the lights, but she blinked that away and made out the words on the sign. 'Glen Capri Motel.'
They all grabbed their bags and climbed out of the bus. The place had ugly yellow paint, red doors that wrapped around the two floors, old brown-weather strained tiles that were cracking. Even from the distance she could smell the cigarette smoke.
She didn't even notice how she rubbed at the inside of her elbow. Stiles did.
"Anyone else feel like we're in a horror movie all of a sudden?" she asked no one in particular.
"I've seen worse," Scott said. He was walking on his own now. It seemed that the stitching in the bathroom was all he needed.
"Where have you seen worse?" Stiles asked his friend.
On his other side, Vic snorted. "Dealers warehouse in Athens," she told the two. "This place isn't even close to being worse then that."
Coach Finstock's whistle echoed through the courtyard. "Listen up!" the man yelled. "The meet's been pushed to tomorrow. This is the closest motel with the most vacancies and the least amount of good judgement when it comes to accpeting a bunch of degenerates like yourselves."
"That's rude," Vic muttered.
"Pot meet kettle," Stiles whispered to her.
"You'll be pairing up, choose wisely," Coach said, holding up a bunch of keys. "And I'll have no sexual perversions perpertrated by you little deviants. Got that? Keep your dirty little hands to your dirty little selves."
Vic looked back to the motel and started tracing her necklace. It looked so similar. The look, the smell. She could almost see those stupid worktabless and those couches. She always draped herself across them like she was a queen. Queens didn't smell like meth and cigarettes.
"Hey," a voice said. It pulled her from her flashback to the present. Stiles had a hand on her shoulder, a concerned expression on his face. "You gonna be okay here? We can stay on the bus if you want."
She smiled softly at the word 'we.' "No, it's okay. I'll be okay. If I need you, I'll text you okay?"
He didn't look convinced, but he nodded anyway. He grabbed a key from Coach and walked with Scott to the second floor. She stayed in the parking lot, trying to gain the courage to walk forward.
"Lydia? Vic?" Allison asked, noticing the girls' hesitency.
"I don't like this place," Lydia muttered.
"Me neither," Vic agreed.
"I don't think the owners like this place," Allison said, a small smile on her face. When she noticed their continued hesitency, her smile softened. "It's only a night."
"A lot can happen in one night," Lydia muttered. She said to so quietly Vic almost couldn't hear her. She couldn't help but agree. A lot had happened that first night she was with the Dealers.
आप पढ़ रहे हैं
Gut Instinct (Teen Wolf)
फैनफिक्शन"My gut is telling me something's off with this kid," Vic said. "And I've learned to trust my gut a long time ago." "What else is your gut telling you?" Scott asked. She paused for a second before she turned to the two boys. "My gut is telling me...
