“I woke up; I was stuck in a dream.
You were there, you were tearing up everything.
We all know how to fake it, baby.
We all know what we’ve done.”
The confusion Lydia felt when she woke up was the most indescribable feeling in the world. She was in her own bed, in her own room with not the slightest idea of how she got there. Everything was a blur, she couldn’t remember passing out. Calvin was driving fast to frighten her, and she could remember him stopping just before the wall. It was only once she told him that she didn’t love Stiles, that she was with him.
She was still in her dress and most of her foundation was still on her face, though smeared in places, which told her that it was still the same night. One look out her window didn’t do anything, as it was pitch black except for a few dim street-lights. Had Calvin brought her home?
“Lydia?” Karen knocked gently on her daughter’s bedroom before opening it slowly. “I see you’re finally up.”
“What happened?” Lydia’s eyes flickered. There was no way she could know the truth about the last few hours, it was impossible. Calvin wouldn’t tell her mom what he did and no one had really been around to witness it.
“You fell asleep in Calvin’s car while he was driving you home,” Karen explained easily, taking a seat on the end of Lydia’s bed, brushing off some invisible dust. “He brought you upstairs,” she smiled softly. “He seems just like you told me he was. Very polite boy.”
Lydia nearly winces at the comment. “Right.”
Karen approaches her daughter now, sadness in her eyes as she places a hand on Lydia’s cheek, brushing over her bright hair. “You’re so grown up.”
Lydia’s heart swells, but she blinks away the tears that spring to her eyes.
As Karen moves to leave the room, she stops in the doorway, turning suddenly like she remembered something. “Oh, you might want to call Stiles and Scott back. They’ve been ringing your mobile for hours.”
“Did something happen?” Lydia can’t help but think of the worst possible scenario. Someone probably died, more than likely a friend.
“I didn’t answer, and I didn’t want to wake you,” Karen confesses sheepishly. “I took it downstairs so the sound wouldn’t wake you,” she pulls it from her pocket and hands it over.
“You could’ve just put it on vibrate you know,” Lydia couldn’t help but point out as she scrolls her finger through the list of missed calls. 6 from Scott, 16 from Stiles and 2 from Kira. The only person she can stand to talk to right now is Scott, so she presses her thumb over his picture.
As Karen closes the door behind her to offer Lydia some privacy, the familiar click of a call being connected draws Lydia’s attention away from the door.
“Lydia!?” Scott’s voice barks immediately.
“Scott, is everything okay!?” Her heart leaps.
“You tell me,” he growls angrily. “Malia and I heard you screaming and we couldn’t find you anywhere. You weren’t answering your phone and we didn’t have Calvin’s number…” he trails off as something more important comes up. “Are you okay?”
Lydia presses her hands over her face. She was relieved that no one was hurt, but horrified that she’d had everyone in a panic for hours. Scott’s concern was only drudging up the horrible reminder of the endless time she spent in Calvin’s car. “Yes, I’m fine,” she insists gruffly. It feels weird, Scott worrying. He hasn’t even acknowledged her well-being in so long, it was almost an unfamiliar state of mind. Being worried about. “I’m okay.”
“Tell her I’m gonna kill her,” she could hear Stiles say somewhere in the background. The sharpness of his voice was a dead giveaway of how angry he was with her for leaving them without a trace.
“Easy,” Scott tells Stiles, holding the phone away from them like it made a difference. “Lydia? We’re coming over.”
“No!” She can’t handle any more stress. She just wants to curl up in her bed and fade into nothing. “That’s not necessary. I swear, Scott. I’m okay.”
There’s shuffling as Stiles snatches the phone away from Scott, leaving no room for argument. “Then why wouldn’t you answer your phone for four hours? Why did you leave the party? You didn’t even tell any of us.”
“Why is it my responsibility to tell you when I’m leaving a party?” Lydia shot back with just as much attitude. “Calvin was my date, remember?” She reminds him with a strong surge of bitterness at the fact that it wasn’t Stiles she went with, and even more at the very sound of Calvin’s name after the emotional trauma he just put her through.
It’s silent for a pause, like Stiles doesn’t know what to say. “You didn’t answer any of our calls! And why the hell did you scream in the first place!?” They were the only points she refused to acknowledge thus far; because they were good questions, and she didn’t have excuses for them yet. She should’ve thought about this, she should’ve realized it was a banshee scream she let loose.
“I just… sensed the death of someone that was standing near me… Some old guy. He had a heart attack,” Lydia babbles away. “It was nothing else.”
“So now you get banshee screams over random strangers? That’s great,” she can hear Stiles’ exasperated sarcasm. “That still doesn’t tell us why you didn’t answer your damn phone, Lydia! Do you know how hard it is to panic and search and take care of an extremely wasted werecoyote at the same time?”
Lydia lifted her eyebrows at Stiles’ rant.
“Malia tried to eat a rabbit!”
“Gross!” Scott shudders in the background. “You definitely didn’t tell me that.”
“Malia got drunk and ate a rabbit?” Lydia squeaked.
“Tried, people,” Stiles annunciates. “Tried; as in didn’t.” Stiles huffs and rubs his hand over the back of his neck, the exhaustion getting to him.
“I fell asleep in Calvin’s car and I just woke up… I’m sorry you guys were worried.”
“You’re with Calvin right now?” Stiles’ eyebrows knit together and he checks the time. They’re still together and it’s nearly 3 AM. He really hoped that wasn’t the case.
“No he brought me up to my room apparently.”
“Apparently?” Stiles’ ears perk up. “As in, you don’t know? Creepy Easley brought an unconscious you to your room where he could take advantage of you?”
Lydia appreciated his attempt at concern, but she didn’t need it. He didn’t have to act like he cared when she knew he didn’t. “You’re overreacting.”
“He didn’t change your clothes, did he?”
“No! Stiles, stop jumping to conclusions,” The redhead warns.
“Just covering all the bases,” Stiles reassures, trying to soothe the tiger back to sleep before it chomps its jaws on him. “Can you really be mad at me for wanting you to be safe?” He asks softly.
She freezes, for just a moment believing that he could really mean it. Then she makes a decision. “Stiles, the truth is –”
“Shit!” The boy in question cusses. “Malia is vomiting again,” he passes the phone to Scott without another word, rushing over to his girlfriend who is about to fall out of the jeep. He catches her in time, supporting her against the car as she leans over the side to spit up alcohol onto the grass.
“Nasty,” Scott mumbles. “Stiles is probably gonna have to stick with Malia for a while, but I can come over?”
Lydia feels like she’s been stabbed with a knife, but she marches on. “I told you I’m fine. I’ll talk to you at school tomorrow.” She’s more monotone now, unable to keep up with her usual level of fake enthusiasm. The gravity weighing down her shoulders was far too much tonight.
“Tomorrow’s Saturday…” Scott takes mental note of the fact that its 3 am. “Well, today.”
“Then I’ll see you on Monday!” Lydia snaps, growing weary of this game of ping-pong. She wants to stop thinking and go back to being unconscious.
“Okay…” Scott answers meekly, not having expected her to give him an attitude out of thin air.
Lydia is quick to end the conversation after that, hurriedly saying goodbye and waiting until she heard his very uncertain “Bye?” before pressing ‘end call’ and collapsing backwards onto her bed. She really hoped Calvin didn’t contact her tomorrow. Well, today. Unfortunately, she wasn’t quite that lucky.
x-x-x
It was after noon when Kira invited her to lunch, just the two of them. Lydia immediately went to say no, but felt inclined to agree to the meeting. Kira had been the nicest to her among all their friends. She was new and didn’t know Lydia very well, there was no doubt about it, but she was genuine and real and there was a real chance at friendship there. But she still wasn’t Allison.
As Lydia grabbed a pair of heels from under her bed, her hands brushed against that same cardboard box that Chris Argent had given her. Allison’s last message. A chill went through her body as she considered what could be in that box, but logically, she knew it was probably just a few pictures and trinkets. Nevertheless, they’d still make her cry senseless. It was the biggest reason it remained untouched, other than it being the last thing she could hold onto that was Allison. When she opened it… when she knew what was inside… There would be nothing of Allison left to be explored. No future, no words she’d every say again.
She let the anguish consume her as she did her hair and makeup and even as she entered the diner. Briefly muttering to the hostess that she was meeting up with a friend, she located Kira in the far corner immersed in her new game boy, a present from Scott. It was old and cheap, but she adored it. He told her she was going to love it and she hadn’t believed him, but now she knew how right he was.
“Playing Mario again, I see,” she teases as she slides in across from her.
Kira’s dark curled hair frames her face and falls gently in front of her shoulders as she jerks at the unexpected noise. Upon seeing Lydia, she shoves the device into her pocket like it means nothing. “Lydia!” She’s surprised to see her. If she were being honest, she’d admit that she didn’t think the girl would show up. Though Lydia was generally very punctual, she’d admittedly been off lately. “You look awesome.”
Lydia certainly didn’t think so. She was barely able to look at her own reflection when she did her makeup this morning. She was too humiliated, and the circles under her eyes were only telling of the restless night she had. “I just threw this together.”
“I wish I could ‘throw myself together’ and look half that good,” she compliments, her eyes bright as she leans in to sip her milkshake.
Usually, Lydia reveled in compliments. Being fashionable and beautiful was important to her, and she was always worried about her image. But this time, for some reason, one sweet compliment from a nice girl didn’t feel right. In fact, Lydia felt ashamed and embarrassed, like Kira was lying.
Lydia’s smile becomes something very serious, her eyes intense as they stare into Kira’s. “Do you really think I’m pretty?”
Kira’s eyes shoot up, disbelieving at the insecurity held in Lydia’s gaze. Lydia was supposed to know she was gorgeous, she was supposed to flaunt it and enjoy her perfect sense of glamour and stylizing. But she was doubting herself, and the Kitsune could see it. “Of course you are.”
Realizing how strange she appeared, Lydia cleared her throat and clumsily grabbed for a menu to keep herself busy.
“Lydia,” Kira started, firmly placing a hand over Lydia’s menu to flatten it on the table so she could see the other girl’s face. “Are you okay?”
Lydia is so very thankful when Mary, the friendly 50-something waitress approached, pulling a pen from behind her ear and tossing the cover of her notepad over. “What’ll you have, hun?” She asks the banshee, offering a friendly smile.
She can’t bear to eat real food, not when her stomach’s been killing her since finding Calvin in the men’s restroom. The night progressively got worse, finding Malia and Stiles, having a panic attack in Calvin’s nearly-crashed car, passing out. Her friends worrying. “I’ll just have some water.”
“No strawberry smoothie today?” It was surprising that Kira even knew what her usual was.
“I don’t –” She was interrupted as Kira gasped audibly, clucking her tongue with a shy smile.
“Look who it is,” She gestures off somewhere behind Lydia.
The redhead spins around in the booth, peeking her eyes over the top of the seat to see who just entered the diner. It was Calvin, now appearing both better rested and calm, the tired redness from last night no longer rimming his eyelids and drawing his lips downwards, replaced by clear white skin with pink patches along his cheeks. Lydia sinks down in her seat.
“You’re not gonna say hi?”
Lydia blows a breath of air as she grows agitated. She doesn’t want Calvin to see her, but avoiding him was going to raise a lot of questions. As the waitress places her water on the table, she thinks fast. “We’re having girl time. This isn’t about boys.” The lie comes naturally enough.
“Oh,” Kira makes a sour face stemmed from guilt. “I didn’t realize we weren’t allowed to bring people.” She shrugs her shoulders uncomfortably. “Scott’s here,” she declares just as he happens to coincidentally be walking through the glass doors of the main room, then through those doors, leading them to the diner. Kira’s voice drops. “And from the looks of it, he brought Stiles.”
Lydia huffs as she realizes this day can’t possibly get worse. She should’ve gone with her original instinct upon waking up and buried her head back under the pillow.
As Scott locates Kira, he approaches briskly, slowing down a few paces when he notices the girl with her. “I thought you were with Malia.”
Kira blinks at her boyfriend. “I never said I was with Malia.”
“You said you were going out with your ‘favorite girl’ and I just assumed…” his voice fades away as he realizes that Lydia could take offense to that. He glances over at her, relief flooding his body at her plain expression. If she was insulted, she was good at hiding it.
And she was. But she wasn’t about to say anything about it.
“Not because Malia is Kira’s favorite!” Scott clarifies, fully aware of the fact that he sounds like he’s bullshitting his way out of getting in trouble. “It’s just that usually when Kira goes to the diner she’s with Malia, and Stiles and I show up to do the double date thing.”
Lydia lowers her head at them in disbelief. She had no idea that they met up at the diner regularly, just the four of them. In fact, no one had ever even mentioned this to her before. She could see that it was meant to be a secret when all of her friends’ faces fell at Scott’s accidental reveal. Lydia’s jaw tightens at the revelation.
“Wow, you guys.” It’s the only thing she can think to say.
Stiles runs a hand through his hair nervously. “We just didn’t want you to feel left out.”
“I didn’t even know you and Malia were dating.”
“We’re not,” Stiles says quickly. “Well, maybe.” He isn’t too sure himself.
“Right,” Lydia mocks. “So you’re just friends, then,” she challenges him. “Just four friends hanging out at the diner, purposely not inviting me.”
Stiles desperately looks to Scott for help, “I think I’m saying this wrong.”
“No you’re saying it perfect, thanks,” Lydia spat, eyes frozen on the table. She wasn’t even going to look at him. Feeling Kira’s concerned eyes on her, she fights the urge to meet her gaze.
The awkward silence that followed only lasted long enough for Calvin to finally approach them. As far as Lydia could tell, he was oblivious to the scene he was walking into, or at least playing it that way. She couldn’t be too sure now.
“I knew I saw you walk in, Scott,” he greets, nodding at the group. “Mind if I join you guys? I’ve got a hankering for something nice and juicy.” Discreetly, he winks at Lydia from where he stands. The banshee sinks further into her seat, her butt making the polyester squeak.
“Uh, no… not at all.” Scott isn’t too comfortable with the intrusion, especially when they haven’t gotten a chance to explain to Lydia the real reason she wasn’t invited to their weekly meal at the diner.
“Why is everyone standing?” Calvin chortles as he scoots in beside Lydia without leaving her much room to argue. As he presses his body against her to indicate her movement, she gives in and slides over until she’s trapped in the corner.
Stiles sits across from Lydia to allow Kira and Scott to face each other. Kira sits on Calvin’s other side, knowing full well that Scott would be falling onto the floor from the lack of space if he were to be there instead. He shoots her a thankful grin and hands her his menu when he sees she’s missing one. In turn, Kira blushes.
Calvin’s eyes dart between the two, an amused smile across his mouth. “You two are too much.”
“See?” Stiles waves his hand at Scott and Kira in an exaggerated fashion. “Calvin barely knows you and he’s sick of it. Do the rest of us a favor,” he says it jokingly, but secretly means it. Kira and Scott were very into the PDA and it was almost sickening how sweet they were with each other.
Scott knows Stiles means it, but he also knows the reason he feels that way is because he simply doesn’t understand what it’s like to be with someone who you love, someone who loves you back. Malia was his first real relationship, and it was the perfect first relationship to have. He was learning a lot about women and he really cared for the werecoyote, but it was just a high school relationship. It didn’t mean anything real, not like Scott and Kira.
“Hey, don’t pin this all on us!” Kira points a finger at Stiles. “How about that smooch Lydia landed on Calvin in the middle of the lunch room the other day?”
Lydia flushes, becoming anxious as everyone’s eyes are suddenly on her. She wanted to be noticed, but not like this. “No, that wasn’t… isn’t like you guys at all!” She’s extremely flustered and all of them can tell. “We’re not -” Calvin’s fingernails dig into her upper thigh as a warning and she lets out a small squeak from the painful sensation.
Stiles lowers his head at her questioningly. “Lydia?”
Her eyes flicker closed for a brief second, but she pushes back any emotion. “I was going to say that we aren’t gross about it,” she finished quietly. Lydia feels Calvin’s grip loosen, but his hand remains on her leg, the feeling burning through the thin fabric of her skirt while the finger pad of his thumb runs over the exposed skin at the hem.
Kira doesn’t miss her use of the present tense, but decides not to push it in front of everyone else. She’ll text her about it later. “Are you gonna order anything?” She turns to Scott.
“Lydia,” Stiles whispers, quickly catching her attention. She glances up at him, still uncomfortably distracted by Calvin’s exploring hand. “Are you okay?” She just blinks at him with wide eyes, unable to form coherent thoughts at the moment. “You look like you’re in pain.”
“Everything okay?” Calvin chimes in, playing clueless as he leans his chin into his free hand.
Stiles shoots Calvin a glare for intruding. It was unnecessary for him to reiterate the exact thing he just asked.
Lydia’s heart clenches painfully when she meets Calvin’s expectant eyes. “Yeah, I just didn’t get much sleep last night.”
Stiles’ arms flex as he leans his elbows onto the table, the sudden movement making Lydia’s cup of water shake gently. “I thought you fell asleep in Calvin’s car. You were passed out for hours; that’s why you didn’t answer your phone.” His eyes narrow at her. “Remember?”
Calvin’s eyes burn into the side of her head, waiting for her next excuse.
“I-I meant because I woke up at 3 AM and spent the next ten minutes on the phone with you panicking losers!” It was a good save, but Lydia felt her body burning up as she broke into a nervous sweat.
“We wouldn’t have been panicking if you hadn’t screamed,” Stiles says under his breath, knowing full well that the banshee still heard him.
Lydia gasps when Calvin’s fingers slide under her skirt brush against the edge of her panties, and she purposefully stands, bumping her legs against the table. “I need to go the bathroom,” she breathes, shoving past Calvin and nearly knocking Kira over in her haste to get out of there.
“What was that about?” Scott watches Lydia speed walk out of their view.
“Maybe she still has her period,” Kira suggests lowly, eyes lighting up as she decides what she wants for lunch.
“Why do we keep asking questions?” Stiles sighs, faking a shiver for dramatic effect.
They spend the next few minutes ordering their food, and when the waitress leaves it’s relatively quiet again. It feels a little awkward having Calvin be there without Lydia. None of them knew him very well.
Scott drums his finger along the edge of the table as he considers something. “I was gonna wait for Lydia to get back, but I might as well bring it up now.” He grins at Stiles. “Y0u know how the islander trip is next weekend?”
“What’s that?” Calvin interrupts.
“Oh, uh…” Scott was hoping Lydia’s friend wouldn’t intervene, because it was probably going to result in him inviting himself. Or Lydia inviting him. Either way, he wanted this trip to be about their pack. “Every year the environmental club gets the nature society to host a trip for our school. It’s an outdoors thing, camping and the wilderness and all that. It’s supposed to be educational; we’re getting challenges and stuff like that.” He glances at Stiles as he explains to Calvin, “We’ve never done it before, but I made everyone sign up this time. Lydia was the hardest to convince.”
“While Malia can’t wait,” Stiles laughs.
“That sounds awesome.”
“Yeah,” Stiles frowns. He wasn’t going to come, right? It was way too late to sign a permission slip and pay the fee, anyway. It had to be.
“What were you saying, Scott?” Kira reminds, setting the discussion back on track.
Scott nods gratefully. “Kira and I did a little research and we found this grove near the campsite. There’s this huge lake there and I thought it would be fun if we snuck away from the class and did our own thing for a while.”
A grin forms across Stiles’ face. “You dirty boy, Scott! Please tell me there will be alcohol involved in this scenario.”
“Heaps of it,” Kira informs him enthusiastically. “Since I’ve already proven that I can handle my liquor, I challenge you, Scott McCall, to a drink-off at the lake next weekend.”
“You are so on,” Scott laughs, squeezing the girls hand from across the table.
Lydia returns a moment later, her makeup reapplied and her face refreshed. She motions to move in beside Kira so that she isn’t forced beside Calvin again, but unfortunately Kira doesn’t get the message.
“Oh, it’s okay! I’ll move.” Kira hops off the seat like she’s doing Lydia a favor, allowing her to sit beside her... Whatever he was.
“Thanks,” Lydia mumbles, scooting into the booth.
“Scott was just telling us about the islander trip,” Calvin annunciates, wrapping his arm around her and squeezing her shoulder. His eyes are intense where they focus on her face. “You didn’t tell me about that.”
“It must’ve slipped my mind,” Lydia averts his gaze. She really did forget about the trip, but even if she had remembered she certainly wouldn’t have invited him. “Do-do you wanna come?” She knew his answer even before the large smile broke out across his face.
“That’s a great idea!” He insists, pressing his lips to her cheek in a chaste kiss.
Stiles sucks his cheeks into his mouth and says nothing.
“It might be too late, though,” Lydia tells him gently. “We were supposed to have our slips submitted over two weeks ago, right?”
He frowns. “Well I wasn’t here two weeks ago. They’ll make an exception for my case, I’m sure.” Calvin runs a finger through a curl in her hair. “Don’t worry your pretty red head about it.”
“Wow, you guys really are as bad as Scott and Kira,” Stiles declares plainly.
Calvin shoots him a stare. “If your girlfriend doesn’t want to show you affection in public, maybe you’re the one with the problem.”
Lydia couldn’t count the amount of awkward moments she ran into today on one hand.
x-x-x
The weekend passes quickly enough. Lydia uses her time wisely, avoiding enough human contact to finish her homework for the rest of the month. Whenever she’d receive a call or text, she was abrupt about answering. When Scott called on Saturday to apologize for leaving her out of their weekend lunches, she brushed it off and hung up on him before he had a chance to finish the rest of his sentence.
The simple fact that Calvin hadn’t tried to get in touch with her had her on edge. He’d been speaking to her every day, but he was quiet for the whole weekend. It made her think that maybe he’d gotten sick of her, maybe he decided to leave her alone. As much as that thought comforted her, Lydia didn’t think it could be that easy. She missed the way he was when they first met, she wanted that friend back. Now she was alone again.
It was Sunday night, and she was lying on her stomach reading one of her favorite science magazines. Her mother was meeting her lawyer out for a drink because they did that sometimes, but Lydia didn’t believe it was just about catching up. They were probably talking about her father and what they were going to do. It was thoughtful of Karen to leave her daughter out of the issue, but Lydia’s stomach felt sick when she considered the stress her mother was under.
The distant chirping of crickets was nearly putting her to sleep when Lydia heard the faint sound of someone knocking on the front door. She sighs and shuts the book, shoving it under the bed beside that box and jogs down the stairs.
Lydia swings the door open without a second thought, pieces of red hair wrapping back at the sudden burst of wind. It is dark aside from the street-lights, and the lone fixture illuminating her porch. There’s no one there, and Lydia feels a chill travel up her arms. In her supernatural experience, nothing good was about to happen. Her phone was upstairs.
She slams the door shut, twisting the lock and running for the stairs to her bedroom like her life depended on it. All the while she told herself that it could be nothing, that a couple of kids were ding-dong ditching her without the actual ding-dong. Maybe someone was visiting her neighbors and approached the wrong house, realized they’re mistake and left. She shakes her head at herself, what were the chances of that? The most logical explanation was that it was Calvin, but she didn’t want to think he could be the kind of person to do that.
When she finally reaches for her phone, she realizes how paranoid she would appear. If she were to call Scott and tell him she was frightened because someone knocked on her door, she’d sound completely insane. It wasn’t like she could tell him about Calvin. Instead, she decided to hold it tightly in her hand in case something really did happen.
Which is why she jumped a foot in the air when her phone start ringing, scaring the complete hell out of the girl. Despite it being Stiles, she’s fast answering because she doesn’t want to be standing here alone anymore.
“Hey,” she says breathlessly. “What’s up?”
“I’m at your house,” There’s some kind of interference breaking his voice up, a shuffling static underneath the tone. The phone crackles as it breaks up again, “…-et me in.”
“What? Why?” Lydia’s eyes narrow. He must’ve been trying to scare her.
“Just let me in!” He hangs up, the phone disconnecting before she got her answers.
With a heavy grown, Lydia straightens her nightgown and returns to the front door. She’s struck by déjà vu when she opens the door to find it mysteriously clear of any human presence.
Lydia growls as she returns Stiles’ call.
“Y’ello?” He answers cheerily, the annoying sound of him chewing on something hard flitting through the receiver and into Lydia’s ear.
“Uhhhh, where the hell are you?” She snaps, frustration hitting her hard. If he was going to play games with her all night she was just going to lock herself in her room until morning and kick him in the balls at school.
Stiles stops mid-chew, his food-filled mouth coming muffled, “I’m home, why?”
Lydia stands in the open doorway of her home gritting her teeth together. She’s two seconds from slamming the door and cussing at him, “You said you were outside my house. I’m literally standing in my front doorway and you’re not here.”
“When did I say that?” He’s appalled at the suggestion, because he knows for a fact that he hasn’t spoken to Lydia since early on yesterday.
“You called me two seconds ago and told me to let you in,” Lydia stomps her foot. “Damn it Stiles, stop messing with me! I’m really not in the mood.”
Stiles swallows a large chunk of food down, wincing at the scratching pain it caused. “Lydia, I swear to god, I didn’t call you.”
Lydia’s eyes flicker around her room nervously. No, that wasn’t right. She knows he called her. It said it on her caller ID and she heard his voice. He was still playing with her. Why was everyone playing with her? “I…” She has to get away from this phone call, she feels like she can’t breathe.
Stiles stands straighter at his kitchen counter, knocking over his quart of lo mein when he places his chopsticks back in the bag to give the girl his full attention. “What’s going on?” Lydia isn’t making any sense, so he assumes she just woke up from a bad dream and is still a little disoriented. That or she had some kind of banshee prediction that she couldn’t decipher.
Lydia wants to answer, to tell him she has to go, but she can’t speak. Her breathing is rapid, her chest constricting against her lungs tightly. She’s hyperventilating because she thinks she’s losing her mind. She drops her phone to the carpet before falling to her knees, gasping for air.
“Lydia!? What’s going on?” Stiles’ panicked question comes through the speaker, but Lydia can’t physically respond.
She rasps heavily, as if that can serve as a response.
“I can hear you,” he tells her, biting down on the nail of his index finger. Lydia coughs for oxygen on the other end. He smacks his hand on the counter. “That’s it, I’m coming over.”
“No,” she croaks out. “No.”
“We’re not arguing about this.” He’s already snatching his keys from the hook. “I’ll be there in five minutes, stay on the line with me.” Stiles switches the phone to his left ear, leaning it against his shoulder with his cheek so he can drive.
“Don’t come over!” Lydia bellowed, finally able to climb back to her feet.
“You’re wasting precious breath, Lydia,” he criticized sarcastically. She wasn’t going to change his mind.
He hears her mumble, “go to hell,” before hanging up on him.
“Ly-Lydia?” He glances down at the screen of his phone to find the call had ended. “Fuck.” Tossing the offending object into the passenger seat, he presses his foot on the gas pedal.
The banshee waited in her room for a few more minutes. Despite protesting when Stiles suggested he come over, she was really glad he didn’t give in. She didn’t want to be alone right now. Even the silence from waiting was too much to bear. The heated insulation of her bedroom was making her too warm, and she wasn’t about to open the door, so she opened her window a few measly inches instead.
She was so sure the caller ID said Stiles, but what if she was wrong? What if she was imagining everything; slowly losing her mind? The days following Allison’s death, Lydia truly felt like she was going to crumble into herself. That feeling never truly faded but grew easier to bear, repressed into the back of her mind until every now and then when her bottled up emotions overflew and spilled into other aspects of her life, her friendships and her family.
A blood curdling scream resonated from the woods behind her house, spreading through the cracks of her window and sending a chill through Lydia’s entire body. It was when this person started crying “Lydia!” that she recognized the voice. It was Stiles. He’d gotten in trouble on the way to her house.
“Stiles,” Lydia mutters, making a run for the door. She stops abruptly as her hands close around the knob. What if she was hearing things again? Like their first phone call? Her heart nearly stopped when she considered the possibility that the second phone call had been unreal as well. Was he even coming?
Nevertheless, Lydia braved through it, pulling on her sneakers and bolting through her backdoor, too hurried to bother closing it behind her. It didn’t matter if this was all in her head because there was a very real chance that Stiles was actually in pain right now. It had only taken her a split second to weigh the odds and then her mind was made up. Stiles had to be okay. Fuck her stupid fucked up head and the voices whispering inside of it.
“Stiles!” She shouted as she reached the hollow of trees, scoping the area carefully before muddling through it and forcing herself inside the dark maze. “STILES!” She called again, anxiously spinning around rapidly, eyes dilated as they adjust to the shadowed black of night. “Please answer me,” she whispers, leaves crunching under her shoes as she runs further in the nest, shrouded by overhanging branches.
She’d nearly forgotten that she had her phone, sniffling in a frightened manner as she rang Stiles’ number. If he picked up and he was okay, she was hallucinating all of this. If he didn’t answer, this was real and he was in trouble. As sane as she’d like to be, she’d rather, in this moment, be a complete psychopath if it meant Stiles would be alive.
“I’m at your house,” he tells her immediately, but the phone crackles like the connection is bad. It makes sense, considering the fact that she’s in the middle of the woods right now. The trees were tall and intimidating, likely blocking most of the signal. “…-et me in,” the phone fizzes.
Lydia’s heart stalls in her chest, her eyes are huge and terrified, her hands shaky as they lower the phone without being consciously aware of it. It was happening again. He was saying the same thing as before. Was this even real?
“Lydia?” He prompts from the other end, not hearing her voice despite the fact that she called him.
She can’t take it anymore and a sob comes burbling to the surface, “Where are you?” Lydia cries in hysterics, a hand going up to chew on the edge of her palm nervously.
Stiles’ heart skips a beat. “I’m here, where are you?”
“I’m in the woods.”
His eyes stop on the woods behind her house, slamming his car door shut. “Why?”
“I heard…” she swallows hard, her mouth dry and warm. Lydia takes a few steps in the direction of her house, but then stops. She isn’t sure if she’s facing the right way. “Just come get me, please. I think I’m lost.”
“It’s okay,” Stiles breathes, although he can feel his chest burning. “Lydia, I’ll find y-…” Static cuts through the line and the call drops.
“Stiles!?” Lydia angrily presses her nails along the buttons on her phone to get the call back. “Come on, give me signal.” She feels something brush past her arm and whips around, a squeak of air leaving her lips. “Who’s there?” she demands, a tremor shaking her body as the wind grows colder. She’s ready to run, she won’t be sure which way she’s running but she’s ready to do it. If she hears another suspicious noise, if something invisible touches her… she’s going for it.
“LYDIA!” Stiles screams for her, much like what she’d heard when she heard him being attacked in the woods.
“I’m here!” She answers, uncertain if he is able to hear her. Her voice is hoarse like she’s been screaming for hours, quiet because of the emotion she’s feeling, a heavy weight like someone standing on your chest.
“LYDIA! Where are you!?” Stiles is still yelling. After the call disconnected a white mist of panic enveloped him whole and he couldn’t stop panting. He was close to calling Scott because if she didn’t answer him soon then he wouldn’t be able to take it anymore. Scott would know what to do, but it would take him some time to get to Lydia’s place, and time was exactly what Stiles didn’t want to waste.
With everything inside of Lydia, she inhales deeply and then lets out a banshee scream. Not loud enough for the whole town of werewolves to hear, but enough to vibrate through the woods and sway the tops of trees.
Stiles jumps and whirls around to the direction the cry came from. He vaults over an overturned tree trunk and sprints toward the girl, his eyes widening as he sees a flash of red hair moving toward him in the distance. “Lydia!”
When she sees him, she runs toward him on instinct. When his arms wrap around her in a tight hug, she lets it happen without protest. His body is large and protective like no other time they’d been close, especially considering her lack of heels. As he squeezes her against him, Lydia’s heart thumps frantically, but she doesn’t care if he can feel it beating unevenly against him. She’s just so glad he’s here.
They stand like that for the shortest 60 seconds of Stiles Stilinski’s life. When they finally do part, its only enough to give their bodies some breathing room, their arms still wound each other in a comforting embrace. “You’re freezing,” Stiles muses hoarsely, running his large hands over her shoulders to warm her up. “Let’s get inside.”
She doesn’t argue as one of his arms loosely remains around her arms as he guides her to the correct path back to her house. His cold breath brushes against the back of her neck, sending a haywire cord of frozen energy through her spine and dipping somewhere that made her feel like she was tingling inside. Lydia spent the rest of the walk back admiring his purposeful expression, unconsciously biting on his lower lip as he works his way through the throng of trees.
When they’re sitting in her room, Stiles finally asks, “What the hell happened tonight, Lyds?”
Lydia runs her fingers along her lips thoughtfully and then shrugs like it’s the simplest thing in the world. “I don’t know.”
“You said I called you and said I was at your house,” he retells as his thoughts go through the events. “Then you were lost in the woods.” He motions with his hands like he’s trying to figure out what to say. “Can you – just start from the beginning?”
Lydia ponders this, moving to lean against her bottom against the edge of her desk as her lips twist upwards. “Hmm. Okay.” she slaps her hands on the creamy skin of her thighs. “Someone knocked on my door but when I answered there was no one there. Then you,” she points at him. “ – call me and say you’re outside my house, and to let you in.”
“I definitely didn’t do that,” Stiles says with a shake of his head. “I was eating Chinese food when you called me, asking me where I was. That’s the first time I spoke to you today.”
“Well then I don’t know what to tell you Stiles!” She stands up now and begins to pace. “Maybe…” her eyes flicker over to where he sits on the corner of her bed, watching her in that concerned way he did. “Maybe I’m really losing it, here.”
Stiles almost smiles, “You think you’re crazy?” He asks in disbelief.
“It isn’t funny,” she clamors with a snarky edge.
“I don’t think it’s funny,” he gets off the bed and approaches her cautiously, “but it is ridiculous.”
“What do you mean by that?” she presses shyly.
“There’s no way you could be crazy. You’re way too smart,” he thinks it over. “You’re definitely strange, but in no way crazy.”
“You like that I’m weird?”
“Sure,” Stiles shrugs. “That’s part of what makes you, you.” To make the moment just a bit less intimate, he jokes, “Besides, if you were crazy I’d be the first to take you to Eichen House.”
Lydia rolls her eyes and comments, “No you wouldn’t.”
Stiles’ lips curl as he stares at her intensely. “No,” he agrees honestly. “I wouldn’t.”
The quiet, certain way he said it was making something stir deep within Lydia’s stomach, a hunger. She had an ache for something that couldn’t be filled.
“So why were you in the woods?” Stiles changed the subject slyly.
“I heard you scream my name,” disclosed the banshee, worry rimming her eyebrows. “You were in trouble so I ran after you.”
“Do you think it was a prediction…?” He asks slowly, rubbing his thumb over his wrist.
“God, I have no idea what it was.” Lydia turns her back on him, ashamed that her powers were of no real hope for them. Something Cora once said repeated in her mind, “All you really do is find the bodies.”
“I see,” Stiles murmured so slightly that she almost didn’t hear. “Are you going to tell Scott?”
Lydia’s head shoots up. “It was your voice.” the air is still. “Even if I don’t understand what happened tonight or why, I can’t take any risks,” her heart pumps rapidly as she dares to finish what she started. “Not with you.”
Stiles’ eyes dart to the floor like he can’t look at her anymore. “Yeah, that’s probably a good idea.” He pretends not to see the way her heart is on her sleeve right now, forcing himself not to hear the meaning behind her words.
“Lydia, I just wanted to let you now I’m ba-…” Karen Martin’s voice ends abruptly as she opens the door to her only daughter’s bedroom. Her eyes stop on Stiles and she forces a smile. “Stiles, I didn’t know you were coming over tonight.” She turns accusing eyes to Lydia for not telling her.
“It was an unexpected visit,” Lydia informs her.
“Sorry about that,” Stiles claps his hands together. “I just stopped by to prep our chemistry project a little.”
“Chemistry project,” Karen repeats, intrigued. “Can I see what you have so far?”
Lydia exchanges a glance with Stiles. “It’s a work in progress…”
“I just wanna see,” Karen presses with a broad smile. “Can’t a doting mother be proud?” She teases wholeheartedly.
“Yeah, I’ll let you know if I find one,” Lydia jokes back, earning a mock-offended look from her mother. She laughs as she pulls out her science notebook, deciding to pull up some random assignment and label it a project.
“What class is this for?” Karen leans in to watch as Lydia flips through the pages.
“Chemistry,” Stiles answers for her, hanging behind the two females.
“Here,” Lydia points to a random page.
Karen can’t understand what she’s looking at in the slightest, but she wants to be there for her daughter, more than she has these past… years. “Wow, that’s incredible.” She turns bright eyes to Stiles. “You two did awesome.”
“Thanks, we have amazing chemistry,” Stiles nods proudly. He only realizes what he’s done when he sees Lydia’s jaw drop. “ – At the class,” he adds lamely, his excuse lacking any sense.
“I’ll bet.” Karen raises her eyebrows at her daughter, giving her a stare that surely said “we’ll talk about this later”. She disappears down the hall.
“You idiot,” is all Lydia can think to say.
“I should really be going,” Stiles fumbles, flustered as he looks around her room. “Did I bring my stuff?’
Lydia gapes at his stupidity. “No…”
“Right, because we weren’t hanging out,” Stiles declares pointedly. “Woods.”
“You’re making no sense, just get out,” Lydia grabs her pen, loosely pointing toward the door before glancing down at her notes like she’s doing homework. It’s mostly just to hide the smile on her face.
“Bye,” he relents, his shoulders drooping at the pathetic ball of awkward that he was.
When the door finally shuts behind him, Lydia bursts into a fit of giggles, momentarily forgetting the horror show that was her night.
ALL RIGHTS GO TO summerwick (from tumblr) AND JEFF DAVIS WHO I HATE SO MUCH