Stiles walked through the grocery store's automatic double doors and made a beeline for the cereal aisle. Once he had arrived at his destination, he surveyed his options laboriously, as he did every time he had to make this life and death decision. He walked the length of the aisle, moving his eyes over the colorful boxes. As he turned on heel to walk back to the other end of the aisle, a flash of red hair caught his eye. Could it be Lydia? Stiles shamelessly lunged toward the end of the aisle, only to see a fleeting glimpse of a girl who was not Lydia. Crestfallen, he returned to his cereal boxes.
As he neared the end of the aisle again, still not having made a decision, he saw the girl he had thought was Lydia. She was looking at the sign above the cereal aisle, wondering if it had what she needed. He could see now that her hair was a darker sort of red and she had a freckled complexion. She wasn't Lydia, but she sure was cute. Stiles couldn't get away with openly staring for long because she soon shifted her eyes down the aisle. Stiles stood up straighter and pretended to be contemplating his cereal selection. However, she gazed right through him with a perplexed look on her face; then, realizing the aisle did not have what she needed, continued on her way.
Deflated, Stiles made one more pass of the cereal aisle, grabbed a box of Captain Crunch, and headed toward the milk. As he left the aisle, he nearly collided with the red-haired girl.
"Whoa, sorry!" Stiles spluttered.
She gave him a shy smile. "It's okay."
Embarrassed, Stiles nodded and laughed uncomfortably, then moved toward the dairy section. Nice one, he thought to himself, running his hands exasperatedly through his hair.
He picked up a gallon of milk, and glanced back. The girl stood only a few feet from where they had had their run-in, still empty handed, hands on her hips, staring straight ahead.
Stiles jumped at the opportunity. "Hey, do you need help?"
The girl looked over at him. Now that he was in the spotlight, he grew nervous. "I mean, uh, it just seems like you're having trouble finding something, and I, you know, I could point you in the right direction, if you want…" He internally cringed.
To his surprise, she laughed. "Is it that obvious?"
Stiles relaxed, realizing she didn't think he was a total creep. "No, no, not at all. I just––"
"It's okay, you don't have to humor me. Can you please just tell me where they keep the eggs in this place?"
A look of understanding washed over Stiles' face. "Ah, the eggs," he said. "You know, that's kind of a local joke around here."
"Really?" she responded, taking a couple steps toward him and seeming genuinely interested.
"Yeah, they're basically hidden. C'mon, I'll show you."
Together they walked along the dairy section until they got to the end and, tucked away on the side of the dairy freezer were the eggs.
"Tada!" Stiles splayed his arms out dramatically.
"Thank god!" the girl replied. She grabbed a carton and examined its contents. Deciding they were adequate, she closed the lid, and looked at Stiles. "Is this some sort of newbie hazing or something?"
He laughed. "Well, not exactly. But it does make it pretty dang obvious that someone isn't from here."
Together, they started walking toward the check-out lines.
"I guess you caught me," she replied.
"So, you're an outsider, then?" Stiles questioned jokingly.
"Hah, yeah, I guess so."
"Where from?"
They had arrived at the check-out.
"You know, here and there," she responded elusively, throwing him a smile before walking over to a different line. "Thanks again for showing me the eggs!" she called over to him from her line.
"Yeah, no problem!" he called back. "No problem at all," he commented to himself, smiling like an idiot.
"Paper or plastic?" the cashier droned, calling him back to reality.
"Uh, paper," he replied.
He hastily finished paying and looked over to the other line, but she had already left. Stiles rushed toward the exit and burst through the double doors, looking like a spazz as his eyes darted around the parking lot. It was hard to tell in the growing darkness, but he knew she was gone. Stiles sighed and slumped toward where he had parked his jeep.
His spirits soared as he realized the girl was at the bike rack, putting the eggs into her bike basket. As she turned her bike away from the rack, she saw him.
"You again?" she asked teasingly.
"Hey, it's not my fault you parked your bike by my jeep," Stiles replied, sticking his hands up. He unlocked his car and threw his grocery bag in.
"Thanks again," she told him. "Really."
"You're welcome," he replied. "Next time try not to look too lost, okay?"
She laughed and climbed onto her bike. "I'll try."
Before she could ride away, he opened his big mouth. "Do you need a ride home?"
She stopped her bike and looked back at him. "I mean, I have my bike…"
"Right, sorry, stupid question." Stiles could feel himself dying on the inside.
"Thanks for the offer, though," she added. "And don't take it personally. I don't accept rides from strangers. It's a matter of principle."
"I'm Stiles."
"Lacey." She smiled. "You know this doesn't change anything, right?"
"Yeah, I know," he admitted. "Is me driving next to you on your way home against your principles? I mean, it is getting dark."
"I think my principles are okay with that," Lacey agreed, a smile hiding in the corner of her mouth.
"Okay, cool. 'Cause you never know with Beacon Hills." Stiles meant more by that than she would ever know.
"I don't know… seems like a pretty tame place to me," she told him.
Stiles laughed falsely and climbed into his jeep. He backed out of his spot and, soon, she was alongside him, riding her bike next to the passenger window. He rolled it down and they moved in silence for a moment.
"So, you said you're from 'here and there'," Stiles commented, breaking the silence. "What exactly does that mean?"
"Well, my parents died when I was seven," she told him. "So I've been bouncing around between foster families for some time. I can barely even remember all the places I've been."
"I'm sorry to hear that." Stiles genuinely meant it. "My mom died when I was about that age."
"You and your dad must be close, then?" she asked inquisitively.
"Yeah, yeah. I mean, it was rough when she first died, but we're tight now," Stiles replied. "He's actually the sheriff in Beacon Hills."
"Well, if I didn't feel safe before, now I definitely do," she joked. "Being escorted home by the sheriff's son."
Stiles laughed. "Is that a little bit of sarcasm, maybe?"
"Maybe." She grinned.
They had now exited the parking lot and were on the main road, but Stiles still kept the jeep at a steady crawl in order to stay next to her.
"Any siblings?" she continued.
"Nope," Stiles responded. "No biological siblings, anyway. My friend Scott and I have known each other since our sandbox days, though. He's basically my brother."
"That's so great." She sounded like she actually meant it. "I've had more foster siblings than I can count, but none I've ever clicked with like that."
"Yeah, I'm actually going with him to get his first tattoo after dinner," Stiles told her.
"That's so cool!" she replied, sounding thrilled. "What's he getting?"
"Just two bands around his arm, I think," he told her.
"So cool," she repeated. "How about you?"
Stiles laughed nervously. "Me? No––no way. I'm just hoping I can stay upright while he gets his."
"Not a fan of needles?" Lacey mused, smiling.
Stiles visibly shivered, looking nauseated. "Not in the slightest, actually," he admitted. "No needles, no blood…"
"Seems like you would be used to that kind of stuff by now," she commented.
"What would make you say that?" Stiles sputtered, almost defensively. What did this girl know? Had he said something he shouldn't have?
"Yeah, I mean, with your dad being the sheriff and all." As she said it, his heart immediately jumped out of his throat and back into his chest where it belonged.
"Oh. Oh, yeah. Seen tons of stuff," he replied falteringly.
"As far as the whole tattoo thing goes, I would do yourself a favor and not eat too much at dinner," she said lightheartedly.
"That shouldn't be a problem," Stiles told her. He held up the box of Captain Crunch, still keeping one hand on the steering wheel. "Dad's working late again. It's just cereal for me tonight."
"I feel ya on that one," she replied. "I'm living with one of my foster sisters here, actually. She's an ER nurse, so she works super late and sleeps all day. I barely ever see her."
"So you're not in a foster home in Beacon Hills?" Stiles inquired.
"No, I'm done with the whole foster home thing," she told him. "Technically I'm dodging the system 'cause I'm not eighteen yet."
"How does that work out, then?" he pressed.
"Well, Celeste is the oldest biological daughter of a couple of my foster parents. We met when I was fourteen and already sick of the whole foster kid business. She was in the middle of nursing school, but she told me when she was working and settled, I could come live with her. I thought it was one of those empty promise things, but I got a call from her a month ago and now here I am."
"Is she, like, your legal guardian now?"
"Not legally at all," she told him. "I put her down as my emergency contact for school and stuff, and the lease is under her name, but I still pay my half of the rent. She's there for me when I need someone over eighteen, but otherwise she does her thing and I do mine, and I like it that way."
"Are you guys close?" Stiles asked.
"Not really. I mean, I barely knew her when I was staying with her parents––only saw her for holidays and stuff. I just think she saw enough foster kids go through her parents' house and she finally wanted to give one a chance. Maybe she saw something in me, I don't know. But I'll be forever grateful, no matter what."
"Wow, that's really cool of her to do," Stiles said.
"Oh, take a right up here!" Lacey interrupted, turning her bike.
Stiles hadn't even thought to ask for directions. They had been traveling down the main road the entire time; at this point, they were only a couple miles from school. He followed her into a small housing community that he had passed many times on his way to school, but had never actually been inside.
"You're really close to school here," he observed aloud.
"You mean Beacon Hills High?" she asked, seeming excited. "Do you go there?"
"Well, yeah, I mean, it's the only high school in town," Stiles replied, smiling.
"Oh. I didn't know that," she said.
"I'm guessing you're going there too?" he asked, trying not to sound too eager.
"Yeah, my first day's tomorrow!"
"It's good that you're not starting in the middle of the year or anything," Stiles told her. "You get a fresh start like everyone else."
"It's gonna be so nice to have at least one friend there," she admitted, turning to smile at him.
"Yeah, I can totally show you around and stuff," Stiles offered, trying to sound cool.
"Okay, this is me up here." She pointed to a driveway in the cul-de-sac in front of them. She sped up and glided into the driveway. Stiles followed suit and pulled his jeep into the driveway as well.
She nudged her kickstand down with her heel and approached the passenger door again. This time, she let her arms rest on the door frame and peered inside at Stiles.
"Exactly how far is school from here?" she asked him. "And how do I get there?"
"I would say it's two miles max and all you have to do is follow that main road we were just on and then you'll see it on your left."
"All right." She just looked at him for a second, a slight smile on her lips, and he felt like he couldn't breathe. "Well, thank you again for driving beside me on my way home."
"Anytime," he replied, surprising himself with his smoothness.
"Oh! Let me get your number, just in case," she said, reaching into her back pocket and withdrawing her phone. She offered it to him and he took it, quickly punching in his number.
He handed it back. She looked at her phone screen, seeming confused. "'Stiles Stilinski'? Something tells me that Stiles isn't your real first name."
He laughed. "It's just a nickname."
"Huh. I like it," she admitted. "I'll text you so you have my number."
"Great," he returned.
"Well, tell Scott good luck with the tattoo," she insisted.
"Will do!"
"And good luck yourself," she teased. "Here's hoping you don't hit the deck!"
Stiles grinned at her. "Thanks. I'll see you tomorrow?"
"Yep!" she replied. "I'll see ya tomorrow, Stiles."
"See ya." And with that, he backed slowly out of the driveway, seeing her silhouette wave at him before collecting her eggs and walking through the front door.
His phone bleeped and he eagerly looked down at it, thinking it was Lacey. However, it was a text from Scott:
Dude where ru?
Stiles hadn't realized that his escorting Lacey home had made him late to pick up Scott for his tattoo appointment. He sped toward Scott's house.
"There you are, bro!" Scott exclaimed as Stiles pulled his jeep up to the curb. Scott hopped into the passenger side and clicked his seatbelt on. Stiles quickly pulled away from the curb and they were on their way.
"What took so long?" Scott asked curiously.
"I just got held up at the grocery store," Stiles said truthfully.
"By what?" Scott pressed, sensing that his best friend was holding back.
"A girl," Stiles admitted, smiling at the thought of her.
"If you're late because you ran into Lydia at the grocery store…" Scott began.
"No, not Lydia," Stiles told him. "Lacey."
"Lacey? Who's Lacey?"
