Fangs ⊰ d. hale ᴮᴼᴼᴷ¹

⊰six⊱

Stiles and I were gonna watch a movie once he and Dad got home, and I had permission to pick whatever I wanted.

This was gonna be exciting.

When I pulled into the parking lot of Video 2C, the place was nearly empty. There was only one other car in the parking lot and a strawberry blonde teenager was sitting in the driver seat. I couldn't make out her face though because she was staring at her phone, moving her head side to side; clearly, taking selfies. I didn't want to seem like some weird creep so I didn't really stick around to try and figure out her identity—I hardly really cared to know.

I just walked inside the video rental store, set for the horror section. It was quiet, and I only saw one other person in the store standing near where I wanted to be.

He looked up at me and gave me a frown. "Finally, some decent help," he snapped. "Where can I find The Notebook?"

I laughed at him and shook my head, crossing my arms over my chest. "Yeah, I don't work here, kid," I sassed. "Can't help ya."

The phone kept ringing nonstop and he looked annoyed with my response. But, I had to admit that he had good reason. I didn't see a single employee walking around the store, which was unusual because this place was open 24/7 and always had employees around.

I shrugged and shook off the bad feeling in my stomach. I just wanted the scariest movie I could find so that I could make Stiles piss his pants. I didn't want to worry about missing employees that were no concern to me.

So, I moved down the aisle toward the boy and the horror section. I slipped my hands into the front pockets of my jeans as the carpet muffled the clacking of my booties, my wavy hair hanging from my shoulders. He turned to study me when I started walking toward him and I recognized his face.

Great.

I ignored him checking me out as I turned down the horror aisle, looking for a movie that really called out to me. I let my fingers skim the covers of the movies, occasionally picking one up to read the synopsis on the back. 

"Hi, I'm—" I lifted my hand to stop the hormonal teen. I turned my head to see him leaning on the shelf like it was cool and would lure me in.

"I'm way too old for you and way out of your league, Jackson," I assured him.

He pushed off of the shelf and "I've never seen you around here before. How do you know me?" he asked cautiously, no longer taking interest in me. I guess my knowing his name creeped him out.

I let out a sarcastic laugh. "I've lived here my whole life, but I went away for college. I know who you are, because my brother is on the lacrosse team," I informed him.

"Oh, yeah? Who's your brother?" he asked me, crossing his arms over his chest.

Smirking, I looked up at him and stuck out my hand. As soon as he reached out to shake it, I introduced myself. "I'm Sarah Stilinski," I greeted.

His hand froze inches from mine. "Stilinski?" he asked.

I mocked a confused expression, cocking my head to the side. "Is something wrong?" I asked.

"Well, I guess I know who got the hot gene," he smirked.

I scoffed and walked passed him. This cocky prick was always a dick to my brother and Scott. I didn't like him because of it and I wasn't even remotely turned on to his charms—he was inadequate and an amateur. He didn't know what he wanted and he didn't know how to get to where he wanted to be either.

Suddenly, the strong smell of iron tickled my nose, my bad feeling from before settling back into my stomach. And as soon as I turned on my heels to step down the next aisle, the toe of my booties hit something. Slowly, I looked down and let out a shriek. My hands flew to my face and I shuffled backwards as quickly as I could.