DEAD BODIES AND HOT GIRLS

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WOLF MOON

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c h a p t e r o n e


Walking around her room and bopping her head to "Cooler Than Me," Carson finds an outfit for the first day of school.

"Hm, blue sweater or red?" she talks to herself.

Hearing a wrap at her window, she pauses. The house was empty, so it couldn't be her parents, she didn't have any hookups for the night, and Sprinkles, her beloved cat, was sound asleep. So what was the noise?

Hoping it was just a really wonky tree branch, she grabs her hairbrush, slowly approaching the window.

Suddenly, Stiles pops into her view, knocking her on her butt.

"Stiles! What the hell?" she glares.

"What? Why are you carrying your hairbrush?" he asks, hands held up in defense as she smacks his arm a few times.

"I was worried you were a murderer," she flips her hair, putting up the brush, while he takes in her appearance.

She was very simply dressed, grey sweats hanging low on her hips paired with a sports bra, accentuating her near-perfect physique. All those years of sports did her justice.

"And that was your weapon of choice? You don't have a baseball bat or something?" he chuckles, knowing the answer to that.

"My brother played lacrosse not baseball," she responds. "And this was the first thing I saw."

"It's a good thing I wasn't a murderer then."

"What are you doing here?" she goes back to her closet, looking for a pair of boots for tomorrow.

"So I was listening to my dad's police radio," he starts, sitting on her bed. Well, before she glares him off of it, leading him to her desk chair instead. She had a thing about dirt, and didn't like people sitting on her bed with outside clothes.

"Nothing new," she snickers, as she hums the song.

"And guess what we're gonna do?" he says.

"We aren't doing anything," she rolls her eyes, until they light up with mischief. "Unless you're finally gonna do a face mask with me."

"No. We're finding a dead body," he enthuses, and her face falls.

"Okay, nope. I'll see you at school. Absolutely not," she pushes him to the window.

"Why not?" he pouts.

"Because bodies are nasty and I need my beauty rest," she says in a "duh" tone.

"Yes, because the prettiest girl in school needs more beauty," he rolls his eyes.

"Look, I have swim practice, I can't. Let me know how it goes?" she asks, somewhat taken aback by his compliment. He was never that bold nor direct.

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