hold me closer

19

"We should have left him chained to the tree," Stiles said, looking at Scott.

"Just drive," I told him, looking out the window.

Stiles parked in the lot at Beacon Memorial. Liam followed Scott to find his father and we stayed back in the lobby. Luckily, the hospital still had power. Malia turned her phone on, staring at it anxiously.

"I'm sure you passed," I told her, grabbing her hand. I instantly pulled away after she gave me a slight glare. "You'll pass."

"That can be interpreted a lot of ways," said Stiles, walking towards us with Scott.

"Like what?"

"Well, like, 'Don't worry, we're not exclusive. Go have fun with other guys,'" Stiles said.

"No. No way," Scott said.

"Guys, if you were going away, and me or your boyfriend told you, 'Don't worry, go have fun,' what would you think we were talking about?"

"Fun like sightseeing, bowling," I responded.

"Or sex with other guys?" Malia added.

"Okay, yeah," Scott spoke. "Now, I'm worried."

A medic passed by saying, "Twenty-five-year-old male, unrestrained driver involved in... "

"Hey, Mom? Where's all this coming from?" Scott asked.

"A jackknifed tractor-trailer on 115 caused a major pile-up," she answered, then left.

"Okay, there's only one way back into Beacon Hills from the airport," I said.

Scott sighed. "115."

"Kira's never gonna make it," Stiles said in a low voice.

"I can get her," Scott said determinedly, heading out the exit. "You guys head to the school. Lydia's probably already there. We'll meet you by midnight."

"How are you gonna get to her in the middle of a traffic jam?" Stiles asked.

"We'll make it," he assured. "Trust me."

:::

"Nothing from Scott or Kira," I informed as we walked under the roof of the high school.

"And nothing from Lydia, either," Stiles said.

"And I still don't know if I passed," Malia said, looking at her phone. "I don't want to do this unless I'm actually a senior."

"Yeah," he acknowledged. He turned around, surprised by Malia.

"What's wrong with you?" Malia asked. "You smell terrible."

"Yeah, it's called anxiety," he responded. "Should be a familiar scent for you by now since it's pretty much a constant state for me."

"Why's this thing so important to you?" Malia asked.

"It's not... It's not."

"Stiles?" I said, giving him a look.

"I don't know, maybe it is," he confessed. "I asked my dad the other day about his high school friends. Guess how many he still talks to? None. Not a single one. You know, these were his best friends, and he just says he lost touch with them, you know. So I started thinking about things like I always do."

"Obsessively," Malia stated.

"Yeah. And so, I'm thinking, what if... What if Scott's my best friend now, you know, but he's not my best friend for life?"