Stiles stumbled out of his Jeep
and shoved he door shut, his grip fumbling with the straps of his backpack as
he shrugged it up onto his shoulders and shuffled over to the path. He kept his
eyes on his feet, trying not to trip as his shoes scuffed against the concrete.
He made his way out of the carpark and along the side of the school where large
blue double doors led into the hallways full of lockers. He turned down the
path that led up to the blue doors and froze, his eyes falling upon the figure
who slouched back against the brick wall beside the stairs.
The older boy’s leather jacket hung
heavy on his broad shoulders, the worn black leather melting into the shadows.
His stern features and cold composure made him look a good few years older than
he was; the sleepless shadows under his eyes didn’t help either. His
raven-black hair was short and tousled, and the soft whiskers of an unshaved
pubescent stubble cast a shadow across his jaw, highlighting and framing his