i'd rather not get eaten by an animal just to watch scott make a fool of himself bowling.
[ 1.02 — 1.03 ]
The Monday after Lydia's party, Scott had apologized to both Allison and Willow for leaving them. Willow, of course, wasn't really upset, but it was important for him to make a better impression with Allison if he wanted to date her.
After classes ended, Willow had cheerleading practice by the lacrosse field. The repetitive screech of Coach Finstock's whistle and his yelling was the equivalent of a white noise machine after about five minutes. It was easy for most everyone to tune him out, but Willow did glance over at the lacrosse practice every now and then to see how everyone was doing so far in the season.
"McCall's gonna do it again! McCall's gonna do it again!" Finstock shouted in a mocking tone.
Willow, who was in the splits position, turned to watch with a frown. Scott must have made a mistake, resulting in Coach Finstock's teasing. Jackson was the one blocking the goal.
Scott got into position once more and charged at Jackson. Instead of easily maneuvering away and dodging him, Scott barreled into Jackson, knocking him harshly to the ground.
Willow was on her feet in a second rushing over to the field to check on her friends. Scott was kneeling over and holding his head. But Jackson seemed much worse off, clutching his shoulder which was causing him a lot of pain.
"Jackson," Willow said, dropping to his side. Coach Finstock was pushing back all of the other players that were crowding around them. Jackson clutched Willow's hand and squeezed so tight that it hurt, but she wasn't going to tell him to let go. "Danny, can you get some ice? Coach, he needs to go to the doctor."
As everyone jumped into action to take care of Jackson, no one noticed Stiles and a shifting Scott rushing to the locker room. Well, Derek Hale noticed, who was lurking near the bleachers.
And Willow noticed Derek Hale.
☽︎
Word had slowly spread around the school that week that Jackson had a separated shoulder and Scott wasn't playing in the first lacrosse game of the season. In other words, they were doomed. Willow had tried to talk to Scott and ask why he had decided to drop out after working so hard to get first line, but every time he'd just avoid her question or Stiles would pull him away.
So, Willow could only be supportive to Jackson, who wasn't dodging her or her questions. She had taken him to the doctor after practice, and after some prodding from Lydia, went with him to the hospital to have it checked on.
If Scott really wasn't going to play, then Jackson felt like he had to play, no matter how much his shoulder was hurting. That pressure led them to the hospital where Jackson was asking if he could get a steroid shot to help him through the pain for the game. Willow didn't really approve, but she still went back in the room with him while Lydia stayed in the waiting room to talk on the phone.
"I just can't believe the nerve McCall has," Jackson grumbled as they waited for the nurse to return with the shot. "He bulks up on HGH or something, then makes first line, then obliterates my shoulder, and now he's dropping out of the game. It's like he wants us to be the laughingstock of the season."
"I'm sure Scott isn't taking human growth hormone," Willow said, sighing. "He just said he's going through a lot right now."
"Yeah. So am I," Jackson said, gesturing to the hospital room. "But I'm still doing what needs to be done to play."
"Yes, but you heard what Doctor Benson said. It's dangerous to get them frequently."
"Don't worry," he said, nudging her with his good shoulder. "Getting addicted to drugs makes you ugly in the long run."
"And we all know you'd never do something to make you ugly," she said, laughing. "I also know you don't like shots, so we don't actually have to worry about you coming back willingly for more."
Jackson scoffed. "I'm not scared of shots." As he spoke, the nurse came in with the syringe in hand and Jackson tensed up as he stared at it.
Instead of teasing him, Willow did what she came to do — what Jackson didn't ask Lydia to do because he didn't want her to think he was a baby. She held out her hand, palm facing upwards as the nurse cleaned Jackson's shoulder with an alcohol swab.
"Thanks," Jackson murmured quietly, taking Willow's hand. The corner of his mouth quirked up as he eyed her instead of the needle that he definitely wasn't scared of. "No one likes getting shots."
Soon, the shot was over and done with, and Jackson had survived. As they walked out to the waiting room, Lydia hung up her phone call and walked over to them as Jackson rubbed his sore shoulder.
"Did he do it?" she asked expectantly.
"He said not to make a habit of it, but one cortisone shot won't kill me," he summarized.
"You should get one right before the game too. The pros do it all the time," Lydia stated. Jackson had to refrain from rolling his eyes. "You want to be a little high school amateur? Or do you want to go pro?"
As Lydia pulled Jackson down into a kiss, Willow turned her head. She spotted Stiles watching them, trying to hide behind a pamphlet on the menstrual cycle. Willow opened her mouth and pretend-gagged, earning a laugh from him before Jackson and Lydia parted.
As they left, Willow waved goodbye to Stiles, not having the chance to ask what he was doing in the hospital.
☽︎
Waking up to the news that the strange man who gave you a ride home from a party the week before is a murderer and had half a dead body buried in the yard of his burned-down house wasn't exactly what Willow was expecting. Somehow, Stiles and Scott were the ones to lead the police to said body in Derek Hale's yard, and he had been arrested.
Though in good news, both Jackson and Scott would be playing in the game. Willow wasn't sure what made Scott change his mind, but she wasn't complaining. It was one more friend to cheer on from the sidelines.
It was exciting to put on her maroon and white uniform for the first time. Her hair was pulled up in a bow, and Alyssa Pipes had painted a cartoon cyclone — their mascot — on her left cheek.
Before the game started, Willow ran around to see who all made it. She stopped by Melissa McCall, who took off work to come see Scott's first game.
"Hi, Mrs. McCall," she greeted, smiling. "Just wait until you see Scott. You're gonna be super proud of how much he's improved."
"Well, I'm looking forward to it. I never thought I'd see the day he'd actually be one of the players you're cheering for," she said, chuckling.
After leaving Melissa, Willow spotted Allison, who was sitting in the bleachers with her father.
"You look so adorable," Allison gushed, playfully tugging on Willow's ponytail.
"I know," she said, smiling so big her dimples appeared as she rocked back and forth on her feet. "If you get confused since it's your first lacrosse game, your best bet is to just run down to the bench and ask Stiles to explain."
"Really? I thought he'd be way too busy not playing."
"Allison! That's so mean," Willow said, doing her best not to smile. "Stiles is the sweetest. And he's not the worst on the team. Greenberg is. Last year, he missed a shot and hit Ariana at the bottom of the pyramid. The whole thing toppled over, and I broke my wrist."
"Oof," Mr. Argent said, cringing as he pictured the disaster. "I don't know how your parents let you go back to cheering after an accident like that."
"It's actually just me and my dad," she told him. "And he has a hard time telling me no. Plus, I'm gunning for a cheerleading scholarship."
"Well, I'm sure he's proud of you for already thinking about your future," Mr. Argent said, politely not focusing on Willow's lack of mother. "Is he at the game?"
"Oh, no. He was operating on someone for seven hours today," she explained. "So, he crashed as soon as he got home. I'm sure you'll meet him soon though."
"Looking forward to it," he told her.
"I've got to get started, but tell Mrs. Argent that I said hello."
"Will do."
Willow raced back to the other cheerleaders but she did stop to kiss Scott, Jackson, and Isaac on their cheeks, wishing them good luck. Stiles would've gotten one had he been playing.
As the game began, it became quite clear that Jackson instructed his teammates to keep the ball away from Scott. Even when he was wide open, no one went near him. As if not getting the ball was bad enough, Allison was helping Lydia hold up a sign that read 'Jackson is #1!'
As the final two minutes in the last quarter arrived, Beacon Hills was down by two points.
And then it was like a switch had flipped inside of Scott. He ended up getting the ball and zoomed across the field, dodging the other team expertly before making a shot.
Willow, who was lifted up in the air, waved her pompoms and screamed Scott's name as Coach Finstock instructed to pass to Scott from then on out. He came across a player for the other team who had the ball, and after a second, he tossed the ball right into Scott's stick.
A confused frown made its way onto Willow's face though she kept cheering. Did he just give Scott the ball? And then what happened after was almost just as surprising. Scott made his shot and the ball tore straight through the goalie's stick and into the net.
As everyone was cheering, Coach Finstock argued with the referee as to why that point should count. Eventually, they agreed to award Scott the point, which tied the game up.
"Come on, Lungs," Willow said under her breath as the last few seconds ticked by.
Scott had the ball once again, but three different players were ganging up on him, blocking his shot of the net. He seemed to freeze, taking deep breaths before finally acting. Everyone held their breath as he somehow managed to avoid being taken down before making the shot just as the buzzer sounded. Their goalie missed it by a hair, giving Beacon Hills the win.
Everyone flooded from the stands, cheering loudly at the first win of the season. Willow hugged the first player she saw, which was Matt. Then Allison ran over to her.
"Do you see Scott?" Allison asked, scanning the crowd.
"Um, I think I saw him run toward the locker room," Willow said, looking at the school. "Maybe he left his inhaler in there."
As Allison ran off, Willow continued congratulating the team. She also found Stiles, who was sitting on the bench and nervously chewing on the tips of his glove — what could he still be nervous about? The game was over.
"Hey, Benchwarmer," Willow greeted, running a hand over his buzzed head.
"Hey," he muttered, his eyes trained in his father. The Sheriff was standing a few feet away with a frown on his face, talking on the phone. He sighed heavily as he hung up. "Dad, what's wrong?"
"They just released Derek Hale," he informed them, rubbing his forehead. "The medical examiner found the cause of death to be an animal attack instead of murder."
Stiles had to refrain from cursing, the only one to truly know how 'animal' Derek Hale really was. But there was a look in his father's eye that told him there was something else. "What?"
"The DNA test came back to," he said. "The victim is Laura Hale — Derek's older sister."
"Oh my god," Willow whispered, her eyes wide.
Stiles had never fled so quickly. He didn't even offer an explanation to his father and Willow before rushing to find Scott.
"At least there's not an actual murderer running around," Willow breathed out, offering a smile to Mr. Stilinski.
"I've got to head back to the station. I can already feel the headache coming with all this paperwork," he said, sighing. "Get home safe, Willow."
The field emptied pretty quickly. It wasn't until Willow was back at her car that she realized she forgot her squad windbreaker back at the bleachers, the cold finally setting in now that she wasn't doing stunts to keep her warm. As she rushed back, she spotted a familiar figure picking up something off the field and joined him.
"Hey, Jackson," she said, standing by his side. He was staring down at someone's glove with a frown on his face. "Why've you got that?"
"It's McCall's," was all he said. Then Jackson held it up, showing her the holes that had been ripped through the fingertips.
"Maybe... he was biting them like Stiles does or something," Willow suggested, trying to think of what could have broken through the thick fabric.
"Or something," Jackson muttered.
Then the hairs on the back of his neck stood up, silently telling him they were being watched. When he turned his head, Willow did as well, and they spotted Derek Hale silently watching them across the field. Jackson stepped to the side a little, completely keeping her from Derek's sight. After a moment, he simply turned and left them alone.
"C - come on," Willow said hesitantly. She placed a hand on Jackson's arm. "Pizza with Lyd and Danny, remember?"
Derek Hale may not have killed his sister, but something about his still rubbed Willow the wrong way. Especially with how many run-ins she'd had with him since the beginning of the semester.
☽︎
All talk about the big win on Saturday completely ceased come Monday morning when everyone arrived at school to see a crime scene. One of the buses was covered in blood with police tape keeping everyone out. Willow avoided all windows facing it like the plague, terrified to see what had happened.
"Okay, I'm only telling you this because my parents will probably invite you over for dinner and cake," Allison said, meeting Willow at her locker that morning. Her arms were full with her books for the day.
"Cake? What's the occasion?" Willow asked, raising an eyebrow. Allison's parents practically adored Willow, quickly claiming her as their favorite of Allison's new friends.
Allison sighed heavily, as if what she was about to say would be difficult. "My birthday's in two weeks," she said, keeping her voice extremely low. Like she didn't want anyone to hear.
"Oh, I love birthdays!" Willow said excitedly. Allison quickly shushed her, looking around to make sure no one overheard. "What?"
"I just don't like to make a big deal of it," Allison told her shyly. "I, um, I'm turning seventeen.
"I figured," she said, shrugging. "You do have your license already."
"It's just embarrassing because then people do the math and figured out that I got held back a year," she explained, looking at the ground. "Like I'm stupid or something."
"Well, isn't it because you move around so much? The curriculum changes from state to state, so things are being taught different ways at different points in the year. You'd have to be a genius to be able to keep up."
Allison's shoulders relaxed and she smiled softly at her friend for understanding. "I could kiss you right now."
"Ooh, don't let Scotty hear that," Willow said, giggling. "Besides, I'll let you in on a secret — well, not a secret because everyone knows, but I'm already seventeen."
"Really?"
"Yeah," she said, nodding. "My birthday was right after the cutoff for kindergarten registration, so I had to wait a whole year. Then my birthday is always, like, the first week of school. I'll be eighteen in August."
"I feel so much better," Allison admitted, leaning her head on Willow's shoulder as she fished out the rest of her books. "I'm not the only old person."
"We are not old," she said, giggling. "C'mon, you can escort this senior citizen to chemistry before going to French."
"You won't go around telling everyone about my birthday, right?" Allison asked. "I still don't want to make a big deal about it."
"Hey, the less people know, the more cake for me," she told her, grinning. "But Lydia will probably find out. She always knows everything and she will make a big deal out of it."
"Yay," she said unenthusiastically.
"So, what do you think you want for your birthday?" Willow asked.
Before she could reply, they were interrupted by Scott suddenly backing into Allison, causing her to drop her armful of books. Both girls were startled by his sudden appearance but smiled when he turned around.
"You scared the hell outta me," Allison said, laughing a little.
"You're okay?" Scott asked, staring at Allison with wide, relieved eyes. Willow wanted to question it but instead knelt down to start picking up Allison's books. They both joined her on the ground.
"Once my heart starts beating again, yeah," Allison told him. Then she noticed how odd he was acting. "What?"
"I'm just happy to see you," he said, making Allison smile shyly.
Then the principal made an announcement over the speaker. "Attention, students, this is your principal. I know you're all wondering about the incident that occurred last night to one of our buses. While the police work to determine what happened, classes will proceed as scheduled."
"That's kind of inconsiderate," Willow whispered under her breath. Someone was likely dead because of the horrific incident on the bus. She'd prefer to not be at school when they moved the body.
"Save us a seat at lunch?" Allison asked Scott, ready to head to her French class while Willow planned to follow Scott to chemistry.
"Yeah," he agreed, obviously.
After parting from Allison, Willow and Scott made their way to chemistry class. The whole time, Scott seemed extra jumpy. And he paled when he realized they could see the ambulance and first responders from the window.
Willow took her seat near the front and did her best to keep her head turned from the window as she took notes. She didn't want to see anything going on, unlike some of the nosier students.
"Mr. Stilinski," Mr. Harris suddenly snapped, interrupting his own lecture. Stiles and Scott had been whispering to each other the entire class period. "If that's your idea of a hushed whisper, you might want to pull the headphones out every once in a while. I think you and Mr. McCall would benefit from a little distance, yes?"
"No," Stiles said pathetically. Jackson, who was Willow's lab partner, smirked as they got in trouble. Stiles and Scott both had to relocate.
"Let me know if the separation anxiety gets to be too much," Mr. Harris said sarcastically.
"Hey," a girl, Daniella, said, looking out the window. "I think they found something."
Everyone got up and crowded around the window. Willow bit her lip nervously as the paramedics rolled a man on a gurney toward the ambulance. She thought she heard Scott whisper something about a rabbit, but she wasn't paying enough attention.
Then the man suddenly jerked forward, screaming loudly. Those in the classroom yelled in surprise, and Willow jumped back in fear. Even though the man was on the other side of the parking lot, and whatever had hurt him was gone, it was still frightening. Jackson rubbed her clenched fist and pulled her away from the window, not wanting her to see any more.
☽︎
The man who was attacked on the bus was all anyone could talk about for the rest of the day. As lunch rolled around, Lydia found out that Willow and Allison were planning on sitting with Scott and Stiles, and that meant the entire group would be joining them.
"We'll figure it out," Stiles was saying, thinking their werewolf discussion wouldn't be overheard.
"Figure what out?" Lydia asked, setting her tray on the table before taking a seat beside Scott.
Both boys looked at her with wide eyes, wondering why she was there. "Just, uh, homework," Scott lied.
"Yeah," Stiles mumbled. Then he leaned in to whisper to Scott. "Why is she sitting with us?"
"I can help with your homework if you need it," Willow said, taking one of the seats by Stiles. Allison took the other seat next to Scott, who had left his jacket there to save it.
They were also joined by Danny, who sat on Stiles' other side, and a boy on the baseball team. Willow felt uneasy, seeing that it was Chase from the party that first week of school. Sober, he was harmless, but she'd never forget how he grabbed her — the bruise had only just disappeared.
Willow didn't have to worry for long because Jackson arrived and shoved Chase's shoulder. "Get up."
"How come you never ask Danny to get up?" Chase asked, scoffing.
Danny narrowed his eyes at him. "Because I don't stare at his girlfriend's coin slot or feel up his best friend without permission at a party."
Chase's eyes went wide and he dared to glance at Willow before Jackson practically dragged him from the chair and pushed him toward another table. Willow smiled thankfully at Danny and Jackson.
"So, I hear they're saying it's some type of animal attack," Danny told them, changing the subject to the bus incident. "Probably a cougar."
"I heard mountain lion," Jackson said, though they could tell he didn't really care.
"A cougar is a mountain lion," Lydia muttered, rolling her eyes. Then she covered up the remark with a wide-eyed, confused look. "Isn't it?"
Willow smiled down at her plate of fries at Lydia's clueless act.
"Who cares?" Jackson asked, rolling his eyes. "The guy's probably some homeless tweaker who's gonna die anyway."
"Actually, I just found out who it is. Check it out," Stiles said, holding out his phone for all of them to watch.
The news reporter on the screen was standing just outside of the school, the bus closed off with police tape in the background. "The Sheriff's department won't speculate on details of the incident but confirmed the victim, Garrison Meyers, did survive the attack. Meyers was taken to a local hospital where he remains in critical condition."
"I know this guy," Scott stated as it showed Meyers' photo.
"You do?" Allison asked.
"Yeah, when I used to take the bus back when I lived with my dad. He was the driver," he explained.
"That's horrible," Willow said, frowning.
"Can we talk about something slightly more fun, please?" Lydia asked, sighing. Then she perked up and looked at Scott and Allison. "Like, oh, where are we going tomorrow night? You said you and Scott were hanging out tomorrow night, right?"
Allison and Scott looked very put on the spot, not expecting for Lydia to invite herself along. "Um, we were thinking of what we were gonna do," she told her.
"Well, I am not sitting home again watching lacrosse videos, so if the four of us are hanging out, we are doing something fun," Lydia said. "Five if Willow is in."
"I'm good," she said, not wanting to be a fifth wheel to the double date that was already sure to be awkward. "And isn't there a mandatory curfew?"
"So?" was all Lydia said, clearly not caring. But Willow didn't want to worry her dad by being out at night.
"Hanging out? Like, the four of us? Do you wanna hang out, like us and them?" Scott asked Allison.
"Yeah, I guess," she replied, forcing a smile. "Sounds fun."
"You know what else sounds fun? Stabbing myself in the face with this fork," Jackson told them. Willow reached across the table and snatched the fork from him, making him smile a little.
"How 'bout bowling?" Lydia asked Jackson, trying to get him on board. "You love to bowl."
"Yeah, with actual competition," he muttered.
Allison smirked at him. "How do you know we're not actual competition?" Then she looked to Scott. "You can bowl, right?"
"Sort of," he mumbled.
"Is it sort of, or yes?" Jackson asked, staring him down challengingly.
"Yes," Scott stated. "In fact, I'm a great bowler."
Willow bit her cheek to keep from smiling. She could recall her fourteenth birthday party which was at the bowling alley. The words 'great bowler' and 'Scott' absolutely could not be used in a sentence together unless you added the word 'not' in there somewhere.
Perhaps Willow could have warned Allison, but where was the fun in that?
☽︎
Willow sat cross-legged on Allison's bed, finishing her Economics worksheet with a blue glitter gel pen — Coach Finstock liked when she wrote in glitter and added smiley faces, claiming it made grading more fun. While she worked, Lydia was helping Allison pick out an outfit, or more accurately, insulting her entire wardrobe.
After a long line of 'pass'es, Lydia finally got up and began combing through Allison's closet herself. "Pass. Pass. Uh, pass on all of it. Allison, my respect for your taste is, uh, dwindling by the second," Lydia told her as she pushed several garments aside.
"What about that sparkly black blouse?" Willow asked absentmindedly, not even looking up from her paper.
"Perfect," Lydia agreed, digging for the sequenced top. She held it out to Allison. "This."
As Allison contemplated the top, her door opened and Mr. Argent walked in, glancing at his watch. Allison looked at him with wide eyes as he began putting on his coat.
"Dad, hello?"
Chris smiled but then grimaced apologetically, realizing he had barged in. "Right. I'm sorry. I completely forgot to knock."
Lydia eyed Chris up and down before throwing herself on the bed. Willow moved her schoolwork to the side, a small, amused smile on her lips.
"Hi, Mr. Argent," Lydia greeted, practically leering at the adult.
"Dad, do you need something?" Allison asked.
"I wanted to tell you that you'll be staying in tonight," he informed her.
"What? I'm going out with my friends tonight," she said, shaking her head.
But obviously, the concerned father wasn't budging. "Not when some animal out there is attacking people."
"Dad, dad, I'm - uh—"
"It's out of my hands," Chris interrupted her, not letting her argue over it. "There's a curfew. No one's allowed out past nine-thirty p.m.." He sighed at the pout on her face. "Hey, no more arguing."
As Chris left the room, Allison tossed the shirt on the bed defeatedly. Lydia got up and smirked at her. "Someone's daddy's little girl."
"Sometimes," Allison said, a determined look on her face. "But not tonight."
Willow looked up from her assignment with a confused look on her face as Allison grabbed a black knit cap and put it on. Then she walked over to her window, which she opened and climbed out of, stepping onto the roof.
"What are you doing?" Lydia asked, sticking her head outside. Willow watched as Allison did an impressive flip off the roof, landing safely on the grass below.
"Eight years of gymnastics," Allison informed them, grinning. "Are you guys coming?"
"We'll take the stairs," Lydia stated, shaking her head.
"Let me get my things," Willow said, piling her stuff into her backpack.
"You sure you don't want to come?" Lydia asked, waiting for her by the door.
"No," she said, shaking her head. She didn't mind hanging out with Jackson and Lydia together, but adding a second couple might make her feel extra lonely. "I kind of agree with Mr. Argent — I'd rather not get eaten by an animal just to watch Scott make a fool of himself bowling."
"Your loss," Lydia simply said.
The girls made their way down the stairs, ceasing all talk about bowling, as they didn't want Allison's parents to overhear and figure out that she was sneaking out.
"You girls get home safe," Chris said as they reached the front door. He had been talking with his wife in the living room. "You'd better go straight home."
"Of course," Lydia said, smiling charmingly at him as she lied.
"I have to run dinner to my dad at the hospital, but I should make it home right before nine-thirty," Willow explained. "Have a nice night, Mr. and Mrs. Argent. Thanks for letting us come over."
"Kiss ass," Lydia playfully whispered as they stepped outside. Willow simply smiled and nudged Lydia with her shoulder. They met Allison at Lydia's car.
"Have fun at your hang out," Willow told her in a teasing tone. She knew how much Allison and Scott wanted alone time.
Then the girls split up, Allison and Lydia heading to the bowling alley, and Willow driving through a Wendy's to grab something for her father.
And okay, maybe Willow wasn't going to make it back home before the curfew hit. But how was she to know she was going to run out of gas on the way back? So, Willow had to turn around and find a gas station, as she didn't think she'd have enough to make it home.
The gas station was empty when she arrived and continued to be so as she pumped the gas. It wasn't until she ran in to pay with cash and buy a few snacks that it really got popular. Of course, she didn't pay the multiple cars any mind — it was a gas station after all. But the door rang as she exited, drawing attention to herself.
"Willow?"
Her eyes snapped up from the bag of Skittles she was trying to open and saw that it was Mr. Argent that had spoken. He was with several other men she had never seen, and they were crowded around a guy pumping gas into a familiar black Camaro. Derek Hale. His green eyes were boring into her.
"Hello," she greeted shyly, keeping her gaze on the only person she really knew.
"It's past the curfew," Chris said in a stern tone. He also stepped in between Willow and Derek's line of sight. The last thing he needed was Allison's sweet human friend around when he was busy threatening a werewolf.
"I - I know," she muttered, feeling bad. Even if it was only like ten minutes past nine-thirty. "I was on the way home, but then my tank was empty, and I didn't have enough gas to make it home, so I had to turn around. I shouldn't have let my car get that low on gas."
"No, you shouldn't have. Get home, Willow," Chris told her. "And text Allison when you arrive so that we know you're home safe."
"Of course," she said, nodding. "Goodnight, Mr. Argent."
Willow scurried to her car as quickly as she could. She could feel multiple sets of eyes on her even as she got in and started the car. None of them had moved or gone back to talking to each other — well, threatening — until Willow pulled out of the parking lot.
As the gas station disappeared in the distance, her music was too loud to hear the sound of a window being smashed.