Pretty Reckless ━━ Derek Hale [1] [Completed]

chapter eleven | werewolves and alcohol don't mix

11 // Chapter Eleven

Werewolves and Alcohol Don't Mix

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        "You okay?" Tate asked, siting down next to Clara on the couch in the living room. Clara was sitting on the couch, her legs sprawled out with a blanket on top of her. Her head was resting on her hand since he arm was prompt up on the couch railing. This is how its been for the past few days; Clara sitting on the couch. drinking tea and doing nothing more. Tate thought she was just coping with the events from that night in the school. What Clara didn't share was that fact she was suffering from a broken heart.

        "No." She answered blankly. Besides the heartbreak, Clara wanted nothing more than to feel nothing. To feel numb and immune to any sort of feelings and emotions what so ever. Clara hasn't spoken to Lydia or Allison, not really wanting to anyway. Stiles and Scott, on the other hand, called a few times just to make sure how she was doing.

        "It will get better." Tate tried to reassure her. He could sense that something was off with her. Tate knew her well enough to know that when anything she's going through her depression, she doesn't like to show that she's upset.

        "When?" Clara asked, shrugging her shoulders, "Tomorrow, in a week, when?"

        He sighed, "Your pain will fade, eventually. It just takes time." Tate placed a hand on her knee, rubbing it soothingly before getting up and walking upstairs.

        Clara didn't want it to take a while. She wanted all the pain to be over and done with. She didn't want to feel this way but then again, no one does. In her midst of her doing nothing, Clara's phone rang. When she looked down at the screen, it was Stiles as the caller ID.

        She answered it, "Hello?"

        "Claaaraa...." Stiles voice trailed, holding out her name with his voice high pitched and slurring a tad bit, "What up, sista?"

        Her face scrunched up in confusion, "Stiles? Are you okay?'

        "Me? Oh I'm amazing. Why did I call you?" He asked himself, mumbling under his breath before fully speaking, "Oh right. So I'm trying to cheer Scott up by getting him and myself drunk. Do you want to join us?"

        "I don't think so. Werewolves and alcohol don't mix." She joked. Clara didn't care if she was depressed and heartbroken, she sure as hell wasn't going to show her true emotions.

        "Dude, you know, she's just one - one girl. You know, there are so many - there are so many other girls in the sea." Stiles slurred and Clara guessed that Stiles was talking to Scott even though he was still on the phone

        "You mean fish?" Clara heard Scott mumbled on the other line.

        "Fish? Why you talking about fish? I'm talking about girls. I love girls. I love 'em. I love especially ones with strawberry blond hair, green eyes, 5'3" - "

        "Lydia?" Clara questioned, raising her brows, amused with drunken Stiles's behavior.

        "Yeah, exactly. Hey, how did you know I was talking about - about - What was I talking about?' Stiles chuckled and Clara could imagine the stupid yet silly grin on his face, "I gotta go, Clara. Bye-Bye!"

        With one lasting chuckle, Stiles hangs up. Clara knew that Stiles was something else, always thinking of crazy and new ideas that would most likely get someone in trouble. But getting Scott and himself drunk was definitely a new blow for him.