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chapter six take the pain away
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A STORM was brewing. Odessa could practically feel it coming from inside the cramped school bus. Even with her pleading and begging, the Stone was practically dragged to the bus. Being a part of the cross-country team means coming to meets—no matter how much you didn't want to go. That was Odessa's situation.
It had been almost a week since Isaac moved in. When the boy first knocked on Scott's door, Odessa instantly offered her room for him, seeing as there was only one guest room and Odessa was already occupying it. Of course, Isaac declined, opting for the couch, but he didn't mind. For the blonde, it was a lot to live with one boy, let alone two. But seeing as the three were never really home to do anything more than sleep or occasionally study, it wasn't so bad.
The morning of the meet, Odessa could feel that something was off. As soon as she woke up, she could smell blood. She also noticed Scott's slow movements. The blonde knew that scolding him wouldn't do anything—and he was already in enough pain. Odessa didn't know what happened last night, but she knew it was bad. It was when she watched the McCall's eyes flutter, along with his pale complexion, did she decide to do something.
"Yo, Scotty," Stiles snapped his fingers to grasp his best friend's attention, "hey, yo, Scotty? Still with me?"
Scott blinked, "yeah, sorry," he spoke, avoiding a certain burning gaze from the blonde in front of him, "uh, what's the word?"
"Anachronism."
"Something that exhausts out of its normal time."
Odessa watched the two go back and forth with a sigh. She had a plan brewing in her head—she just needed to assure herself that it would work.
"Nice. Okay, next word—incongruous."
"Um, can you use it in a sentence?"
"Yes. Yes, I can," the Stilinski answered, "it's completely incongruous that we're sitting on a bus right now, on our way to some stupid cross-country meet after what just happened—incongruous."
Scott nodded in understanding, "out of place, ridiculous, absurd."
"Perfect. Okay, next word. Um, Darach. Darach, it's a noun," Stiles met his best friend's unimpressed stare, "we have to talk about it sometime, okay? And we're gonna be stuck in this thing for, like, five hours, so why not," he didn't get a reply, only receiving a tired expression. Stiles cleared his throat, "next word—intransigent."
