Nine Simple Rules
Summary:
"Transitioning back into the friend zone is easier said than done. Especially when your still living in such close quarters with your Ex. If they were going to stay friends they were going to need to set some ground rules. The only problem was that Stiles and Malia had never excelled at following rules." (Prequel of 'To Save a Life')
Author's Note: This is an unapologetically Stalia-centric story, so if your not up for that kindly exit stage left. Reviews are always welcome because it helps me grow as a writer and helps me understand what parts of my story readers are responding to. Nine Simple Rules is a prequel to the epilogue of my earlier story To Save a Life. I hope you like it ;)
USF Campus, San Francisco, CA.
Sophomore Year.
The old Beta Omega Rho fraternity house had once been a proud and stately building. With an elegant tower, a generous wraparound porch and burnished finials crowning its high roof. After the fraternity was dissolved the house and property were tied up in a legal dispute. And so it sat derelict for years slowly rotting at the edge of Greek row.
As the years past its patterned shingle siding started to chip and flake off. The intricate fretwork and wood turnings on the porch and rails started to weather and crack. The once gleaming brass finials rusted and warped as the house shifted on its foundation. The windswept old chapter house loomed darkly over its unkept yard, looking rather hollow and ominous.
Eventually it became known as the ghost house on campus. It became something of a tradition for the freshman to break into the old chapter house during rush week. In the last fifteen years the rooms and hallways had been overlain with graffiti. The local Delta Phi fraternity were known to plan an annual prank on the abandoned house. And when the pack had started renting it out in freshman year, the Delta Phi's had been unwilling to break with tradition.
That first year they had been blindsided by the pranks and vandalism. Freshman egged the house, toilet-papered the house and trees and spray-painted the garage. But the Delta Phi's they took things up a notch. They left a load of cow manure on the front porch blocking the doorway and burned a message in the lawn. A warning for the tenants to move out of their prank house.
When Scott had first pitched the idea of renting the decrepit old place out Stiles had laughed it off. The place had cracked windows, missing floorboards, leaky pipes and pealing wallpaper. It had old knob and tube wiring, questionable insulation and the whole house shuttered and groaned in the wind. What it did have to offer was a lot of square footage, a licence to do whatever they pleased with the property and the rent was dirt cheap.
It took about as much work to convince the girls to move in as it did to make the old house livable. But eventually they had the whole pack under one roof. Malia, Lydia and Kira shared the third floor while Scott and Stiles took the rooms on the second floor. After living in his drafty room for a week with creaky floorboards and an unreliable supply of hot water, Stiles had begun to doubt their decision. But then the Delta Phi's declared war and suddenly Stiles was ready to fight for that decrepit old house.
Scott and Stiles climbed up to the roof of the old chapter house and pried the old Greek letters off the side of it. From then on they called the chapter house Oldcastle and they were prepared to defend it. That week they snuck onto the Delta Phi portico roof and took down their Greek letters. Replacing them with the rusted old Beta Omega Rho ones. Their message was clear. We aren't going anywhere.
After being blindsided that first year they were much more prepared to defend the house in sophomore year. Scott and Stiles had jerry-rigged some traps for the would-be vandals and had armed themselves with an old fire-hose, tennis ball launchers, water balloons, roman candles firecrackers and cherry-bombs.
So when Stiles was sitting at his desk hunched over a textbook with a pen in his mouth, and the first egg of rush season slammed into his window, he wasn't all that surprised.
Muttering under his breath Stiles dropped his pen and textbook and rolled back from his desk. Crossing to the window he snagged his two-way radio off the charger as he peered through the egg on his window. The street was dark except for a pair of tail-lights
"Scott, look alive up there." Stiles urged, "You've got a bogie west wall."
The radio hissed with static. "…standby."
A tennis ball launched from the roof striking the target in the chest, forcing him backwards and knocking the box of eggs out of his hand. The target was hit three more times rapid fire with tennis balls before he managed to scramble back to his car and peel off.
The radio crackled back to life. "…west wall secured."
Stiles chuckled into his radio. "I take it back. The tennis ball launcher is totally worth it."
"…Right?" Scott agreed. "So… you ever coming… up here to help?" he asked him through the static.
Stiles sighed looking back at his desk with his open laptop and stack of textbooks. Returning to his desk he dropped back down into his chair morosely.
"Give me an hour. I've gotta finish this paper tonight."
"…you said that…an hour ago…" Scott protested.
"I'll be there in an hour. Just save some of the fun for me."
"If these idiots…keep coming…I can't…make any…promises…" Scott chuckled into the radio.
"Fair enough." Stiles conceded. Dropping the radio down on his desk Stiles flipped open his book and tapped his keyboard. The screen lit up and he had just found his place when the radio crackled again.
"…uh…Stiles?"
Stiles picked up his radio muttering, "Dude you're not helping."
"…Malia's…back…"
A knot settled in his stomach. Stiles quickly turned off his radio and hunched back over his textbook. Biting into his pen cap he forced his eyes to wade through the words on the page. Distantly he heard the front door slam and the creak of footsteps on the stairs. As they continued down the hallway. He felt a pang in his chest remembering the thousands of times he had looked up from his desk to find her leaning against his door frame. Now she sped past his doorway without even casting a glance his way. Stiles slumped in his chair letting out a frustrated sigh as he scrubbed his hand down his face.
Stiles and Malia had literally been through everything together. Like literally everything. They had survived chimeras, zombie Nazis, prom and algebra together. But even when you love someone things don't always work out. They had been broken up for a little over a month now. And being stuck in close quarters at Oldcastle wasn't helping either of them. After senior year they had made a promise to each other. That no matter what happened between them in future, they would always be there for each other. That they would always be friends.
The only problem was Stiles and Malia had never been just friends. There had always been a spark between them. And they had barely known each other before they had fallen headlong into a relationship. Now it was a struggle to disentangle their friendship from all that intimacy.
Malia's solution was to avoid him and skirt around the issue. Whenever they did find themselves in the same room together, they were just so awkwardly civil with each other. It drove Stiles crazy and gave him an urge to pick a fight if only to get some sort of reaction from her. He felt like he hadn't just lost his girlfriend in this breakup but also one of his best friends. How could you miss someone this much when they lived up the stairs and down the hall from you?
Straightening in his chair he flipped back open his textbook. Settling back over his desk he found his place. He was reaching for his pen, just as he caught a flash of Malia stalking past his doorway again in her running shorts. She had gotten into USF on a track scholarship. And she had been away at a track meet all weekend. Stiles had always loved her in her track uniform. He shook his head and tried to shake that image from his mind. He had to get this paper done tonight.
Stiles had just finished re-writing a paragraph, when he heard the squeak of the shower turning on. Stiles dropped his pen and shoved his chair away from his desk. There wasn't enough Adderall in the world to keep his mind on track now. Not when he knew Malia was in the shower twenty feet away from him. He grabbed his radio and stalked out his door. Flicking on his radio as he made his way down the hall.
"Hey Scott?" he called, "I'm on my way up. I hoped you saved me some tennis balls." He said as he jogged upstairs to the third floor. Stiles crossed the hall and mounted the narrow metal staircase that led to the tower attic.
"…dude, you're my….best friend…I even saved you some…roman candles…" Scott replied. Stiles grinned as he climbed up the tight staircase. Reaching the attic he crossed to the open window and climbed out of it. With practiced ease he scaled his way down from the tower window and dropped down onto the overhang of the roof. He made his way carefully in the dark toward Scott who sat dangling his feet off the overhang. Stiles sat down on the edge of the roof beside Scott.
"Good timing, we've got company." Scott whispered. Stiles squinted scouring the yard for movement.
"Where and how many?"
"Three. Coming at us from the east." Stiles nodded. Scott brought up his tennis ball launcher already taking aim as he handed Stiles a roman candle. "They're almost at the porch." Stiles grinned striking a match against the shingles. Time to blow off a little steam.
The three shadowy figures maneuvered across the lawn carrying something lengthy. Stiles looked to his friend lifting his shoulder. Scott shook his head and gestured for Stiles to wait. A metal ladder clattered as it was set against the house. Scott nodded to Stiles.
"HEY JACKHOLES!" Stiles yelled as he lit the fuse, "GET OFF MY LAWN!" The three figures looked up toward the roof just as Stiles tossed the Roman candle down onto the lawn. It fizzled as it hit the grass a tiny ember glowing in the dark. It startled the three trespassers but as it crackled and started to fade out, one of them started to snicker.
The three started to move back toward the house, until the Roman candle let out a low piercing whine behind them. With a small innocuous pop a white hot ball of light erupted from the paper tube. It shot out along the ground before arcing through the air. The three pranksters hollered as they dodged the flares. The Roman candle spun along the ground with momentum as it launched blast after blast in every direction. It threw the frat boys into confusion as they tried to dodge them and escape the yard. Eventually the three men managed to bolt from the yard, tripping over themselves as they ran. As they retreated, Scott fired a barrage of tennis balls at their backs, while Stiles hurled paint-filled water balloons and insults after them. Jumping into their truck they sped away.
Scott and Stiles were howling with laughter, slapping each other on the back as they congratulated themselves. Oldcastle was safe for now. Stiles clapped his hands before falling back against the shingles, his body wracked with laughter. Between the stress of his job, his growing course load and everything with Malia, he hadn't laughed like this in a really long time. His lungs burned as he sucked in a breath, still snickering. He took a few more steadying breaths before he sat up. Wiping a hand over his mouth as he grinned and looked to his best friend. Scott's shoulders were still shaking as he clutched his tennis ball launcher.
"Thanks, Man. I needed that." Stiles admitted. He was lucky to have such a solid best friend.
"Anytime." Scott replied casually. Then he reached over to grab something from beside him. "Here," he said passing Stiles a compact fire extinguisher. "You're on fire-safety. I've got to reload those tennis balls." Scott hopped down off the roof landing effortlessly on his feet. Stiles climbed down the rungs of the abandoned ladder. Scott rounded up the tennis balls in the dark while Stiles extinguished the Roman candle. He carefully searched for any wayward sparks before he started helping Scott.
A pair of headlights flashed across the yard blinding them both as it pulled into the driveway. Scott brought the tennis ball launcher up suspiciously. The door slammed shut and a pair of heels clicked out onto the concrete.
"Just what do you boys think you're doing?" Lydia asked. Scott lowered his tennis ball launcher looking sheepish, while Stiles shrugged as the fire extinguisher dangled from his hand. Kira appeared at Lydia's side assessing the pair of them. They were both carrying bags from their latest shopping excursion.
"You're home early." Scott observed, trying to change the subject.
"You're picking fights with the Delta Phi's again aren't you?" Lydia accused.
"Technically, everything we've done tonight has been in defense." Stiles countered.
"You do remember what happened last year don't you?" Lydia cautioned.
"Do you?" Kira asked. "Or did you forget about them ruining your best suede Prada's?"
Lydia flicked her hair, "Of course not, I loved those shoes." she said with regret. "But whatever it is that you two are doing, isn't working." She said pointing at the pair of them.
Kira looked between Lydia and the two boys and gave a tilt of her head. "Yeah, she might have a point there, guys."
Scott gave Lydia a sour look. Kira gave Scott a small smile and took a step towards him when her foot snagged on a fishing wire. Kira looked down at her foot, in confusion.
Stiles smacked Scott on the arm, "Scott, did you disarm th—" before Stiles could finish his sentence Scott bolted for Kira and drew her out of the path of a hurtling water balloon. The balloon slammed into Lydia's car splattering green paint against the windshield. Scott set Kira down softly on her feet, touching her cheek fondly.
"You, OK?" He asked.
Kira's face was flushed, "It just wasn't the kind of greeting I was expecting." Scott smirked and pecked her lips in apology.
Lydia made a small indignant noise as she wiped a speck of paint from her forehead.
She pointed at her windshield blindly, "You boys are cleaning this up." she growled as she strode toward the house.
Scott sneered "You boys are cleaning this up." he repeated in a high mocking voice. Kira snickered beside him.
Stiles shot Scott a grin and held up his hands backing away in an innocent fashion. "Actually, I just remembered I have this paper to finish." He chuckled as he back away toward the house.
"Stiles!" Scott complained.
"Remind me who set the traps, again?" Stiles asked. Scott scowled and brought up his tennis ball launcher and popped a few shots in his direction. Stiles easily dodged them as he made his way up the front steps and through the screen door.
Kira leaned in and kissed Scott on the cheek. "At least he's smiling again." She said thoughtfully. Scott watched after his best friend before nodding in agreement. "I'll go get the hose. We need to get this off before it starts to dry." She offered.
Scott jerked his head around, "No!" Kira lifted her eyebrow at him, "No. It's OK. I'll get the hose. You stay on the driveway." He insisted.
"There's more traps out there, isn't there?"
Scott rocked back on his heels and made a noncommittal sound before deciding silence was the best option. He turned his back to her and started carefully navigating his way toward the garden hose.