"And then, Allison and I-" The sound of the bell cut off the tail end of Scott's sentence.
"Thank God," I murmured to myself.
It wasn't like I didn't enjoy my best friend Scott's endless stories about all the wondrous things he and his girlfriend (or ex-girlfriend, depends on who you asked) would do when they were together, it was just that it could get a little tiring. Can you really blame me for being slightly bitter toward him? The guy has the girl, the looks, and the freaky supernatural abilities. What do I have? A great big bunch of nothing. My life was a certifiable suck fest.
"Mr. Stilinski," I looked at Mr. Harris as my last name left his mouth. I was wondering what I had done wrong this time. Maybe I was breathing too loud. "Who is it that sits behind you?"
I turned around to see the desk behind me was empty. I frowned at this and turned back to answer.
"Oh, that's-"
"Ah, Miss Martin." Mr. Harris had turned his attention from me to the strawberry-blonde making her way toward her seat behind me. "Your disregard for being on time is truly something to be desired."
I would have rolled my eyes at his snide remark but my eyes were too busy looking – okay, staring but honestly, I couldn't help it. I had been haplessly pining over Lydia Martin since, I don't know...forever.
As she strutted toward me, I was expecting our usual routine to take place. She would catch me staring and call me out in front of everyone. I would deny it, wait a few seconds and then admit to it. Then she would give me the "in your dreams, Stiles" speech and I'd sigh realizing she was probably right. My dreams were the only place I'd ever be able to get her.
When none of this happened, I felt a little bit of concern. The closer she got, the clearer it became. The red nose, slightly puffy eyes, the sudden case of the sniffles and the tissue held in her manicured fingers. She had been crying.
I waited until she was seated to discreetly turn around. Or at least I tried to be discreet.
"You okay?" I whispered to her.
"I'm fine." She said with a nod.
"You don't look fine." Realizing how that must have sounded, I tried to rephrase. "I didn't mean it like that. I mean, you look great, as usual. What I meant was-"
"Mr. Stilinski!" I jumped at the sound of my name. "I really don't want to interrupt your inevitable failure of an attempt to woo Miss Martin but I'm kind of teaching a class here. So unless you want to earn detention for yourself and your little crush, I suggest you turn around and pay attention."
"Sorry," It really hurt my soul to apologize to that man.
"Now, back to the lesson."
The rest of the class went by agonizingly slow. I was dying to turn around and attempt to make Lydia feel better seeing as how she was obviously upset and I was the only one who seemed to notice (or care). It had always been that way. Whenever she was in one of her "moods", I'd always get concerned. When no one else cared, I did.
When the bell rang I waited a moment or two before I stood up. Just long enough to let her pass. I was anxious to talk to her but I didn't want to come off as too desperate.
As soon as she walked by, I stood up, following her out of the classroom.
"Lydia, wait up!" Smart, beautiful and a fast walker. She was the whole package.
"Leave me alone, Stiles. I'm not in the mood."
"Are you ever in the mood to talk to me?"
"Never. All the more reason for you to just give it up."
I stopped in the middle of the hallway to catch my breath. I was winded and I was in sneakers. I didn't understand how she did it in those heels.
While I was stopped, she had managed to make it to her locker. I saw a couple of guys approach her. Something about the dumb smirks on their faces told me this wasn't going to be good.
"Can I help you with something?" I heard her ask in that signature tone of hers.
"Yeah, I was wondering if you could help me with my homework?" I knew this guy. Gavin York. He wasn't the sharpest tool in the shed so his wanting homework help was completely understandable.
"Me and my buddy Nate are working on our psych class project and we thought we could get extra points if we brought in a real life schizophrenic." Gavin and his friends started laughing. I thought about intervening but I saw the look on Lydia's face. It was a look I myself had experience one too many times. She had things under control.
"Excuse me?"
"Oh come on Lydia, you know the whole school thinks your crazy." He said as it were the most obvious thing on the planet. "You took a naked two day vacation in the woods. No sane person does that."
"Not to mention the creepy backwards writing in class. What was it again? 'Help me'?" Nate chimed in.
I watched with a bit of excitement. These guys were going to get it. She was going to rip them new ones. I had said much nicer things and gotten chewed out, these guys were being pricks so surely they were going to get their asses handed to them.
My hopes for a verbal thrashing were shattered when instead of getting on these guys for what they said, she just walked away.
"No way," I couldn't believe it. I couldn't believe it even more when she came toward me and I saw tears on the verge of spilling out and making their way down her face.
"Lydia, wait," I attempted to grab a hold of her wrist as she passed but failed. Once again, I was chasing her down.
That was always my role in our great (complicated) relationship. When we were kids in grade school, I chased her around the playground. I would get mad at anyone else who tried to chase her. That was my job. And still, years later in high school, I'm still chasing.
Just as I wondered when the chasing would end, I saw her disappear into the girls' restroom. I stopped in front of the door and thought about it for a second. Only Lydia would have me thinking about whether or not to go into the girls' restroom.
"I can't believe this," I said aloud before entering the restroom. It was different in there. Cleaner than the boys and better smelling.
"Huh. I always pictured furniture in here." I said to no one in particular.
"Stiles?" The first stall door swung open and out she came. "What are you doing in here?"
Just when I opened my mouth to speak, the bell sounded.
"Skipping class apparently." I never intended on being late to math but I wasn't complaining. Lydia beats math any day. "And I was checking on you. You seemed upset in class and I heard what Gavin and his friend said. So is everything all right? Something you want to talk about?"
She shook her head, her always perfect hair bouncing as she did. "Like I said earlier, I'm fine."
I nodded slowly. "Well if you say so-"
"And besides, why do you care anyway?"
"I don't know, maybe because I'm a nice guy who hates to see a pretty girl sad."
She pursed her lips in that adorable way she always does whenever she's confused or trying to make sense of things.
"You think I'm sad?"
"Well you were just crying and people who are sad tend to cry." I pointed out.
"I'm not sad or upset or any other synonym for the word." She paused and closed a bit of the distance between us. Then she looked up at me with those stupid (beautiful) green eyes and uttered the two words I never thought I'd ever hear Lydia Martin say.
"I'm scared."
I knew my eyebrows probably rose off of my forehead but I couldn't help but be surprised. This was the same girl who never let anything or anyone intimidate her. Ever.
"Can I ask why?" I couldn't imagine anything that could scare her. Unless of course she knew about the werewolves and giant lizards running around then I could see where the fear came from.
"Okay, listen Stilinski, what I'm about to tell you does not leave this bathroom, got it?" She asked, or rather demanded, pushing her manicured finger into my chest.
"Got it." Her little tough girl act faded upon my agreement.
"I have these nightmares about whatever – I mean, whoever attacked me on the field that night."
I noticed how she corrected herself. She knew what had attacked her that night was far from human but, her being oh-so-logical, she couldn't let herself believe it.
"Its like I relive it over and over again. And I think I'm starting to see things. It's like I'm losing my mind. Everyone thinks I'm crazy." I could see tears forming in her eyes. "I used to be so put together and now look at me. I'm a total mess."
I wanted to answer her questions, tell her the truth so at least she wouldn't feel like she was losing it but I knew if I did Scott would probably kill me. Keeping secrets from people you care about really sucks.
"And I know Allison is busy with Scott stuff and Jackson," She just used an eye roll to justify his whereabouts. "But it's like everyone is trying to keep me from knowing something. No one will bother to give me any answers. Its like no one is here for me."
"Uh, if you haven't noticed, me, a guy, is standing in the girls' bathroom for you. Doesn't this count as 'being here for you?"
Maybe I was seeing things myself, but I could swear I saw her crack a smile, just for a quick second.
"Lydia," I walked up to her, grabbing her hands in mine. Boy, was I feeling bold. "I know you probably wont believe me but I believe you."
Maybe I could tell her the truth without actually telling her the truth. If anyone deserved it, she did.
"I know you're not crazy. I know those jerks out there think so but I don't. What happened to you was terrible and trust me, I'm sure whoever did it to you got what they deserved. And I know you know that something else, something weirder, is going on around here and I don't doubt that you'll find out what it is. In the meantime, though, whenever you need someone to be there, I'll be there. I mean why else do you think I follow you around?"
"You mean its not because you're pathetic and can't take no for an answer?" Ah, there was the Lydia I knew (and loved…a lot).
"Eh, that's only about forty-five percent of why I follow you." I said with a shrug. "Just promise me next time we talk it'll be some place other than the girls' bathroom?"
Before she answered she looked down at our intertwined hands and quickly snatched hers away from mine.
"What makes you so sure they'll be a next time?" She asked with a raised eyebrow.
"You're right. I'm not sure if they'll be a next time." I held my finger up to emphasize my next point. "But if there is, I'll be here for you. I'm always here for you…just not in the girls' bathroom, please."
Yep. It was true. I, Stiles Stilinski, would always be there for Lydia Martin. No matter if she reciprocated the favor or not, I would always be there to hear her out, give her a shoulder to cry on, whatever.
Just, of course, not in the girls' bathroom.
Okay, even in the girls' bathroom.