Prompt: A fic about how I think (hope) Stydia will actually happen. Lydia gets into her dream college but Stiles feels left behind.
A/N: Malia and Stiles have been broken up a while. I had to do some of research for this around American colleges so sorry if my info is way off but I'm British; that's my excuse and I'm sticking to it.
Lydia stared at the black ink; it was her second acceptance letter in as many days. Yale and Harvard were schools she had been dreaming of attending for as long as she could remember. Why was it then that when she looked at the letters welcoming her - if she decided to join them - she got a decidedly unwelcome feeling in the pit of her stomach?
She'd thought that her attachments here were easily broken; five years ago, she could've left this town and never looked back. Her mother would've moved to wherever Lydia settled and her father didn't even pretend to care about her anymore; she'd even seen Jackson as an accessory, something that had helped her get to the top of the high school food chain. That was back when Lydia Martin had her life completely under control and a 5 year game plan to ensure she got exactly what she wanted.
Then her game plan went to complete shit; the arrival of Allison into her life, along with her entourage of werewolves and nerds ensured that.
"I got a full scholarship to play lacrosse at Cali state long beach!" says Scott excitedly. They're sitting around their usual outdoor lunch table – the heat recently has been almost unbearable – discussing the favourite topic of seniors; college.
"And it's great because Kira's going to UCLA so it's less than an hour drive," he smiles across the table at his girlfriend who blushes prettily – as she always does when he shows her any affection.
"Did you decide what to major in at Berkeley, Stiles?" Kira says quickly, averting the attention from her pink cheeks.
"Oh yeah," Stiles rubs the back of his neck, "I think I'm gonna go with computer sciences and see what else I can take along with that."
"Don't you worry you'll overwork yourself?" Kira asks.
Stiles shrugs, "I like learning and they offer a 'course tailored to you' type deal so you can rework it as you go."
"That sounds good, man, I'm glad you've settled," Scott grins across the table at his best friend.
"Changed your mind about college, Malia?" Lydia asks the were-coyote who looks a little bored with the choice of lunchtime conversation.
"No, I think I've had just about enough of school and I've only been back a year," everyone laughs, "I'm going to get a job this summer, maybe do some travelling. Hey, I'll come and see you all!" There are smiles all around at Malia's sudden enthusiasm.
"What about you, Lydia?" Kira asks quietly and suddenly Lydia feels all four pairs of eyes turn to her.
She'd been dreading this moment, even as she knew it was approaching. "Actually I've had two acceptance letters," she takes a deep breath, "one from Yale and one from Harvard."
There's a couple of beats of stunned silence before Scott says, "wow, Lydia those are great schools."
Kira beams at her, trying to cover the look of pure shock she knows her eyes are showing.
"You're seriously so smart, Lydia!" Malia says, "And clearly a better algebra teacher than Mr. Marks," she continues, motioning to the paper sat in front of her on the lunch table; a C- scrawled across the top in red ink. "This is two grades up from the last quiz we had!" Malia smiles at her red-haired friend happily.
Lydia returns the smile before her eyes absent-mindedly drift to Stiles, as they have been doing more and more frequently of late. She is shocked to see that his whole demeanour is completely closed off; Stiles is usually an open book. It tends to be quite clear just from his expression exactly what he's thinking, especially in regards to her.
She has to wait until they're walking to their next class together to speak to him privately.
"So," she starts, unsure of what she's trying to say to him, "it's great news that you know what you want to do at Berkeley."
"Really, Lydia?" he asks, not even turning his head to look at her. He's striding down the corridor and Lydia is having to hurry to keep up with him.
"Stiles just stop!" Lydia says, raising her voice a little, "what the hell is wrong with you?"
Stiles stops where he is, still refusing to look at her. "I could ask you the exact same question," he says in a low voice that sets her skin on fire. "When were you going to tell us you were moving to the other side of the country… when were you going to tell me?"
She can hear the hurt in his voice and at that moment she is glad she can't see his eyes. It's true that they have gotten much closer the past year and in all fairness he – they – had probably deserved some fore warning but Lydia always stood her ground when it came to being right.
"I have been dreaming of those colleges since middle school, surely you know that." Lydia says, "besides, I haven't even decided yet."
"You're moving to the other side of the country whatever you decide," it is only now that he turns to her, taking her hands in his. "Lydia, the pack can't protect you there," he takes a deep breath; "I can't protect you there."
She wants to smile at him but he's starting to piss her off. It's her choice where she goes to school; why the hell shouldn't she move to the other side of the country? And because she's still Lydia Martin she wants to piss him off as much as he's pissed her off.
"Why can't you be happy for me, Stiles? I got into two of the best schools in the country," her voice becomes soft, "if I leave then you need to move on."
She doesn't know if it's what she said or the way she said it but Stiles turns without a word and leaves. She regrets instantly what she just said, it's not like she wants-
Lydia follows after him once he's disappeared around the corner; slipping through the door of the classroom just as he takes his seat. The look on his face makes it clear that he's doing his best to ignore her and for the first time in two years Lydia isn't ravenously taking notes in physics. Instead she's busy staring at the back of Stiles' head two rows in front, willing him to turn around and smile at her as he often does when they have class together. He's never ignored her like this before and Lydia wonders how long his conviction will last.
He disappears after school without saying a word to anyone and Lydia escapes the pack's questioning with an excuse about helping her mom.
Lydia arrives home shortly after four and sits on her front porch, the hot weather spell had finally broken not ten minutes previously and a thunderstorm is threatening, turning the sky grey and purple. Having lived in California all her life has meant that storms are a relatively rare experience for Lydia but now she thinks she knows what people mean when they say the weather matches their mood. She watches as the rain starts as a sprinkle and becomes a downpour; picking moodily at her sleeve and checking her phone again. Seventeen; that's how many times she's called Stiles and that's how many times he's ignored her calls.
"Hey mom," Lydia says with a rueful smile as Natalie appears through the front door.
"Oh Lydia honey, you're going to catch a cold out here," her mom says, handing her daughter a now very familiar envelope. Lydia's heart skips a beat inside her chest and her fingers start to tremble; she knows that the contents of said envelope could be the solution to her problem. When she finally manages to open the letter she gets up and pulls her car keys out of her pocket. "I'll see you later mom, there's somewhere I have to be."
"In this weather?" Natalie shouts to an already rain-soaked Lydia.
Lydia's answer is drowned out by a rumble of thunder.
She knows logically that a car is the safest place to be during a thunderstorm – the metal body acts as a Faraday cage which conducts the electricity away and through the rubber tyres to the ground - but that doesn't stop a shiver racing down her spine. The lighting follows shortly afterward and with the rain pounding on the windshield she can hardly see a thing.
The wind howls against the house; Stiles ignores it, since he got home from school he's been looking through his unsolved cases. He was taking Lydia's advice and trying to move on; there was no point in dwelling on her moving across the country when it just made him feel worse than he already did. He'd been pining for Lydia Martin since third grade but it was only in the last two or three years he thought he might've actually had a shot with her and lately they'd been growing even closer still... CRACK! The thunder brings him out of his reverie.
The storm is getting worse he thinks; an incessant pounding registers dimly on the edge of his hearing. He pushes his chair away from the computer and presses his hands to both of his eyes the concentration he had was entirely gone. He walks to the window, glancing out at first with mild fascination and then with complete surprise.
His first thought is to ignore the strawberry blonde girl he has loved for nine years banging on his door but then lightning splits the sky in two with its jagged path and he realises that no matter how mad he is, he just can't leave her out there.
She's soaked with rain and her hair hangs in limp strands. To Stiles she still looks breath-taking.
"What do you want Lydia?" He asks, in the most unaffected voice he can muster.
She reaches inside her pocket and pulls out a slip of paper, the corners of which are slightly wet. It's obvious she's tried her best to keep it dry.
She hands it to him and for a second it's like he can't read again, his vision blurs and the words merge into one. When he finally comprehends what he's seeing - an acceptance letter from Stanford - his mind can't process the information quickly enough for him to come up with a logical explanation.
"You," she says in simple answer to his question.
She steps through the door towards him, reaching up to place her hands on either side of his face and kisses him. Her lips taste of rain water and Stiles isn't entirely sure what to do with his hands but none of that matters because Lydia Martin is kissing him. She parts from him but leaves her forehead resting against his.
"What happened?" he manages to ask her.
"It was a last minute submission; I wasn't sure why I was applying at the time. Now I realise that even then, some part of me knew that I wouldn't be able to bear leaving you. I'm so sorry for what I said, Stiles. I'm so sorry."
This time it's him that kisses her, pushing her back against the open door and kissing her with a passion that he hadn't known he'd had in him until this moment. He buries his hands in her hair and kisses her neck and Lydia's whimper is all it takes for him to bring his lips back to hers. He takes a breath and kisses her gently, rubbing his thumb up and down her jawline. Her hands cling to the front of his shirt like it's all she can do to hold on.
Lydia Martin has never been satisfied with just a kiss… but there's the rule and then there's the exception.