Black Water ↠ Stiles Stilinski [Teen Wolf, Vol. One]

It Has Been 0 Days Since Our Last Shenanigans

Disclaimer: 'Teen Wolf' isn't mine. Shocking, right? But it's true. If there are any similarities in content or dialogue, it has probably originated with the show.

Gif by yesalltheships of tumblr!

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Chapter One - It Has Been 0 Days Since Our Last Shenanigans

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This day was going on record as one of the worst days of her life. She was making a judgement call. To the outside viewer this might seem to be a premature assessment given that her feet had yet to touch the carpet, sequestered as they were in the tangle of her bedsheets, but Charlie Oswin had never been one for indecisiveness. Nope, she was calling it. This day was going to suck. Because today was the first day of school.

Charlie had never liked the first day of school, ever since she was a kid. Sure the first ever time back in preschool had been moderately exciting, what with the promise of new experiences, unfamiliar faces, and the alluring scent of fresh crayons. Well, that and the brightly colored backpack and superhero pencil case she had gotten out of the deal. Those had been, quite frankly, kickass. But the process had since lost its appeal. The pencil cases were decidedly less appealing these days. And it meant starting everything over again—building from the ground up.

Life was like pancakes. Charlie made the pancakes. She mixed the batter, threw them on the griddle. They came out a fluffy golden brown, steaming like the most gratuitous of IHOP commercials. And as she sat at the table to eat said pancakes, pouring the syrup on top, some asshole stepped in, stole the pancakes, and handed her a box of Bisquick. All the ingredients were in her possession, but she still didn't have any damned pancakes to eat. Just flour and disappointment. All the work, never any reward. A labored metaphor, yes, but it applied.

Plus with each move there was that inevitable moment where she would confuse the layout of the new school with the old one, turn left instead of right, and end up in the boys' locker room. Or worse, the teachers' lounge. Charlie didn't even want to begin to understand what went on in that room. Probably some satanic cult rituals. Maybe a Scrabble game. Either way, she was decidedly uninterested. But the fact remained that with the beginning of each new school year, it was like taking an eraser to a chalkboard or shaking an Etch-a-Sketch. It was obliterated—it might as well not have happened in the first place. The entire process was exhausting and redundant as hell.

Hazard of having a parent in the Coast Guard. Life was always in flux.

There had always been one constant, though. One thing that stayed the same no matter the city or the school. Her dad. Every morning on that first day she would wake up to the smell of banana pancakes—actual pancakes, not metaphorical ones—wander the few steps from her room to the kitchen, and find her dad dancing to The Rolling Stones in the most embarrassing way he could manage. It usually involved him using a ladle as a microphone and splattering batter on the floor, clad in that novelty apron with the words 'I Fish Therefore I Drink' emblazoned across the front. She would tell him he was an idiot and he would pull her into some weird swing dance step that didn't fit at all with the rhythm of the music. It was a ritual that never failed to make her roll her eyes and she never once admitted out loud that she loved.

That's what made today the second worst day of her life. Because as she fell asleep the previous night, she knew that she wouldn't be smelling banana pancakes in the morning.

A small part of Charlie wished she could pull a Rip van Winkle and sleep through the rest of high school. It was a lovely little fantasy, and the fact that her bed felt like a cloud was giving her a hug did not increase her desire to move in the slightest. She wouldn't have to start her sophomore year, she wouldn't have to deal with any of it—she could just float away on a breeze like a dandelion seed and embrace oblivion. But that little bubble she had built up for herself was quite rudely popped when the jarring strains of 'Girls Just Wanna Have Fun' came blaring from her phone.