Summer's Darling

• Chapter Eleven •

Upon arriving at a coffee shop in town, Lydia mutters a few hello's to some locals, expertly navigating her way to a small table in the back. Stiles watches a bit awkwardly, joining others in a line that's way too long in contrast to the quality of coffee they sell. From glances over his shoulder he can see her unpacking her backpack without any hesitation. She never looks over at him, just begins her work as he continues to move forward in line. When it's his turn, he recites her order perfectly and waits awkwardly at the end of the counter with three other people, also eagerly awaiting their daily dose of caffiene. He thinks for a moment how naturally her order falls off his lips, as if time had never passed and this was just another loving summer. And he can't stop looking at her. He just can't. When their drinks are finally done, he checks to make sure hers is okay before going to the table she's chosen for them. She briefly pauses her work to pop the lid off of her coffee. She pops it back on; they've made it correctly, just as he had concluded as well.

As promised, there is no casual conversation. There is only a silent thank you for her drink before she showers him with formulas and equations until it's all he can think about. The thoughts of her and the ocean and this summer and that summer and the summer before and before have left his brain quickly and for a brief moment he can pretend nothing has changed. A very brief moment.

"Why aren't we at the beach?" she says suddenly.
This completely catches him off guard, a quick, "Hm?" leaving his lips.
She watches for a moment as his eyes stay focused on the notes before him. He flips mindlessly through the pages without even reading as he attempts to come up with some excuse. He can't rationally explain that the ocean still screams at him and that if he sits on the beach for too long he will surely lose his mind. The waves roll through his brain and consume his whole being, constantly fighting him. Suddenly his brain is off math and back on self-destruct mode.

He shrugs, speaking quietly, "I don't know, coffee? Air conditioning?" He looks up to see if she believes him. She doesn't. She takes a moment to look at him, noting how pale he is. Old Stiles would have been on the beach from morning until night and even then, he would frequently sneak out of his room for a midnight swim. He was usually tan or sunburnt (never in-between) within four days of arriving at the coast. But this Stiles, sitting before her, has been here for a few weeks and is still white as a ghost. Even she hasn't been out of the house much and is more tan than him.
"Does this count as chit chat?" He asks, in reference to her established rules.
"This is different, I initiated it." She states and begins to flip through a textbook as if that had been her cue to get back to work.
He allows himself to smile a little, "You found a loophole."
"This is chit chat. Now, what were we just working on?"
"'I'm just saying, first day and you already broke a rule? That's pretty bold."
"You're pretty bold for continuing to talk." There's a certain tone in her voice that informs his fight or flight instincts that now is the time to shut up.

//////////////////////////////

The following night, summer's darling would not leave his mind. He lay shriveled in his bed, sleep nowhere near but so close at the same time. He sighs and turns onto his side, facing the window in his room now. The ocean taunts him and for a moment he swears he sees Lydia running across the sand. He sighs again and rolls over, attempting to get the image out of his head. But then a giggle fills his ear and now he's positive that was no mirage on the beach. He sits up instantly and peers out of his window to find what he had expected; summers darling enjoying her kingdom. She's bikini clad and running up to the waves before running away from them as they wash up on the shore. She's alone but her laughs are infectious and Stiles feels that the smile growing on his face is not one worth fighting.

He's acting purely upon instinct now; throwing the covers off his body and sneaking quietly out of his room to Scott's room next door. The creak of a floorboard under foot is what wakes Scott initially until suddenly he's shaking, a harsh and low "Scott!" Being whispered in his ear. He blinks several times until the image of his best friend becomes clear before him.
His immediate thought it to check the time, "Dude, what the fuck, it's almost 1:30."
Stiles clearly does not care as he chants, "up, up!" In a whisper, nudging Scott to sit up. He does with a groan and allows Stiles to guide him over to the window. There, Scott too sees Lydia playing tag with the waves until finally she collapses on the shore, back flat against the sand as she peers up at the sky. Scott glances at Stiles, whose eyes never leave the strawberry blonde.
"And?" Scott prompts out of annoyance.
"Just needed to make sure I wasn't hallucinating.." Stiles mumbles, still fixated.

Scott, fully awake now, leaves the window and begins to shuffle through his backpack for a moment before fisting something in his hand. Then with his other hand, and being the great friend he is and knowing all too well Stiles won't go by himself, he takes Stiles by the wrist and drags him out of the bedroom. Wide eyed, Stiles asks what he's doing and begs for him to walk softer so as not to wake up his dad. Scott doesn't care, throwing open the back door and continuing to pull Stiles behind him. The protests get louder now that they're outside on the back porch and Stiles actually begins to pull against Scott's grip like a child begging their mother not to go to the dentist.

Scott let's go and opens up his other hand to reveal what he had taken from his backpack earlier; a blunt. Stiles' mouth drops slightly, "where did you–"
"Isaac, a while ago. I've been saving it and now I think is the perfect time to go see if Lydia would like to smoke some weed with her good friend Scott."
Stiles is actually baffled. This is the plan? "Scott what the fu–"
"Come or don't come, we'll have a good time either way." And with that Scott descends the back porch steps, hitting the sand and making his way towards Lydia. Stiles stood shell shocked, "I'm in my underwear!" He whisper screams after his friend but it's no use, Scott is already walking up behind Lydia, causing her to sit up and give him a smile. Stiles watches as he presents the blunt to Lydia.

She accepts.