I'm No Werewolf (The Rewrite) // Stiles Stilinski x OC

The Lost Bet

"And I'm proud of you" she said, reaching out to touch her knee, "I know you found it difficult moving, but you seem to have settled in really well".

'Really well' might have been a bit of an exaggeration, but she thought – all things considered – she had done not too bad at adjusting and not going off the rails again.

"It's been hard" she admitted, "but good, I think. Fresh start and everything. Back home had a lot of... unpleasant memories".

Jane smiled in sympathy, "you can still miss it though. You grew up there. You had lots of friends there. You had a life. It's okay to grieve that".

"I know" she nodded, "and I do – sometimes. But I also burned a lot of bridges and hurt a lot of people. It's a miracle my friends back home still want to talk to me".

"But you, unlike Ron, put in the work" her aunt continued, "you went to rehab. You recovered. You made amends. You came back to us" she smiled, "you could've kept running but you didn't. You held your hands up and admitted you did wrong. You took accountability. That's what matters".

"Yeah... yeah, I suppose..."

"Kayla, look at me" Jane coaxed, her voice soft and sweet like a lullaby, "don't diminish your progress. It's something you should be insanely proud of. What young girl, at fifteen years old, can say she went through losing her family – twice – an abusive relationship, an addiction to drugs, going to rehab and, well..."

It was still a sensitive subject that other thing, hence why Jane probably faltered but Kayla knew exactly what she was referring to.

"You've done amazing" Jane continued, noticing Kayla's sad look, "celebrate it. Celebrate yourself".

"I know. I know that's what I'm meant to do. Celebrate the little wins and be grateful for every day that I'm alive and well and not falling down that dark hole, but I just... can't. What if I slip up again?"

"Is that what you're scared of?"

"All the damn time" she admitted, "as much as I hated those months, it took me away from reality. I didn't have to exist as me, and it's tempting to be like that again sometimes. Especially..."

Her aunt quirked a brow, urging her on.

"... Especially with the way things are here sometimes. With mom" she clarified, "our relationship was strained before, but now it's almost unbearable. She doesn't trust me, and I don't blame her for that, but I know she hates me and everything I represent. I know she wishes I died instead of Dylan".

"Oh honey, don't say that-"

"Why not? It's true" she shrugged, "and honestly? I've come to terms with it. But nothing I do is ever right. Nothing I ever do is enough. She just thinks I'm a druggie whore".

"I really don't think she thinks that" Jane reassured, shaking her head, "she's your mom".

"Is she?" she asked, "because she's never been a mom to me. Not really. We both know it. You were the one that spoke to me about periods and showed me how to use tampons and, when I started experimenting, you made sure I was safe and knowledgeable about sex without judgement. When I got in trouble, I called you. When I learnt I liked boys and girls, I spoke to you. When I tried weed for the first time and freaked out, I reached out to you. You held my hand at Dad and Dylan's funerals. You helped me understand how dangerous Aiden's and I's relationship was. You got me into rehab and visited me. You were the one that didn't give up on me. She did – a long time ago".

Jane remained quiet, soaking up all that emotion and coming to the difficult terms that her sister wasn't the most devoted or present mom which, she had struggled to understand, considering Jody had basically raised her herself as they did not have a maternal or present mother, eventually ending up in the foster care system.