iii. APOPHENIA

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iii. APOPHENIA

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        If there were any words to describe the enigma that is Foster, it would be stressed. She's feeling an overwhelming amount of stress coming over her like a storm that cannot be stopped, like water boiling over. It's uncontrollable and it seems as though there is no possible way for it to go away.

        She hasn't even gotten through a full week of school and she already feels overwhelmed by the schoolwork. Or maybe that's just because she hasn't been doing any of it because she's spent every possible moment with Isaac while he recovered by being attack by twins. Yes, apparently he got attacked by a set of alpha twins who combine their bodies to create something that looks virtually like the Hulk. 

        It's not like Beacon Hills was jacked up enough or anything.

        And then there's the fact that two of Foster's friends have been continuously avoiding her like the plague. She understands, really. She truly does, but this is becoming pathetic now. Allison can't even look her in the eye and Foster has absolutely no idea what to do as of right now.

        Well, actually, as of right now she's walking alongside Scott and Stiles to attend another school's party. Apparently a girl Stiles used to take bubble baths with is having her seventeenth birthday party and they're invited. 

        Unfortunately, Foster is not in the partying mood. In fact, she's in the mood to sit at home, get a nice carton of ice cream, and watch Netflix until her body passes out, and also snuggle with her cat. That works too.

        The discomfort that both she and Scott are feeling in regards to this party is pretty obvious, it written right across their faces. Stiles continues to try and ignore it, but the awkward tension soon gets the best of the boy.

        "What?" Stiles demands, glancing toward the two.

        "What do you mean what?" Scott questions, sticking his hands into his pockets.

        "I mean what, and you know what," Stiles insists, Foster raising a brow.

        "Uh - actually I don't think I know what you mean by what," Foster pipes in, Stiles letting out a groan of annoyance. "So, what what?"

        "That look," Stiles states bitterly. "Both of you are wearing it."

        "What look?"

        "It's a distinct look, Scott," Stiles continues to ramble on about, Scott glancing toward Foster in confusion which she shrugs in response to.

        "That look that says that the last thing you want to be doing right now is going to a party," Stiles clarifies, Foster realizing that she may be wearing that look. Then again, that might be because she really sin't in the mood to be going to party right now and it's the last thing she wants to do. But, you know, minor details.

        "It's not that," Scott sighs. "It just feels weird going to another high school's party."

        "What? No!" Stiles cries out, throwing his arms up into the air in frustration. "I went to nursery school with this girl, okay? She promised to introduce us to all of her friends. So, tonight, Foster, no thinking about Allison or Lydia, Scott's going to forget about this alpha pack, and we're all going to party like there's nothing to worry about. Tonight, we're forgetting about that, we're moving on, onward and upward." Stiles then points his hand up into the air, gesturing the upward part.

        Foster lets out a soft chuckle as he and Stiles slap hands, then hitting the back of their hands in what she assumes is some weird bro shake. At least, that's what she thinks it is. She walks alongside of the two boys, making their way toward Heather's house for her seventeenth birthday.

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