CHAPTER NINE
BEAUTIFUL EYES
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Apparently, the keys that Stiles and I got from Boyd did not start the Hogwarts Express.
After Allison broke the news on that giant let down, I was informed that it was keys to the ice rink. Now that I knew that, it kind of made sense. Boyd worked at the local skate rink and frankly, that was the only thing anybody knew about him. He was more of a recluse than Isaac was and that was saying a lot.
Anyways, Allison told me that our boyfriends had decided to take the stress off all of us for one night. And we were doing that by ice skating. I wasn't necessarily sure that was a good idea, considering I had been ice skating once when I was seven and it was a horrendous occurrence that shall never be spoken of as long I walk this earth. But that didn't really matter, considering Allison and I had bigger fish to fry.
Namely, Lydia.
Unfortunately, when two members of a girl trio go to one house, the third member is apparently welcome even when uninvited. When Lydia's familiar little car pulled in behind Allison's, we let out simultaneous groans. It wasn't that we were angry that she followed us back to Allison's. No, Lydia was out friend and friends hang out. It was just that the two of us were meant to be gearing up for a double date that Lydia wasn't invited to.
We would have gladly made it a triple date if Jackson hadn't been a ginormous jerk and dropped her faster than a used Kleenex. Or, you know, if anyone actually liked Jackson. But considering those two things were moot, we were technically at an impasse.
Allison and I were perched on the end of her bed, occasionally glancing at Lydia who was listening to her headphones and snapping cheesy selfies.
"What the hell do we do?" Allison muttered. "If we tell her to go home, she'll..." she trailed off for lack of an appropriate word.
"Go all Lydia on us?" I grinned.
She rolled her eyes at me but nodded anyways. "Yeah, that."
I shrugged. "We could always just take her."
"Do you remember the part where this is a date? As is a double date between me, Scott, you and your twitchy boyfriend?" Allison pointed out.
"He's not that twitchy!" I defended. Her brown eyes widened and she raised one perfectly arched eyebrow. "Okay, so maybe he's a little twitchy. But either way, Lydia's going to get upset if we ditch her. And besides, after the whole Peter thing, I think she could use some time out with friends."
"I know, I know," she muttered. "But I just wanted some alone time with Scott."
"Okay, A, I know all about your little nighttime rendezvous' with Mr. McCall so don't try to make it look like you're never alone. And B, Stiles and I are going to be there so it's not really alone time."
She sighed. "I just feel bad. We're all going to be cute and couple-y or in your guys' case, cute, couple-y and awkward. She doesn't have anyone since Jackson broke it off."
"I'm going to ignore the awkward comment because we don't have time for them," I began, sending her a pointed look. "And I know. It's not going to be great having her there because we're all going to be skating and laughing and all that and she'll be off to the side. But I'd rather chance her having fun out with us than holing up in her room with a season of Gossip Girl, wondering why her only two friends ditched her. After everything that happened she needs a little normality. And who are we, as her friends, to deny her of that. If I didn't think that, I wouldn't be bringing her along on a group date, much less Stiles' and mines first."
"Wait, wait, and wait, first? You two haven't gone out at all yet?" Allison said, both eyebrows going up this time.
I shrugged. "It's not that big of deal. We hang out all the time so it's not like we never get to see each other. And I guess you could technically count the formal as our first date, but then again we kind of pulling off the whole death to werewolf thing. And I was unconscious for a short period of time so I guess that kind of put a damper on the mood as well," I rambled. I would have kept going but Allison threw a pillow at me.
"Breathe woman. I think you managed to get that entire monologue out on one breath. You might be turning into Stiles there."
I stuck my tongue out at her before glancing over at Lydia. "Come on Katniss Everdeen. Time to get this show on the road."
But before we could even remove Lydia from her selfie time, a knock sounded on Allison's door. Lydia didn't even budge, not aware of anything that was going on in the room. I looked over at the door, seeing Mr. Argent leant up against the door jamb. Well, at least it wasn't his wife. I dealt with werewolves all day and night, but that woman scared the shit out of me.
Allison sighed lightly and went over to her father as he motioned a finger in our direction. I was perfectly content on just chilling on her mattress while father-daughter time commenced. But I somehow got dragged into it as Mr. Argent wagged his finger again, meaning me. I furrowed my brow in confusion but got up nonetheless. Allison was as confused as I was when her dad took us by the shoulders and moved us slightly out of the room.
"Going out girls?" he asked both of us.
"Just studying," Allison replied.
Chris just gave her a look.
"I'm not trying to interrupt here," I interjected. "But depending on how this conversation is going to go, you technically can't keep all of us here."
"I'm well aware of that Carson," he stated. "I just wanted to know how your friend was doing."
"Then why do I need to be here?" I asked and Allison nodded along with that.
"I figured she'd tell you what went on anyways," Chris sighed, shooting his daughter a look. "So how is Lydia?"
"What?" Allison questioned. "You want us to stop hanging out with her or something?"
"Yeah, once again Mr. Argent, you can't necessarily do that either. Besides, one of my best friends is a werewolf so I mean what more danger could Lydia Martin cause me."
"No, that's not it. I'm just trying to...keep an eye on her. Maybe you could help," Chris stated, looking more at Allison. "Make sure nothing...happens to her. Nothing supernatural," Argent ended. The last statement was directed at me. Apparently, you can't have a werewolf best friend without your friend's hunter fathers down your throat about it.
Allison and I jerked our thumbs back in Lydia's direction. She was still on Allison's chair, snapping selfies and making duck faces.
"Seems pretty normal to me," his daughter smirked.
"And with that being said, Mr. Argent, we bid you good day," I smiled, grabbing Allison by the hand. "Come on Lydia!"
The strawberry blonde looked up from her phone and grimaced. "I'm not done yet."
I looked back at Mr. Argent. "See? Nothing's changed."
At least, nothing we'd figure out now.
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"You know, I think it's great and everything that you and Scott decided we all needed a break," I mused as Stiles and I laced on our skates. "But did it have to be at the ice rink?"
He glanced over at me with a small grin. "What's wrong with the ice rink?"
"Well, for one, I can't skate to save my life. Remember that time when we were seven?" I questioned.
He cocked his head at me for a moment before busting out in laughter. "How could I forget?" he asked between bouts of giggles. I swatted him on the arm.
"It's not that funny," I grumbled. "Anyways, it's also freaking zero degrees in here. I think my ass is frozen to the seat."
Stiles looked over at me, seeing my shaking hands tying the laces on the skates. I could swear my fingers were going numb, despite the thick gloves I had on my hands. You'd think they'd work and keep my hands from developing frostbite but no. Currently, I'm pretty sure every single inch of my body was freezing.
Stiles turned in his seat and jammed his hands in the pocket of his backpack. Seconds later he produced a bundle of bright orange cloth. He thrust it into my hands and I realized it was a shirt. I raised an eyebrow. What the hell was I going to do with this?
"You could wear it," he said, acting like it was obvious. "The extra layer would probably help a bit."
My eyebrow remained in its quizzical position. "Babe, this is orange. First off, orange looks good on no one. Second, I'm wearing blue. Blue and orange, possibly one of the most hideous color combos in history," I stated, gesturing to my—well Allison's, considering I borrowed it because my three quarter inch sleeved shirt wouldn't cut it in an ice rink—sweater which lay under my leather jacket.
His face fell. "But it's the color of the Mets."
I rolled my eyes and tightened my skates on last time. "And I hate baseball. Now come on and teach me how to skate mister."
"If I must," Stiles joked, a smile working its way onto his face. "It's actually not as hard as you and Scott make it out to be."
I narrowed my eyes at him and opened my mouth to respond, but was cut off by a loud thump. Stiles and I turned our heads to where the other lovely couple was. Allison was crouched over Scott who had clearly wiped out on the ice. The depressing part? He was only inches from the entrance. If Mr. Agile Werewolf could fall over within five seconds of his skates being on ice, I was terrified to know how I would do.
Stiles cringed as Scott attempted to get up, only to slip right back down. "Okay, so maybe Scott's not as coordinated as we thought," he mumbled before turning back to me. "Just don't...do whatever he did."
"I'm gonna fall aren't I?" I groaned as Stiles reached for my hand. He began tugging me to the rink and I was failing at attempting to pull back.
He shook his head, his hazel eyes solemn. "I won't let you fall, okay?"
I bit my lip slightly, looking back at him and then the rink. How bad could it be? Sighing, I tightened my grip on his hand and nodded. He smiled and led me the rest of the way to the rink. Giving me a reassuring smile he stepped onto the ice managing to maintain his balance. He turned back to me, backwards skating away from the door a little.
"Okay, this is the easiest part. You just have to step onto the ice and you're already halfway there. I believe in you," he smiled.
I rolled my eyes. "Okay, babe. Acting like a motivational parent? Not attractive at all," I snorted.
He nodded, "Noted. Now come on!"
I stared at the frosty white ice that stood hard and still below the feet of my boyfriend and friends. Scott was off towards the back, trying to skate (or at least I think that was trying), Allison was gliding along beside him, cringing every time he hit the ice or wall. Lydia of course, being the perfectionist she is, was drifting across the ice almost as if she was floating on it. She added a few twirls and a small jump and I was convinced that she had to be the one person on the planet who could do everything. I was never that lucky and would most likely fall but oh well.
I took one step forward, planting one skate covered foot on the ice. So far so good, I guess. Getting the other one on was easier than I thought and I was able to let go of the bar I hadn't even known I was clutching. Stiles grinned like the Mad Hatter.
"Good, no just push your foot forward like you want to glide across the floor," he instructed.
Seemed easy enough, I thought to myself. Clearly though, as I moved, something had gotten lost in translation. As I pushed my left foot forward, my right foot decided it wanted to move as well. A millisecond later, my feet were no longer planted on the ground. I could feel myself falling and squeezed my eyes shut, preparing for the solid impact I knew I'd make. But instead of my face meeting the freezing burn of the polished ice, it connected with a soft warm material. Two arms wrapped around my waist as I pushed my hands flat against their chest. I looked up to see it was Stiles who had caught me, a slightly concerned look on his face.
"You okay?" he asked.
I found myself not really paying attention to what he was saying and more just staring into his eyes. It was a really weird thing to say, but they were like pools of honey that I could literally stare into. They weren't brown enough to call them brown because they were so much more. Flecks of gold and blue swam in them, and they were mesmerizing enough for me not to talk. I felt like one of those girls from a cheesy romance novel but I'd be lying if I said his eyes weren't apart of his whole nerdy-adorable-gorgeous self.
"Has anyone ever told you that your eyes are like really pretty?" I blurted out, watching as his face went from concerned to confused and slightly embarrassed in seconds. His cheeks were tinted a light pink at the compliment. His grip on me loosened a bit, but he still managed to keep me upright.
"Um..." was the only response he could muster.
I laughed a bit at how shy he acted like sometimes. Stiles was more bashful when it came to things like kissing and compliments and just about everything in between. Once again, how I never noticed all this, all those tell-tale signs, I had no idea. But now I knew and now I could just stay here, looking at his adorableness and all was well.
"You can let me up now," I stated after a few more moments, my arm starting to lose blood flow due to his iron grip.
He reacted almost instantly, pushing me into a standing position and slid a few inches back like I was on fire. I rolled my eyes at him and pulled his cold hand into my gloved one. Gently, I made my way back to him, leaving only an inch of space between us.
I grinned up at him and pressed a kiss to the corner of his mouth. "I said you could stand me up right, not run away."
"Technically, I skated," he quipped with a burst of confidence.
I mock glared. "Save the technicalities for later, buddy. Now help me skate."
He complied and we took off at a pace rivaling a snails. But it was probably for the best, considering I almost wiped out at just planting my feet on the ice. So we just went along the border of the rink. Or more like Stiles was skating and just tugging me along beside him. I wasn't even able to move my feet without feeling like the ground was falling away from me.
Scott, on the other hand, proved his whole 'I-Can-Do-Anything-As-a-Werewolf' argument. His body collided with the ice below him and the rink so many times, he'd probably have cracked if he was still human. So Allison had resorted to pulling him out of the rink and they opted for taking pictures in the photo booth. Lydia was still off on her own, doing expert twirls and occasionally just sliding up and down the rink. She didn't seem to be having the time of her life, but at least she was surrounded by friends than the nightmares I feared plagued her.
Stiles and I were off in our own little world. I was no longer terrified of falling. I didn't have to be as long as his arms were around me. He made me strong, as weird and lame as it sounded. It was like the whole werewolf anchor thing. He kept me sane and when I was with him, I felt like I could conquer the world. Even the threat of Derek's alpha status and the newbie werewolves and whatever the hell broke into my house seemed minuscule in this moment.
Stiles smiled widely at me and my grin seemed to enlarge by tenfold. "I love you," he mumbled blissfully.
My response was cut off, which seemed to be a new trend in the world. A feminine scream echoed throughout the skate rink. I looked away from my boyfriend to see Lydia wailing in a crouched position in the middle of the rink. She was clawing and slapping away at the ice as if something under it was taunting her.
Against my better judgment, I started towards her, using Stiles as the force to push off from. I was gliding towards her, trying to keep my balance. I moved my feet slightly, trying to get to her. Eventually I was inches from her and I just dropped to my knees on the ice behind her. Pain shot up my legs but I ignored it, wrapping my arms around her. I was trying to pry her away from the ice. Screams were still coming out of her, reminiscent of the night in the hospital. I was doing everything I could to get her stop. I pulled and tugged and pulled some more but she just wouldn't budge. From the other end of the rink, Allison and Scott were getting on the ice to head over here. I could feel Stiles' presence behind me but I paid no attention to anything but the strawberry blonde.
"Lydia...Lydia! Lydia!" I screamed, my tone rivaling hers.
Her scream instantly ceased and I let out a sigh of relief. Her green eyes glistened with tears as she turned to me, lip quivering. Allison crouched beside the both of us, resting her hand on Lydia's shoulder.
"The ice," Lydia muttered quietly. "The ice..."
Allison and I shared a glance before looking down at the patch of ice she had been pummeling with her gloved hands. Despite for some ice shavings being pushed up from it, it was a perfectly fine patch of compacted frozen water. Just like the rest of the place.
Why had she yelled? And more importantly, what had she seen?
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I enjoy small moments of Starson fluff. And then I like ruining it with people screaming, ha