CHAPTER TWENTY
RAMBLING LIKE AN IDIOT
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Time seemed to stand still in this moment.
My lips were going to be swollen and sore, but that didn't matter. All I knew was that this was real. This was happening now and I wasn't going to wake up and be left with some horrible memory.
I was kissing Stiles. And he liked me back.
As our lips kept working together slowly and passionately, his words from no less than ten minutes ago rang through my head.
I like you, okay?
It was like a dream come true.
I've liked you since the second freaking grade!
That's what shocked me the most. All these years, and I never noticed once. Not once. Looking at it now, it all sort of made sense. The blushing, the compliments...everything pointed to the fact that he liked me. And I was too blind to see the signs, even when Allison was clearly pointing them out.
I've been waiting for the chance to kiss you since we were eight.
Since we were eight. Eight. We were sixteen now. That's a whole eight years gone by that he's been waiting for this. Half of his life has been spent wishing for something I had only wanted for a few weeks. How had I never noticed him? That he liked me? That I liked him? It was like I was seeing through a completely different lens, like before the world was a different place. A place where I didn't like Stiles and thought that all the blushing and compliments was just Stiles being...Stiles.
His grip tightened on my waist and he pulled back. He sucked in a breath of air and then exhaled. I was doing the same thing. I hadn't noticed that I was losing oxygen or had to keep breathing. This moment right here was making everything seem secondary. That nothing was more important than being with him.
"Hi," he said, glancing down nervously.
I wrapped my arms tighter around his neck, bringing my face up towards his. "Hi."
"Hey," he responded awkwardly. I laughed.
Brown eyes met hazel. His eyes were lit up with excitement and relief. And just overall joy. He got what he wanted. I'm just surprised it was me.
What did he find so special about me that he waited eight years. If any other guy had to wait that long, they'd have given up a long time ago.
I wasn't anything special, just Carson. What made him like me so damn much?
He opened his mouth, probably just another greeting. But he was cut off by a phone ringing. He threw back his head with an annoyed groan. He released his grip on me and fished his phone out of his pocket.
"Hello?" he asked, aggravated. I bit my lip to hide my smile.
"Stiles, where the hell are you?" I heard the other person ask. Mr. Stilinski.
"I'm at Carson's," he replied.
"Doing what?" his dad asked. I could barely hear him, straining my ears to hear bits and pieces.
Stiles faltered for a second. "I-I, uh, homework?"
I let out a laugh. Yeah, homework...
"Sure," his dad replied, not sounding very convinced. "Just get home. You can do your homework with her tomorrow."
"That doesn't really seem like a smart parent move," Stiles replied. "Aren't you supposed to want me to do homework?"
"Stiles just get home," his dad sighed before hanging up.
Stiles rolled his eyes and slipped his phone back in his pocket. He looked back at me.
"So, um, about what just happened—" he began.
I shook my head. "Go home, your dad sounded like he needed you back soon. We'll talk tomorrow okay?"
"But—"
"No buts," I told him with a smile. "Whatever you need to say can probably wait. Unless it's that zombies are about to come and eat my brains. If it's that, you should probably tell me now."
He laughed. "I'll pick you up tomorrow, okay?" he said, walking towards my door.
I nodded. He swung my bedroom door open and headed down the hall, me following. We headed downstairs in silence. Making it to the front door, he opened it and stepped out onto the porch.
"So, I'll be here at—"
For the third time, I cut him off. This time though, I did it with a kiss. I pressed my lips to his quickly, feeling the same effect that I did minutes ago. I pulled back, a grin plastered on my face. His mouth fell slack.
"Goodnight Stiles," I mumbled, before shutting the door.
I walked back up the stairs, one hand on my mouth gently. I bit my lip to keep my grin from growing any bigger.
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True to his word, Stiles showed up in front of house the next morning.
Straightening my outfit for the final time, I took a deep breath and exited my house. My hands were slightly shaking as I put the key in the door. I was clearly freaking out. I had my back turned to the driveway, just staring at the white wood of my door.
"You can do this, Carson," I coached myself in a whisper. I fiddled with my bag so it looked like I wasn't purposely stalling. "You can do this. Nothing bad is going to happen. You only made out with your best friend."
Okay, so maybe the last part wasn't great with calming nerves. Every feeling that I felt last night was back, flowing through my veins like electricity through a wire. And then one small phrase covered all nervous thoughts.
I like you, okay?
I bit my lip to hide the smile and whirled around. Taking another deep breath, I gathered up all my confidence and began strutting off to his jeep. And that wasn't easy to accomplish, seeing as I was walking over gravel in heels. The struggle of being short.
I threw open the door to the jeep and climbed in wordlessly. I tossed my bag into the backseat and shut the door. I grabbed the seatbelt and clicked it to the other part. I was going through my usual morning routine. I did these things every day. Why should today be any different?
Because you made out with him last night?
I internally groaned, before turning to the hazel eyed boy. "Morning."
"M-Morning," he stammered slightly, blinking rapidly. He bit his lip while turning back to the wheel. The lips that had been on mine just a short twelve or so hours ago.
The ride, like most of them had been recently, was silent. Stiles had tried numerous times to start a conversation but had cut himself off before he got more than a simple 'um' out.
I felt almost inclined to break the ice myself but was trying to respect his need for time. He clearly needed to sort out his thoughts before talking about everything, so why not give it to him? No need to pressure him into a conversation he wasn't ready to have. Or at least that was what the rational side of me was trying to convince me of.
The irrational side, which made up a giant portion of my being at this moment, was telling me to hit the nail right on the head. To dive in blindly and let the current toss me where it desired.
But I remembered all my swimming lessons. When diving, go feet first the first time. Test the waters; be safe and cautious about it.
But I knew that was probably a horrible idea, so I kept my mouth shut.
The second Stiles cut the engine after pulling into an empty space, he spoke. I had my seatbelt undone and my hand was on the door, ready to climb out before he cut me off with the first of what were probably to be many questions.
"Are we going to talk about last night?" he said quickly, hazel eyes boring into mine. Apprehension was clearly in his eyes.
I let go of the door, placing my hands in my lap. "What about last night do you want to talk about?"
"Just...everything," he said. "Everything."
I sat there, eyes locked with his. I waited patiently for him to continue. Realizing I wanted him to take lead of this conversation, he sighed.
"Look, last night was...amazing. You literally have no idea how long I've been waiting for that. And I know that I probably sounded stupid and you only kissed me because you felt bad for me and you're probably in love with some hot lacrosse god like Scott or Jackson. And I'm just your nerdy, sarcastic best friend and even that's too much for me to ask for. And like I said, you probably did it out of pity and we can totally forget it ever happened if you want. Well, I can pretend like I forgot about it but I probably never will, considering it's the only thing I've been able to think about. And now I'm rambling like the idiot I am but the thing is I really don't want to forget—"
The rational side of me told me to let him continue, but my irrational side won this round. And it told me to cut him off. By kissing him.
I leaned across the console, grabbing fistfuls of his plaid shirt. I crashed my lips to his feverishly. He reacted almost immediately, his hands reaching up to cup my cheeks in his large hands. I pulled him even closer to me, not caring that his car's gear shift was stabbing my stomach. The frustrating pressure was no match to the whirlwind of emotions I was receiving by kissing Stiles.
Everything we had experienced together last night was back but times ten. I felt his tongue press against my bottom lip and I opened eagerly, letting him do whatever he pleased. I just wanted to be here, kissing him. For the past few weeks, this was all I have wanted. I wasn't going to let him go.
He pulled back, gulping down air and I copied.
"What was that for?" he panted out, hands still holding my cheeks.
"You wouldn't stop talking," I murmured in a laugh. "And for the record, I didn't kiss you out of pity."
His eyes widened and he sat back a little, causing me to lose my grip on his shirt. "What?"
I bit my lip. "I kissed you, because I like you. A lot."
"Again, I question what?" he exclaimed, eyes becoming wider and rounder as the seconds went by.
"Is it so hard to believe that I actually like you?" I answered, giggling at his fish out of water expression.
"Well, it's just that your—"
"Carson freaking Bradley and I can have any guy I want," I responded, mimicking his tone from last night. "Well, news flash, I don't want any other guy. Just...you."
The biggest grin I've ever seen in my life illuminated his adorable face. But I only saw it for a minimal few seconds before he kissed me again. This one was sweeter and shorter than our preceding ones, which had been long and passionate. This was a kiss that girls waited all their life for. This was the kiss.
He pulled back, the grin still on his lips. And then the nervousness was back "Um, well...be my girlfriend?" he asked, scratching the back of his neck.
Every single nerve in my body was switched on, like I was a live wire. Everything in my mind was squealing and yelling and screaming in pure joy. It was all very annoying, but I knew that excitement had to be let out somehow.
As I opened my mouth to answer, I realized something: I guess I was wrong about him liking Lydia.
But that wasn't what was important right now.
I grinned. "I'd love to be your girlfriend."
All anxiety flowed out of his expression. This time for good. "So, you want to head in?"
"Not really, but we're going to have to anyways," I said, groaning lightly.
He laughed grabbing his bag from the back. He got out as I reached around for my bag. When my hands had gripped the leather moments later and I spun back around in my seat, I found Stiles holding my door open. I giggled and got out.
"So chivalry isn't dead?" I joked.
He rolled his eyes. "I take offense to that," he responded as we began walking towards the building.
We walked in a comfortable silence and every so often I'd see him glance at me out of the corner of my eye.
"What's with all the glances?" I asked.
He smiled. "You're beautiful," he replied easily, as if those words were always springing from his mouth.
I bit my lip and a blush rose to my cheeks. "What's with the compliments?"
"They've always been there," he assured me. "But now, I can voice them as I wish."
I laughed at the goofy grin on his face. When he smiled like that, it reminded me not only why I began liking him, but why I had chosen to be friends with him. Ever since we were little, Stiles had been a goofball. Ever since that moment on the playground when I introduced myself. I don't know what compelled my almost four year old self to go up to him. But honestly? I was very glad I did.
My thoughts were cut off by something warm curling around my hand, fingers entwining with mine. Stiles was holding my hand.
"Is this okay?" he asked.
I nodded. "Definitely," I said.
We were inside the school now, just strolling down the hallway. No one paid any mind to us, none of them really confused by our hand holding; it wasn't much of a tip off that we were dating. Stiles and I had held hands before.
I was just minding my business when I was yanked off to the side. And then that caused Stiles to be dragged to the edge of the hall with me.
"Jesus," I mumbled, rubbing my wrist from where Scott had yanked it. "What the hell, Scott?"
"I am so sorry for yesterday! It was the full moon! I had no idea what I was doing! I seriously didn't mean to kiss you! I just wanted to talk about Allison and then the full moon started affecting me and—"
I slapped a hand over his mouth, not caring to hear the rest. "Scott, dude, chill. It's fine. I know you wouldn't have done that normally. The full moon had you bent out of shape. I know you're in love with Allison."
The curly haired boy nodded eagerly, smiling brightly at the sound of her name. "But she hates me now," he muttered, lips curling into a pitiful frown.
I yanked my hand from Stiles' grasp and pulled my best friend into a hug. "Trust me, the last she thing she does is hate you. She really cares about you. She just needs...time, okay? Just give her some time and she'll come around."
He nodded as I let him go.
"Just do me a favor, don't kiss me again. Like ever. No offense to Allison, but I have no clue what she said was so amazing about it," I laughed teasingly.
His eyes narrowed and he shoved me playfully. "Shut up."
The bell rang above us, signaling that students should get to homeroom within a few minutes. Realizing I had to get to my locker still, I turned to my best friend and boyfriend—God, I could get used to thinking and saying that.
"I'll see you guys later?" I asked them.
Stiles nodded, as did Scott.
I ruffled Scott's hair lightheartedly, which caused him to groan. "Bye Scotty."
"Whatever," he responded, eyes grinning despite the frown on his lips.
"Bye Carson," Stiles told me.
I quickly pressed my lips to his in a fleeting last kiss for now. "Bye," I mumbled, cheeks turning pink.
I turned away from them making my way down the hall speedily. But my heart was beating faster than I was walking.
STILES' POV
Her lips pressed to mine swiftly and my eyes closed automatically. She pulled back, blushing. "Bye."
I watched my girlfriend speed walk down the hallway with a goofy grin attached to my face. She was my girlfriend now. I was able to call her that and it wasn't some kind of dream.
Ever since last night, I had felt like a weight had been lifted off my shoulders. I was finally able to tell Carson how I felt. Sure, I did it without initially realizing it. And then there had been that whole discussion. And then I kissed her.
But even though that massive weight was released from me, I had been more nervous than anything for this morning. And then she kissed me. And then she told me that she liked me. You know that moment when you've been waiting for something your entire life? Well, I've been waiting eight years for those words to leave her mouth. And actually be directed at me.
After she disappeared into the mass of other people, I turned back to Scott. To say the least, his facial expression was hilarious. He looked as happy as a child on Christmas and more confused than any person had right to be.
"Did she just...did you two just—Stiles what the hell just happened?" he exclaimed with wide eyes.
I smirked. "My girlfriend kissed me goodbye."
"Girlfriend...oh my God, you finally told her! What the hell happened after you lost me last night?" he asked, now more excited than I would assumed he'd have been.
"I talked to her, accidently told her I liked her, kissed her, went home and asked her out this morning after making out in my car," I said.
"Holy shit, I told you it would all work out!" he grinned. "So you finally told her you loved her?"
A few people glanced over at my loud friend. I cringed slightly. And this is why you don't tell Scott McCall anything.
"You didn't tell her?" he groaned.
I shook my head. "She managed to like me on her own without the whole ten step plan. Let's not run her off too quickly shall we?"
He rolled his eyes and began walking down the hall. "You're going to have to tell her eventually."
I sighed, following him. He was right. Sooner or later, I'd have to tell Carson that I lied to her when I said I've liked her since I was eight. Because it was a lie.
Because I've been in love with her since I was eight.
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CARSON POV
I was barely at my locker for more than a minute before someone appeared at my side. I turned my head, shutting the door a few inches to see who it was. Allison.
Allison and I weren't generally on speaking terms. Sure, I had found out all that stuff about how she felt about Scott right now. But that was only because I had been walking with Lydia when she began letting it all out.
I liked Allison, I really did. I didn't hate her and didn't have any right to. I just didn't really see eye to eye with her on certain things. Mainly Scott. She broke my best friend's heart and I'm not sure how okay with that I was. I wasn't mad at her either. But once again, I didn't have the same viewpoint as her.
I thought her breaking up with him was childish. Like I told Scott before he so rudely attacked my lips, I know that he went out there to protect her. And only her. He wouldn't do that for Jackson and Lydia. Sure, he wouldn't want them to die, but they hadn't necessarily done anything to make him want to risk his life for them. It was just Allison. Not even for Stiles and I, whom he had been best friends with his entire life. Stiles and I had befriended Scott when he was just the lonely little boy on the playground. And he had risked his life for a girl he barely knew. And I was perfectly okay with that. Why?
Because I knew that for Scott, Allison wasn't a crush or a fling. She was the real thing. He loved her. And her breaking up with him sincerely was cutting him to the core.
I smiled weakly at Allison. "Hey."
"Hi," she responded. She shifted her weight to the other foot, rubbing a hand up and down her arm awkwardly. "Look, do you hate me?"
I stared at her for a second before shaking my head. "I don't hate you. I'm just not okay with what you did to Scott. He's one of my best friends and it kills me to see him like this. But I've been trying to see this from you point of view. Take a walk in your shoes, if you will. And I guess I can kind of see why."
"So you're not mad at me?" she asked, breathing out a sigh of relief.
"No," I grinned. "And I'm sorry for calling you a pathetic bitch."
A smile took over her pretty features. "Friends?" she asked, holding out her arms for a hug.
"Friends." We quickly embraced, laughing like idiots. I was sure people were staring but at this point, who cares? Let them think we're nuts.
"So, now that this friendship has been reestablished," she began, a smirk overtaking her sincere smile. "What were you doing with Scott and Stiles this morning?"
I looked at her oddly. "Um, talking?"
She shook her head. "I meant why did I see you lip locking with Stilinski?"
A blush crept up my neck and my cheeks warmed as blood pooled beneath the surface. "I have no idea what you're talking about."
"Sure you don't," she laughed with a raised eyebrow. "I need details Bradley!"
"Oh, so we're on last name basis Argent?" I giggled.
It was amazing how almost instantaneously we were acting as we would have been pre-school incident. But I think that was the thing about Allison; you couldn't stay mad at her.
"Just tell me!" she yelled, shutting my locker and dragging me off into the direction of our homeroom.
"There's really nothing to tell," I replied as she gripped my wrist. She weaved us in and out of the teens trying to get to their homerooms before the second bell.
"Nothing to tell my ass," she scoffed as she pulled us through the door. She led us to two empty seats near the back and far away from prying ears. We tended to have a lot of eavesdroppers at this school. "Spill, now."
"We may have kissed last night and he may have asked me to be his girlfriend this morning," I smiled.
Allison let out a giant, girly squeal that I did not know she was capable of. "Oh my God! I knew it, I knew it, and I knew it! Didn't I tell you he would ask you? I told you he's in love with you!" she practically shouted.
"Miss Argent," the teacher began strictly. "Homeroom is neither the time nor the place for that kind of shouting. Do it later. Either that or I will see you in detention."
Allison cringed. "Sorry ma'am."
The teacher nodded and I burst into a fit of giggles at Allison's kicked puppy expression.
"Would you like to take Miss Argent's spot after school instead, Miss Bradley?"
"I'm good," I told her with a cheeky grin, tossing a quick thumbs up in the air. "Ma'am."
Allison smiled, fighting laughter. I grinned, shooting a crossed eyed look her way. That just made her fight giggles even more.
It was good to have her back.
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Once again, I'm ridden with feels from fictional characters.
Remember to keep voting and commenting guys. It really means an awful lot to me.