Crazy about you - Lydia Martin

| 05 |

When he returned to the game on his phone, the grin quickly disappeared, her knuckles turning white as she clutched the steering wheel. 

🐺

Oliver hated school, just like any other teenager, and Mondays were his worst enemy. But just that day, he absolutely despised it. His day had started with a scolding from Mr. Harris in front of the whole class and ended with Ms. Flemming telling him that if he didn't focus more on his studies, he would need to repeat his Sophomore year. It was only week two of school.

So as he stood with his head leaning against his locker door, frustration flooding through his veins, the last thing he needed was a confrontation by Lydia Martin. But it seemed like the world hated him at that moment and brought him just that.

"Excuse me?" the voice Oliver thought of as angelic rang through his ears with a hint of offense in it, making him quickly push away from the locker to look at her. Lydia stood in front of him, arms crossed over her chest as she quirked an eyebrow at him.

He was yet again surprised by the power and intimidation that flowed through the 5'3 girl.

He ran a hand through his hair, trying to play it cool as he nodded his head. "Yeah, what?" the words tumbled out of his mouth at such speed that they merged together, making Lydia furrow her eyebrows. She opened her mouth to speak but soon shook her head, putting on an obviously fake smile instead.

"You didn't come to my party. Even after I personally invited you and you said you would "definitely be there" you didn't make an appearance. Not for a second." she stated, tilting her head slightly. "Why?"

Oliver blinked a few times, trying not to blurt out anything random. "Uh, my sister got hurt. I had to stay home with her," he explained, making Lydia raise her eyebrows. "You couldn't have texted me that?" her question caught him off guard, but after repeating it in his head a few times, he grinned at her.

"I didn't know I needed to do that. Did everyone who didn't show up text you?" he asked as he adjusted the strap on his bag, pretending not to see how her cheeks flushed red. Lydia cleared her throat, flipping some hair over her shoulder. "Just inform me if you can't come next time," she said plainly, smiling a tight-lipped smile.

At her words, Oliver beamed his eyes brightening with excitement. "There will be a next time?" once again Lydia's chees flushed red, and she rolled her eyes before walking away. Oliver, however, did a little victory dance before hurrying off to the locker rooms.

🐺

The first thing Oliver did when he walked into the boys' locker room was to glare at a seemingly freaking-out Scott. Stiles stood next to the boy, wearing a rather frantic look on his face. Instead of walking up to the duo and talking to them like he usually does, Oliver walked straight past them, choosing to change in a corner along with some other teammates.

Out of the corner of his eye, Oliver could see Stiles trying to calm their friend down by shoving his lacrosse gear into his arms. The technique didn't really appear to work since Scott stalked out of the room with a very uncertain expression on his face.

He could hear Stiles approaching him just a second later, the lightness in his steps being clear signs of hesitation. He stopped just a few feet away, a small sigh leaving his lips before he spoke in his version of a "hushed whisper".

"So apparently Allison's dad is a werewolf hunter. He shot Scott in the woods after the party." Oliver's eyebrows shot up in surprise, his mouth slightly agape. He stood up completely, peering down at his slightly shorter best friend. "Are you serious?" Oliver asked after a moment of silence.