2: Hang in there

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"I am so clever that sometimes I don't understand a single word of what I am saying."

-Oscar Wilde

*

"All right. Lets get an APB out on a 16-year-old redhead." My dad orders into his walkie talkie, turning back to Mrs. McCall. "Any other descriptors?"
I sigh as Stiles rushes up to them eagerly.

"She's five foot three, green eyes, fair skin, and her hair is actually strawberry-blonde." He says without a breath, correcting them. I place a hand on the worried boy's shoulder comfortingly and try to ignore the fact that my brother is a stalker.

"Thank you. Now you two, get home. I don't want you getting into any more trouble on Katie's first day back." Our dad commands, looking at the two of us strictly. We nod obediently and turn around, sending eachother discreet looks of annoyance.

The two of us walk out of the Beacon Hills hospital and begrudgingly head towards Stiles' Jeep, the one that we were supposed to share.

"My baby!" I shout dramatically, running up to it and stroking it's dusty blue hood.

"My baby acually." Stiles scoffs, shoving me lightly. I scowl before getting distracted by something behind me, something familiar. My blue eyes widen to the extent that I think they might just fall out.

"Scott!" I exclaim, launching myself into my best friend's direction joyously.

"Katie?" He asks, hugging me back lightly in confusion.

"No." I scoff sarcastically, pulling away to face the boy. "It's the fucking Queen. Yes, Katie!"

He chuckles and pulls me back into his warm embrace, smelling my hair like a creeper.

"You've been in England for too long."

"Agreed." I sigh, pulling away from the tall boy.

"Did you bring it?" Scott questions Stiles urgently, confusing me a great deal as he completely forgets me. Of course, how could I be so stupid, he was obviously here for a reason other than me since he definitely didn't expect to see me.

Stiles pulls a wad of fabric out of his pocket and I gasp.

"Ew dude, that probably has so many diseases on it." I gag, looking at the slightly bloody hospital gown.

"Yeah, well, we need to find her somehow." My twin replies, rolling his eyes at me and tossing the gown over to Scott, who catches it effortlessly.

"How's that gonna help us?" I ask, squinting my eyes at the fabric, expecting to see some kind of secret message sewn into it.

"Scott can track her scent." He states in a 'duh' tone. "Now get in the car idiot, we have to go."
I groan and get in the uncomfortable back seat behind Stiles.

"You guys are confusing." I huff, rolling my eyes.
Then a girl about our age hurries up to the window, talking to Scott in a desperate tone before getting in. I give her a strange look and raise a brow at the boys for answers, but they ignore me, speaking to the girl instead.

"But if shes turning would they actually kill her?" Stiles asks, starting the Jeep.
Turning? Kill!?

"I dont know. They wont tell me anything, okay?" The girl sighs. "All they say is, Well talk after Kates funeral when the others get here."

"What others?" Stiles asks incredulously, finally pulling out of the hospital parking lot.

"They wont tell me that either." The girl mutters, sighing in annoyance.

Caged // Isaac LaheyWhere stories live. Discover now