When Lydia Martin was 8, she had no friends. While all the other kids ran around on the playground, she chose to sit on the benches between the tetherball poles and the foursquare courts. She preferred reading books –most recently she had begun to read the 7th grade math textbook. Whenever a classmate would come over to see if she wanted to play with them, usually due to uneven teams, she'd choose her fractions over whatever activity they wanted her to participate in.
At first, she didn't care when the students stopped coming to ask her even when they were desperate for players. She continued to read her books, only glancing up at the others every half page or so. When one day, no one talked to her at all –not during recess, not during lunch, not during class- she went home, smiled her pretty smiles at her parents, who barely noticed her as they continued to argue, and went to her room to cry. She wanted to change who she was so that others would like her more, but if Lydia was anything, she was stubborn.
The next day, she went to her usual bench to read and was surprised when a boy she recognized from class came to sit next to her. He wasn't pretty like Jackson. His ears were too big for his face and his haircut made him seem younger than he was. He was smart, she knew, but didn't care about learning as much as she did. She wasn't exactly sure why he was near her at all, but inside, she was happy he'd even noticed her. And the first words he ever said to her made her fall in love with him.
"What are you reading? That looks interesting!"
She stared at him, wide-eyed and confused. No one had ever asked what she was reading before. No one had ever cared enough to ask her about herself or her books.
"It's, um, math," she said, knowing that once he actually understood what she was doing, he'd get bored of her. When she looked at him and saw he was still listening with a smile on his face, she elaborated, "I took in from the middle schooler's classroom. It's mainly about fractions."
And his smile spread from ear to ear, making his ear appear larger and him even more ridiculous looking.
"That's amazing! And you understand it?" She nodded. "Would you teach me?"
Her eyes widened and she studied him for a few seconds. His smile didn't fade and he seemed sincere.
"Sure," she said.
He laughed, making Lydia smile. She flipped to the front of the book again and was about to start when Stiles spoke again.
"I'm Stiles, by the way!"
"Lydia," she replied.
He smiled at her and said, "I know."
And from that day on, they were friends. Every recess, she'd teach him what she knew; every day after school while they were waiting for their parents to pick them up, Stiles spoke a mile-a-minute about everything and anything. And quiet Lydia, oddly enough, didn't care that with him around there was never silence.
For months, they were inseparable during school. She knew that after school and during weekends, he had other friends that he hung out with, but during school, he was all hers. Until he wasn't.
Months after they met, Lydia came to school just as the bell rang. She smiled at Stiles, and he looked at her before giving a small smile. Class went on as normal, and when recess came around, she went to her usual spot and waited for Stiles. He never showed up. He'd left school before lunch, but she knew he'd be back the next day.
The next day, she waited again, and he still didn't show up. The next Monday, he showed up again to school, and she smiled at him like she always did. He didn't smile back. At recess, she went to her usual spot and waited for him, but he never showed up. But she didn't give up hope that first day. And the next day, and the next and the next. And when two weeks passed, she stopped waiting. She stopped sitting on the benches between the tetherball poles and the foursquare courts. She stopped going outside for recess, and instead chose to hide in the library for the 45 minutes she was supposed to be outside. No one talked to her there, and she preferred it that way.
And when Stiles started hanging out with his old friends, particularly Scott, during school, she pretended not to notice, pretended to not care that he chose to start hanging out with them again, but not her. And when she walked by them after lunch and heard Scott say "Lydia just needs to stop reading all the time. Maybe if she talked and dressed nicer, people would like her more. Maybe then she wouldn't need you to be her only friend" she chose to not say a word and just ran to the library.
That weekend, her dad was out of town and her mother was working. Her mother was always working. When she finally paused to take a break, Lydia took her chance.
"Mom." Her mother looked at her questioningly. "Can we go shopping?"
Her mother let out a sigh and replied, "Lydia, sweetie, I have to work. I don't have time to take you to the bookstore. Maybe next weekend."
She looked down embarrassed before quietly saying, "I wanted to get new clothes, like dresses. And a haircut. I want to look pretty."
Her mother looked at her for a minute before standing up and grabbing her hand.
"Let's go."
From that weekend on, Lydia Martin was no longer the freak bookworm. She was the girl everyone wanted to be. She was no longer sweet, innocent Lydia. She became mean and made fun of any girl who was like the older her. When Jackson took notice of her, she pretended not to notice. She heard the rumours, filled with giggles, as girls told her that Jackson wanted to kiss her and she should meet him at recess at the kickball field.
She went out of curiosity, not ever expecting to go through with it. A crowd gathered around Jackson and her, and she smiled. Jackson was talking, but she wasn't paying attention. He may be pretty, but he was completely dull and uninteresting. She instead chose to scan the crowd. And when she saw Stiles and Scott watching, she turned back to Jackson with a smirk. When he leaned toward her, she let him. When he pressed his lips to hers, she let him. And when the crowd gasped, she closed her eyes.
When she opened them, Jackson was smiling. He started talking and she nodded and pretended to listen. Her eyes darted to where she knew Stiles was just a minute ago.
He was gone.
Victory.
Eight years later, it was common knowledge that Stiles was in love with her, had been for since they were friends in the third grade. Lydia had first found out when she was 12, but by then it was too late. She'd made a name for herself, and she was happy. Perhaps not as happy as she had been for those few months in the third grade when she made her first friend in Stiles, but definitely happier than when he stopped being her friend. She never wanted to go through that.
"Lydia, just go to homecoming with him," Allison begged. "He's been in love with you since the third grade."
Lydia looked at her friend for a few minutes before turning away. It didn't matter if Stiles was in love with her. She'd loved him first. She'd loved him from that first day he sat with her, but she was different now. She had Jackson. She was happy.
"It's his own fault," she said as tears welled up in her eyes. She willed them to go away, to stop showing her weakness. "Why should I be punished for him liking me?"
"Just give him a chance," Allison begged. "Can't you even try to give him a chance?"
She'd given him a chance once before, and he'd broke her heart. She didn't love him anymore. She couldn't.
"Fine."
She did.
