SLOWLY BEING REWRITTEN!
People say we're products of our parents. that all of their good traits are passed onto us, that we pick up the bad traits along the way.
But what if our parents have no good traits? What does that make us?
Are we all bad?
K...
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creatures of the night
Where the hell are they? Kinsey Argent asked as she packed back and forth through the library, a string of students passing her, staring at the flailing girl who was on the edge of a panic attack. It had all been planned out. The whole group would meet here early, claiming the perfect spot for their names, claiming themselves as seniors. She had spent months planning it, working around Kira's flight back into town, around the full moon, around someone needing to pick Malia up. All of it had been planned out to the smallest details, then, a storm hit them, screwing up her plans to make sure that this was the perfect night for everyone.
Rather than being happy that she had made it to her senior year, she was stressed out, ready for Stiles to walk through those doors so she could strangle him. He was an hour late. Not only that, but he was ignoring her calls, declining them so that she had to listen to that annoying voicemail that made it sound like he had answered her calls.
Lydia sat back and watched her flailing friend, filing her nails as she occasionally peered back to the door that the pack should be walking through any moment now. She was a little worried, the four of them were an hour late, even a storm wasn't capable of that, but for the sake of her Angel best friend, she kept it to herself, choosing to act as though her freaking out was unjustified. The last thing Kinsey needed was an actual reason to be paranoid.
The dark-haired girl took a seat, trying to calm herself down as her heeled boots clicked rapidly on the tiled floor as her leg bounced up and down, her long fingernails tapping on the table, she was unbearable when she was stressed. She couldn't rest. She had been talking about this night since she had found out what senior scribe was, so many things had already changed about how she wanted this night to go, when she had solidified the plans months ago, she expected that all of it would pan out exactly how she anticipated. This wasn't what she envisioned.
"I still don't understand why you're so insistent on making tonight perfect," Lydia admitted, with a scowl, the brunette questioned if she was serious, it was something she had explained at least a million times. "I know, I know, it's a celebration that we're still alive, that our lives have taken a turn for the better, whatever other bullshit you want to tell yourself to convince yourself that you aren't happy with your life." The Banshee spoke truthfully.
"I am happy with my life," Kinsey argued with her. "I had a great summer. Stiles and I are as great as ever. I visited Cora. We haven't had anything deadly and supernatural happen in months-"
"And you hate it." Lydia interrupted her. "You know you do. You miss the thrill of being in danger. You've spent an entire summer as a normal teenager and it bored you. You aren't made to be the normal Beacon Hills teen, and we all know it. I mean, come on, Kinsey, the red hair? Moving back in with me after you said you were going to stay with Stiles? Even inviting Isaac tonight. You have spent the past four months trying to get back last summer."
