There was nobody who knew Stiles better than Scott did. Not even Sheriff Stilinski. So, it was very hard to believe that Scott had no idea what was wrong with Stiles.
He was fucking clueless.
Normally, Stiles was a bouncing off the wall, always in your business, pain in the ass(but in a loveable way). But in the past days he was more reserved. Scott often caught him staring into space. He said it was because he was tired.
That was bullshit.
Scott was more than aware how much Ritalin that Stiles took. That dosage was enough to keep an elephant awake for a week.
So it had to be something else, but what?
—-
It was lunchtime when Scott approached his best friend. He slammed his tray on the table, waking Stiles from another daydream.
"Okay. What's wrong? You've been out of it for weeks, Stiles."
The pale, skinny boy nearly smiled at his friends intuitiveness. He was lucky to have a friend like Scott and he really wanted to get everything that happened off his chest.
"Scott, I kissed Lydia. Well, no. She kissed me. I was having a panic attack and she planted one on me. She said it was for scientific purposes but her green eyes were doing this glinty thing and I'm not so certain-"
The tanned boy waved his hands in front of Stiles. "Woah, Woah. Hold up. You kissed Lydia? Lydia Martin? The same girl who has ignored you-"
Stiles cut in, "I told you! I wasn't on her radar yet! Now, I am!"
They sat in silence after that. Scott was stunned to say the least. Sure, he was happy for his friend. This was all Stiles had ever dreamed about. But, on the other hand, he was worried. Was Stiles just gonna end up heartbroken?