𝚍𝚛𝚞𝚐𝚜 𝚊𝚗𝚍 𝚖𝚘𝚗𝚎𝚢 | 𝚝𝚎𝚎𝚗 𝚠𝚘𝚕𝚏 [1]

peter's back

—

Ryder fidgeted in her seat.

The movements were enough to catch Austin's attention, making the teen turn his attention from the field to the girl sitting next to him.

He intertwined their fingers, "What's wrong?"

"Nothings wrong."

Austin gave her a look, "You've been anxious since we sat down. I might not be able to hear your heartbeat but I can tell when something wrong with you. I was waiting to see if you would've said anything, but you're starting draw attention to yourself."

The couple looked down, sending a smile to Jennifer and Ryder's parents as they looked up at them in confusion.

"What's going on?"

Her neck flexed as she swallowed nervously, "Something's wrong. No- i don't know what is it, but when i figure it out, i'll tell you."

Austin nodded, not wanting to push her as she was already looking around frantically, eyes darting every which way. He squinted at the girl, taking his free hand and drawing random shapes to her palm. Ryder eyed him as he began to talk about tattoos, his rambles filling her ears as he went on and on about how he wanted a new one, casually commenting on how the one on her arm made his small ink look lame.

She hardly realized how her shoulders relaxed as she began to listen intently to what he was saying. She definitely didn't notice the way Aaron raised a brow at their interaction, earning a nudge from his wife.

•••

"Your dad coming?"

Stiles nodded, gesturing to the stands, "Yeah, he's already here."

"You seen Allison?" Scott asked.

"No, saw Ryder, Austin and their parents, though. You seen Lydia?"

"Not yet."

Stiles narrowed his eyes, "You know what's going on?"

"Not yet." The McCall repeated himself.

"It's going to be bad, isn't it? I mean, like people screaming, running for their lives, blood, killing, maiming kind of bad?"

Scott hesitated, "Looks like it."

"Scott, the other night seeing my dad get hit over the head by Matt, you know, while I'm just lying there and I can't even move, it just - I want to help, you know, but I can't do the things that you can do. I can't—"

Stiles rambles are cut off by a reassuring pat to his shoulder, "It's okay."

"We're losing, dude."

Coach walked up to the two, scoffing, "The hell are you talking about? Game hasn't even started." He nodded to Stiles, "Now put on your helmet and get out there. You're in for Greenberg."