"Hey, Stiles," I said as I sat down at the lunch table across from him.
"What's up, Scott? Hey, are you going to that bonfire this weekend?"
The bonfire was going to be a huge event. It seemed like everyone was talking about it. I had never been to a bonfire before, but, from what I'd heard around school lately, it was basically an event where everyone sat around drinking and just having a good time. That seemed like my kind of party.
"Oh, yeah. I forgot about that. Yeah, I'm going. I meant to talk to you about that. You're coming with, right?"
"Duh," he responded.
"I'm gonna bring Allison, too," I said.
Stiles rolled his eyes. "Of course you are. Don't you ever have time for Stiles anymore?"
I felt guilty. Stiles had been my best friend my entire life and he felt neglected. That didn't seem right. The last thing I wanted was for Allison to come between us. My love for them was equal.
"I'm sorry, dude. I didn't realize." I scratched my head, not knowing what else to say.
"Well, now I'm offended. You should know me well enough to recognize when I'm pulling your leg. I don't care that you spend every waking moment with Allison. She's your girlfriend.
I smiled awkwardly in response. I was also surprised at myself for not catching his sarcasm. I usually always did. When you're best friends with someone who has sarcasm as the majority of their vocabulary, you become a natural at telling it apart from serious statements.
"Anyway, weirdo, have you even asked Allison to come with you?"
"Like you said yourself, she's my girlfriend. Isn't it kind of a given?"
"Yeah, but did you ask her? The point of asking is not to receive an answer; it's to let her know to clear her schedule," Stiles said like it was so obvious.
"Oh. I get it," I answered as it slowly clicked in my mind.
Stiles rolled his eyes at how clueless I was.
Sometimes, at moments like those, I felt like I wasn't even ready for a girlfriend. I felt like I should know those things on my own, but I didn't. Allison had constantly reassured me that I was an excellent boyfriend to her. I was always doubting myself and she noticed it. I loved her so much. That was why, even though I felt like I wasn't ready for a girlfriend, I must have been. Maybe Allison wasn't just a girlfriend. I really did feel like she was something more, but how could someone be more than a girlfriend? Unless you're married, they couldn't be, in theory, but Allison was something to me that didn't even have a title. She was simply an Allison: a magnificent Allison. Yeah, I wasn't ready for a girlfriend; I was ready for an Allison, which was in an entirely different dimension from a girlfriend. I couldn't believe I actually even had an Allison, or, rather, it felt like an Allison had me; it had me good. I felt like the single luckiest guy on the planet to have her. It was scary, really. What made Scott McCall deserve to have an Allison in his life? If you asked me, nothing did. There was no way that anyone in the universe could actually deserve an Allison. No, an Allison is something that you could never deserve, but if you were the one lucky enough to receive her affection, you would love her so much that you yourself would become bound in such a way that there wouldn't be anyone else on Earth that you could be with.
Before we knew it, lunchtime was over. As usual, I met Allison at her locker on the way to my next class.
"Hey," I said, smiling.
"Hey," she said back and kissed me.
"So, the bonfire," I started, "it's this weekend, well, Sunday, specifically."
"Say no more. I was awaiting your invitation. As a matter of fact, I was practicing my upset face for if you didn't ask me," she said jokingly.
After realizing that I was about to be late for my class again, I smiled, gave her a quick kiss, and jogged off down the wide hallway, bordered by lockers. I saw her giggling when I turned back midway through my trek. I loved to see her laugh.
The rest of the school day went by in a sort of blur for me. Come to think of it, it sort of always did. I was so relieved to hear the bell ring signaling the end of my final class period and the beginning of a very romantic weekend with Allison. I was herded through the school's front doors with Stiles and a mob of students, just as ecstatic for the weekend as us, as we headed for his Jeep. He was rambling on about something, but I was in my own head thinking of ways to be romantic with Allison after the bonfire on Sunday.
"Scott? Are you even listening to me?"
"Huh? Oh, yeah, yeah. Something about...werewolves?"
He sighed. "I said I hope Derek and his werewolf clan don't cause any problems for us at the bonfire, such as having some sort of crisis during which we have to leave the bonfire and go help."
Stiles was right. That was something to seriously worry about. With Derek, compromising situations seemed to present themselves fairly routinely, and I definitely didn't need him calling me in to help him stop another murderous shapeshifter on the prowl while I tried to impress Allison Sunday night.
"Oh. Yeah. I hadn't thought about that. Well, that's kind of a 'round-the-clock, back-of-my-mind issue anyway, so," I responded, hunching my shoulders and accepting that unpredictability was at the core of the werewolf lifestyle.
Stiles started his Jeep and started to reverse out of the parking space
"Hey, how about I stay at your house for a bit rather than going straight home. I don't really have anything else to do."
My weekends were always open during the daytime since Allison and I couldn't meet up in the forest preserve until it got dark.
"What am I, just your last resort for when you get bored?"
"Oh, I...uh...," I stuttered as I searched the depths of my mind for a proper response.
"Once again, kidding. What is up with you lately? I'm like the king of sarcasm; you know that."
I shook my head in a meager attempt to snap myself out of whatever was causing his sarcasm to blow right over me lately.
We pulled into his driveway and hopped out of his car. Stiles fumbled with his keys at the door.
"Gah!" he exclaimed in frustration.
His father opened the door just as Stiles put the key in.
"Dad! I almost had it," Stiles complained.
His father just rolled his eyes and walked away.
We went upstairs to his room and I plopped down on his bed. "What do you think I should do for Allison, I mean, after the bonfire?"
"Whoa, whoa, whoa; too much information, much?"
"No, I meant, like, romance-wise," I responded quickly, slightly embarrassed that he thought I was asking him about that.
"Ugh. For some reason, that grosses me out ten times more. I change my mind; let's just talk about the sex instead."
"Stiles," I said, saying his name in a drawn-out whine.
"Ugh. Fine. Just, shut up. Um, flowers, chocolates; what else is there? Scott, I've never had a girlfriend."
"It's not Valentine's Day; I just wanna be kinda romantic before, you know, we get to the good stuff," I said in a sexual tone of voice to annoy him because I knew it repulsed him to discuss me and Allison's sex life.
"Oh, God," he said as if he would vomit, which made me giggle involuntarily. "Uh, really though, Scott, just follow your heart."
"Hmm. Follow my heart," I repeated. "I like that," I said, surprised at how genuine his suggestion seemed.
"I'm pretty sure I got that from a Disney movie," he said, helplessly cracking up at himself as he said the last few words.
"Stiles!" I yelled, laughing. I picked him up from his desk chair and slammed him on his bed. He was laughing and wrestling to get me off of him as I tortured him with tickles. Stiles was always the most ticklish person I knew, so I used it against him whenever I needed to, even when we were younger.
After I felt like he'd learned his lesson about not taking my personal issues seriously, I stopped tickling him and we settled down. We were both breathing hard and letting out a few scattered laughs as we lied parallel to each other on Stiles' striped blue comforter.
I turned my head to look at him and he did the same. I smiled. "Take me home," I ordered, still laughing slightly.
Stiles, still smiling, proceeded to put his jacket on and walk down the stairs toward the front door. I followed. As we got in his Jeep, something came over me and there was something that I needed to tell him at that moment.
"I love you," I said, looking him in the eyes to let him know that I was serious. Then, I smiled to garnish the seriousness with lightheartedness.
Stiles tilted his head. "I love you too," he said, scrunching his face up at me.
I giggled and Stiles backed out of his driveway to head for my house.
I relished those moments, the moments where there was no wolf drama. Those kinds of moments had become rare lately with all of the drama going on with Derek and his crew. Sometimes, I forgot that I was a teenager and that I needed laughter, playfulness, and a little fun every now and then just like every other teenager. Stiles helped keep that in my life most of the time. Without him, I probably would not have felt as stress-free as I did at that moment, and, for that, I truly did love him, even though I would love Stiles regardless.
When we reached my house, I smiled at Stiles and got out of the car. Smiling at each other was a way we said "goodbye" sometimes, probably because we never wanted to say the actual words. Those words meant that we would be apart, and me and Stiles were always stronger and better in every way when we were together.
I unlocked the door and walked into the house. Stiles was waiting on me to get in before he drove off. I waved to signal that he could go, which he proceeded to.
The house was empty. It was the nighttime, so my mother was at work. I hadn't left a message for Allison on her window because of the great plans I had for her after the bonfire. I decided that holding off on our "midnight meetings" would make it all the more special. I began to regret my decision, though, after I thought about the worry she might feel, as we had been meeting up every night in the forest preserve. As if by fate, I felt my phone vibrate and saw that it was a text message from Allison asking if everything was alright with a smiling emoticon. I sent her a response telling her that I couldn't meet her tonight because I was tired. I walked up the stairs to my room and dropped my backpack on the floor. I unzipped my jacket and tossed it aside, kicking my shoes off after I got into my bed. I really was tired, and I felt myself begin to slowly fall asleep a few minutes later, still wearing my jeans and t-shirt. I started to contemplate again on how I would woo Allison. It was Friday night, so I had a couple of days to concoct a plan. I don't know why I was so dead set on impressing her after the bonfire. It just seemed kind of right; bonfires seemed pretty romantic. I may not have been the smartest guy, but I sometimes did great things when I used my heart instead of my mind, and with the way my heart inflated around Allison, I was confident that it'd be effortless to follow its beats all the way to a showing of affection that would pluck her heartstrings in a melodic symphony when the time came. I inevitably dreamt of her. They say you dream of the things that were occupying the most space in your mind before you drifted off into sleep.
