Emma's P.O.V:
As I go to my locker, I notice a very curious thing: Scott and Allison are right across the hall. They're both looking at each other and smiling. Is this cute or weird? Because she looks like a really pretty girl with actual sense of fashion and...well, Scott had never had a girlfriend before, to say the least.
Again, he is my best friend and I love him...but come on, let's be honest here.
Lydia Martin approaches Allison before I have the chance to and I presume she is complimenting her jacket. I saw it first, though.
If Allison is as pretty as I think she is, she won't hang out with Lydia's clique. Oh, boy, I don't have many friends now that I think about it.
Who am I kidding; I only hang out with Scott and his dumb friend.
What if Allison is my only chance to make a real friend? I should talk to her. If Lydia could just go away, I'd be happy.
Before anyone notices I'm standing in the middle of the hall, I walk towards Scott. I notice Jackson joined the little meeting, just perfect. Just as I reach him, Stiles appears out of nowhere. Can't I get a rest of him?
They aren't talking about anything in particular and I'm not saying anything because I am still offended. If Scott is Batman and Stiles is Robin, then what the hell am I? Third wheels are nothing, so I am beyond offended by Scott and his behaviour.
"Can someone tell me why the new girl is here over five minutes and she's already hanging out with Lydia's clique?" a girl I've never seen in my life asks us.
"Because she's hot," Stiles states with a sigh, "beautiful people hang out together."
I roll my eyes at his hormonal comment.
"Can I disagree with that? You don't see me hanging out with Lydia Martin, thanks."
Stiles narrows his eyes and give me a questioning look.
"What? I'm hot, am I not?"
His eyes widen and he agitatedly moves on his spot, the girl that came here disappeared the next second. Okay then...
"How am I supposed to know if you're hot or not?" Stiles asks me instead of answering a simple yes or no question.
"Because you are a boy..." I state slowly for him to understand. "Unless...oh, don't tell me! I knew it! So you like Danny now?"
"What? What the hell is wrong with you, Emma? I'm not gay!"
He keeps moving his hands; I swear Stilinski has a problem.
"Then why can't you just tell me I'm not beautiful and it's over?"
"Because you actually are beautiful; okay?!"
It is my turn to look at him with wide eyes. Did Stiles Stilinski compliment me? As in saying I am beautiful?
Both butterflies and awkwardness fill my stomach and for the first time in a while, I don't know what to tell him next.
I hear noise behind me and I break eye contact with Stiles to witness Lydia and Jackson stealing my future best friend.
"See you at the field?" Scott asks me out of nowhere.
"Um, yeah, why not..."
I don't have anything else to do and Lydia will most likely be there with Allison.
I wonder if Scott heard Stiles earlier. He seemed pretty zoned off. Oh well.
Stiles' P.O.V:
"But if you play, I'll have no one to talk to on the bench. Are you really going to do this to your best friend?" I complain while we walk to the field.
I really don't care if Scott is playing, to be honest. It's his dream and "his social life depends of it" like he's telling me right now.
I could get used to being alone on the bench. I can think about how my life is terribly boring.
My mind goes back to Emma and what I said to her this morning. How stupid of me! Telling her she's beautiful? We're supposed to hate each other!
Although that's not totally true. We're just supposed to be mean to each other.
I don't hate her, I don't like her; she's just Scott's annoying friend and that's it.
To understand this better, we have to go back to our beautiful childhood in Beacon Hills, when we were basically the same we are now, but without hormones.
We were eight when I realized I liked her like that. Having my mom at the hospital and being a really weird kid didn't allow me to express my innocent feelings for her. And because she was-and still is-best friends with Scott, when we turned thirteen he told me to "please don't mess it up by dating her."
So long story short, I needed a way to keep talking to her without showing my feelings by accident and so I came up with the whole "Being mean to Emma Plan." Oh, and I also pretend I like Lydia. She is a pretty girl, too, but she's not Emma.
Eventually I got over my crush on Emma. I took me like six months or so. But I kept being mean to her every now and then. Just for fun, because at first she just used to avoid me but now she fights back.
It's funny when we argue. What isn't funny is that she seems to really hate me. And as I said before, that's not the case.
Coach is talking to Scott. I glance at the bleachers and see Allison and Lydia, but no signs of Emma. She said she'd come, though.
I rather her not coming; she won't stop saying lacrosse is a waste of time and reminding me that every single player is more good looking than me. She's so infuriating.
"Does Coach know that Scott is not a goalie?" Emma appears out of nowhere and sits beside me on the bench. I jump a little and try to recompose myself.
"Hey, I-um, yeah, I don't really think he cares," I cough and try to act normal.
I wonder why she doesn't hate me right now.
"Hey, listen...about earlier...I just wanted to-"
"Lee! What are you doing? This bench is for players only!" Coach screams.
Ah, right. First time in years she is being nice to me and he has to ruin it!
"Oh, fuck. Just...thanks, for what you said. You didn't have to, though!" she half yells as she walks away.
Of course I didn't have to! As I said before, my crush on her was long forgotten ages ago! Altough, can you blame me? I didn't see her the whole summer...
I focus my attention on Scott. He seems to be having trouble playing goalie. I can also tell something is definitely wrong about him; it has been the whole day. I mean, the entire pencil thing with Allison? Like he knew she needed one.
I silently groan as Scott stands up. How will he make it to first line like this?
The rest of the team throw balls at him but he surprisingly catches them all. I cheer at Scott; he's freaking amazing! I didn't know he could do that.
Jackson's turn: he throws the ball with anger and next thing I know is that Scott caught it.
I cheer and hear Emma cheering on the bleachers. I turn around and we share a smile before she says again "That's my Scott!"
I shake my head and smile at myself, not completely sure of why.
It is funny because for years, Scott is the only thing that has been tearing us apart, but right now he brought us together. Like, I looked at her and she actually looked back, and smiled. We had some kind of moment.
Practice is over and we go back to the locker room to get changed.
"Hey, would you drive me to the woods? I lost my inhaler."
"Yeah, okay, let's see if we can find the body as well," I whisper and wink an eye.
"Lee!" I hear Coach screaming again, "this is for players only!"
"Don't worry Coach, I don't want to see your little players naked," Emma makes her way towards us. "Um, Stiles?"
Scott raises an eyebrow when he notices she's talking to me.
Oh. She is talking to me.
"Um, Emma?" I mock her, earning a confused look from her.
"Can you take me home? My only ride ditched and you live like two blocks away so..."
"I-no, sorry. I can't. I promised Scott I'd take him somewhere."
"Oh"
I see disappointment on her eyes.
"Can I go with you? I mean..."
"No, it's dangerous," Scott interrupts her, "but you can take my bike?"
"Great idea," she awkwardly smiles, "okay, thanks, bye." She gets out of the place before Coach yells at her again.
"Hey, Stiles?" Scott asks before we leave. "You got over her...right?"
"What? Of course I did! Like five minutes after you told me to! Do I have to remind you we hate each other?" I say faster than I had anticipated.
"Yeah, because asking for a ride seems pretty hateful to me."
He rolls his eyes.
"Are you using sarcasm against me? Are you kidding me?" I scoff.
He can't be serious right now.
"Last time I checked she is your friend, not mine. So I'd appreciate it if we can just stop talking about her."
I don't like her. I don't.