"Stella texted him," Allison said with a hint of jealousy evident in her voice. She was a little upset about Scott giving me his number, but I would never do that to Allison because she's my cousin. Besides, I don't see Scott as my lover, and I don't think Uncle Chris would approve of me dating a werewolf or any supernatural being for that matter.
"Stella, stop acting weird and call the number, please," Lydia asked, clearly frustrated.
"Okay, okay," I replied, pulling out my phone and quickly typing in the number.
Here goes nothing.
Me: Hey, it's Stella. Just wondering what you're up to right now?
Scott: Just at some party. Why?
Me: I just need to talk to you.
Scott: Oh, okay. The place is...
"Okay, he texted me the location," I said, getting up from Allison's bed.
"I'll drive," Allison offered, reaching for her keys.
"Mm, nope. Neither of you can drive, so it's my turn," I said, grabbing the keys from Allison and making my way downstairs.
"Well," Lydia looked shocked, trying to process the unexpected turn of events.
_____
Once we arrived at the location, we spotted Scott, who was just about to leave. As he looked up and saw me, a smile spread across his face. However, his expression quickly turned to confusion when he noticed Allison's presence.
"Wait, I thought you wa--" Scott began to ask, but Allison interrupted him.
"We need to show you something," she said quietly. Allison and Lydia huddled closely together and connected their wrists, revealing a significant mark or symbol to Scott. He examined it intently.
While they continued their conversation, I zoned out. Frankly, I didn't understand what they were talking about, and I didn't particularly care. The only thing that mattered at that moment was finding a bathroom. Turning my attention back to them, I noticed they were still engrossed in their discussion. Taking advantage of the distraction, I slowly walked towards the door and pushed it open wider, slipping inside.
"Hi, um, do you know where the bathroom is?" I approached a seemingly sober girl and asked. She pointed upstairs and gave me directions. I thanked her and followed the path she had indicated.
As I opened the bathroom door, relief washed over me. However, my relief quickly turned to surprise as I discovered Stiles Stilinski standing inside, holding a box of 'XXL' condoms.
"Stilinski, can get some?" I smirked, teasing him. He looked up at me, then hastily hid the box behind his back.
"No, I mean yes, but, um..." Stiles stumbled over his words, clearly flustered. I couldn't help but chuckle at his reaction; it was amusing to see him in such a state. I could tell this was his forest time just from the way he was acting. However, I wasn't judging him at all because, honestly, I wished I still had my own "V card."
"No, I mean yes, but like..." I mimicked him, laughing a little.
"Ha ha, very funny," Stiles replied, a hint of annoyance in his tone.
"So, who's the somewhat lucky girl?" I inquired, leaning against the doorway, still desperate to relieve myself.
"Wow, I just met you today, and you're already bashing on me," he retorted sarcastically, rolling his eyes.
"You don't have to tell me, but can you move so I can pee?" I asked, doing my best to hold it in and avoid any embarrassing accidents.
"Oh, yeah, sorry," Stiles responded, quickly stepping aside and leaving the bathroom, closing the door behind him.
As I walked back outside, Scott, Allison, and Lydia were still engrossed in their conversation about the mysterious bruises. Deciding I had no interest in joining that discussion, I turned around and made my way back towards the house. Taking a leisurely stroll, I couldn't help but notice how spacious and grand it was.
"You're still here," a voice called out, and I turned around to find Stiles standing behind me, seemingly waking up to my presence.
I glanced him up and down, noting that he didn't have disheveled hair or any signs of recent intimacy. It was clear he hadn't been with anyone.
"Still a virgin," I smirked, playfully teasing him.
"Yep, she left," Stiles replied with a hint of disappointment in his voice.
That sent me into a fit of laughter, holding my stomach as I struggled to regain my composure.
"Oh, shut up, will ya?" Stiles rolled his eyes, clearly finding my amusement a bit irritating.
"Sorry," I chuckled, still finding the situation amusing.
It seemed that Stiles had reached his limit with my laughter because when I finally opened my eyes from laughing so much, he was nowhere to be seen. I found it quite amusing that she had just left him hanging, realizing the mistake she was about to make.
Curiosity getting the best of me, I began searching for him. Eventually, I spotted him standing alone on the side. I approached him, wearing a small smile on my face.
"Sorry," I said, trying to be sincere.
He simply looked down at me and then turned his gaze back to the people dancing. I followed his line of sight.
"Want to dance?" I asked, extending my hand, waiting for him to take it.
"I can't dance," he replied with a touch of self-deprecation in his voice.
"You can't or you won't?" I questioned, genuinely curious.
"Mmm, both," Stiles replied with a hint of self-awareness.
Without hesitation, I reached out and took his hand, pulling him towards the dance floor. Determined to get him moving, I started dancing around him, hoping to inspire him to join in. However, he remained stationary, watching me intently. Not one to give up easily, I grabbed his hand and started moving with him, guiding his steps.
A small smile crept onto his face, and I couldn't help but feel a sense of accomplishment.
"There's that smile," I laughed, continuing to dance with him. Gradually, he began to loosen up, moving his body more freely. While he wasn't the most skilled dancer, he embraced the moment and gave it his all. It was evident that he had been right about his dancing abilities, but that didn't dampen the fun we were having. I chuckled to myself, appreciating his willingness to let go and enjoy the moment.
Midway through our dancing, Allison came up from behind me, determined to drag me to some guy's house named Derek Hale.
"Why?" I whined, not at all interested in getting involved in more werewolf-related stuff. I was tired of it all.
"Because you thought of it, now come on, Stella," Allison persisted, finally managing to pull me through the door of Derek's house. To be fair, she had promised we would get some food.
As we entered, Allison, Lydia, Scott, and Stiles gathered together, connecting their wrists once again. Derek, on the other hand, seemed to be examining their arms intently, as if scrutinizing every detail for hours on end.
"I don't see anything," Derek finally spoke up, a note of frustration in his voice.
"Wait, what did you just say?" I interrupted him abruptly.
"I said I don't see—" Derek began, but I cut him off quickly.
"Then what the fuck were you doing for the last 20 minutes, just casually looking at their arms for fun? No, look at it again and really see. I may be new to all this werewolf stuff, but seriously, oh my gosh, this is your pack we're talking about," I huffed, annoyed by his apparent lack of focus.
Derek gave me a sour look but begrudgingly turned his attention back to their arms. I shifted my gaze to Scott, who simply smirked and shook his head, clearly amused by the situation.
"How is a bruise going to tell me where my pack is?" Derek questioned, his annoyance still evident.
"It's the same on both sides," Scott argued, trying to make his point clear to Derek.
"There's nothing," Derek sighed, his statement triggering a surge of frustration within me. I felt the impulse to slap him and storm right back home.
"Pareidolia. Seeing patterns that aren't there," Lydia chimed in, offering an explanation for the situation.
We all exchanged glances, as if Lydia had posed the most challenging question ever presented to us.
"It's a subset of apophenia," Lydia assured us, her tone conveying a sense of confidence in her knowledge.
"They're trying to help," Scott interjected, attempting to diffuse the tension and reason with Derek.
"This one brought my psychotic uncle back to life. Thank you for that," Derek pointed accusingly at Lydia.
"And this one shot 30 arrows into me and my pack," Derek added, now directing his finger towards Allison.
I turned to look at Allison, noticing her face slightly reddening. But in that moment, I couldn't help but feel a sense of pride for her strength and resilience.
"Okay, all right, now, come on. No one died, alright? Look, there may have been a little maiming, okay, a little mangling, but no death. That's what I call an important distinction," Stiles chimed in, attempting to inject a bit of levity into the tense atmosphere.
"My mother died," Allison stated firmly, her gaze locked onto Derek's eyes.
"Your family's little honor code killed your mother. Not me," Derek retorted, his words piercing through the air.
I struggled to contain my anger, fighting the urge to punch him in the face right then and there.
"That girl was looking for Scott. I'm here to help him, not you," I spoke up, my voice laced with restrained anger.
"You wanna help? Find something real," Derek shot back, his glare intensifying.
"Derek... Give her a chance. Okay, they're on our side now," Scott attempted to reason with him, hoping to bridge the gap between us.
"Well, then maybe you should tell her what her mother was actually trying to do that night," Derek stated cryptically, stepping up to Scott, uttering something in his ear, and swiftly leaving a moment later.