Summary: revenge taste pretty good. Jackson wants Lydia back. Too bad he can't have her. Stydia undertones. Allisaac if you squint.
She looked gorgeous, really she did. She was dressed in tight, black dress. It was strapless on the left, but the right shoulder had an ornate short sleeve, it was black and white and sort of like a tissue flower, slightly large in size but not overpowering. She paired it with tall silver heels. The dress clung to her curves, highlighting just how beautiful she really was. Her lips were red, and her eyes were smokey. Her hair was in loose red curls, he observes.
Oh, he means strawberry blonde of course. Sometimes he just forgets. Jackson was always forgetting. It took him an entire month to notice a hair cut once, but hey. He never promise to be attentive... Or faithful for that matter. So maybe she shouldn't have been surprised he cheated on her with some Florida girl.
Anyways, she was dressed so beautifully for a party, one of the lacrosse parties. She sat down on one of the plush white couches, as the slew of pretty people began to filter in. Conversations were being held, laughter was filling the room, and sluts dragging boys by the hand were leaving the room. It was your typical lacrosse party- and that was why Lydia was waiting for Stiles, Scott, and Allison. It really was too bad Jackson got there first.
He smoothly sat beside her on the couch, and smiled at her. She rolled her eyes and turned away, willing her friends to show up. She tapped a heeled foot, counting in her head to distract herself.
"You look beautiful tonight, Lyds," he whispered, his lips grazing her ear in a way that used to give Lydia goosebumps. Used to. She bristled slightly, but then made a decision. She'd always been an A+ game player, why should that change?
"Thank you, Jackson. You look," she looked him over, and nodded "like you always do,"
He laughed as if she was the funniest person in the world, and let his hand graze her shoulder. "You're hilarious, Lydia!"
She responded with a fake laugh, and an even faker smile.
"So, Lydia. I think it's time we forget this whole mess that went on between us. I love you, Lydia, and I never meant to hurt you."
Lydia nodded, and tilted her head. As if she was considering Jackson's little offer of forgiveness. Lydia knew he was being like this because she looked hot. Or because Florida had gone back home. Or because he was feeling a little kinky.
He placed a hand on her leg, just as a silence was coming over the room.
"And if you want, you could always come over tonight," his hand slid a higher, "you know where I live," higher "you still have my key somewhere in that house of yours," higher. "And we have a lot to catch up on," she placed a hand on top of his, and leaned in seductively.
"If you're looking to cop a feel, you're going to need to catch a flight to Florida. I'm not interested," she smiled like a girl in an advertisement, enticing and bold, and removed his hand. Jackson's jaw went slack. Lydia hadn't realized the room had gotten so quiet. "And your key left my house a long time ago." Everyone began to giggle, and Jackson quickly stood up- he had a little friend he needed to relieve after he felt Lydia up.
She noticed Scott and Allison had arrived just in time for the show, but Stiles wasn't there yet. Too bad, really, because he sure would've enjoyed it. Scott and Allison were smiling and laughing at the crazy event that had unfolded, and Isaac came over to flirt with Allison, who loved 'the attention' from him. Oh, but she didn't like him at all.
Stiles came in a few minutes later, and Lydia ran over to hug him(he responded by lifting her off her feet and spinning her around) and tell him the story of Jackson- who had seen the hug and was sulking in the corner. Stiles eyes widened at every sentence, and by the time the story was over, he hugged Lydia again. She smiled broadly, and Stiles made some incredibly awkward eye contact with Jackson- some glaring, harsh, cruel, demeaning, straight vengeful eye contact.
Lydia pulled Stiles by the hand onto the dance floor, not caring what Jackson- or anyone for that matter- thought of her anymore. She was a brand new girl. She didn't need any boy as a crutch.
Jackson had gotten exactly what he deserved.
Finished! I wrote this at 2 AM so sorry. Really I'm not.