Aspen Juniper Veata has only ever known Beacon Hills to be a quiet and dainty town. Herself, along with her best friends Scott McCall and Stiles Stilinski, had gone unnoticed by their peers in high school for as long as they could remember. Aspen ha...
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Aspen sidestepped a few seniors that were gathered outside the front doors of the school. Lydia had rushed to her counselor's appointment while Allison stayed outside on the picnic tables to finish some leftover homework. Aspen quickly twirled her hair into a low bun while Lydia's green hair stick was pressed between her lips. The pretty redhead insisted it would bring her outfit together, and Aspen knew it would have been stupid to deny her insistent request.
Seeing as her hands were occupied, Aspen's eyes slightly brightened upon seeing the glass door held open by a group of girls. She hastened her pace, her leather backpack bouncing against her hip.
"Wai wai!" Aspen murmured loudly around the hair stick that she kept in her mouth. But the group ignored her plea, and Aspen skidded to a stop once the door practically slammed in her face. She glared at the girls disdainfully through the glass and huffed through her nose. Her reflection showed strands of her hair were already slipping from place, and she cursed herself for not fixing it earlier.
"Damsel in distress?"
Aspen didn't have to look back to familiarize the voice with that of Stiles. The boy appeared by her side with a cheeky grin, gripping his backpack as he looked down at the girl.
"I love you," Aspen said as she finally stabbed the stick in her hair and dropped her hands to her side.
"I know," he sang confidently, swinging the door open and waited till Aspen stepped inside to fall in step with her down the loud, bustling hallway. Stiles glanced down at Aspen before doing a double-take and slightly leaning forward to get a better look.
Aspen raised a brow at his staring but offered a crooked smile as she adjusted the strap of her bag on her shoulder. "What?" she asked.
"Is that Lydia lip gloss?" he asked, nodding toward the dark red gloss that painted her full lips.
Aspen laughed softly and tilted her head toward Stiles. "How'd you know it was hers?" she inquired and grinned when Stiles began to gape with red-tinted cheeks.
"I'm--I'm intuitive," he said defensively with a quirk of his shoulder, letting his eyes wander the hall in search of Scott.
Aspen hummed quizzically with her lips pressed together and slightly squinted her eyes. "I think you're just Lydia-intuitive," she contradicted.
"That's not even a thing."
Aspen shrugged, "Whatever. I mean, she did wear it last Tuesday, so maybe that's why you recognize it."
Stiles barked a sharp laugh, bringing Aspen to furrow her brows at the boy, "She wore it on Thursday, not T--"
Aspen gave Stiles a teasing, pointed look, satisfied that she didn't have to press her point any farther. Stiles groaned and shoved his shoulder into her, nearly knocking her into the lockers. She revolted with pushing him back, and the boy broke into a smile as he adjusted his flannel.
