She remembered who Stiles was, unfortunately.

He was the first person she grew a strong connection with after she was transformed back into a human, her anchor. He promised to never leave her behind, ever, and he solidified that statement with a brush of soft lips against her forehead. Stiles took her hand in his when no one else would and told her that everything was going to be okay. He cuddled with her every night, so much that Malia almost couldn't get proper sleep without it. They never said they loved each other, but she thought about it a lot and sometimes when she looked into his eyes, she thought he might love her too. No matter how absolutely infuriating he could be, ranting all day about nerd movies and being an asshole like it was his job, Malia couldn't help but love him.

Being with Stiles was comforting. He had faith in her...hope. She doesn't think she would've made it to senior year without him (or Lydia's notes). She hasn't had sex with anyone else, but it was always great with Stiles. He was tentative with her, as if she, a werecoyote, would break into a million pieces. He used to keep his lips pressed against her neck and intertwine their fingers as he entered her, which was such an amazing feeling, being completely enveloped with another human, touching in every way possible. It's what she lacked for so many years and then it just hit her all at once with Stiles.

She didn't tell Lydia that when they were trying to get him back.

She paced for hours on end the night it all happened, back in her coyote den bedroom with her father fast asleep a few doors away. Her anchor was back, but he wasn't hers anymore. He didn't look at her for longer than a couple of seconds upon his return and somehow it would've felt better if he just hadn't looked at her at all. He didn't pull her into a hug or give any clue as to how grateful he was that she risked her life to save him. No, he ran to Lydia instead. And wasn't that just a new development? It sucked, for lack of better words.

She was never that close to Lydia anyway for her to feel any type of regret for going after her ex, so Malia didn't put that against her. Stiles, however, she wanted to kill. He broke up with her because she supported and loved him no matter what he did. She told him that she would never leave him no matter what horrible crimes he committed and she followed through with those words. She was supposed to be his, no matter what. She remembered sitting in that car after he left her, wondering what she did wrong and what she could say to make him come back, but the words never came out of her mouth. She was speechless and he didn't care. And now he's in love with Lydia Martin, has been in love with her even while they were in an exclusive relationship.

So, unfortunately, she remembers Stiles Stilinski and his kisses that meant nothing and his words that meant even less.

Late night television, popcorn, and liters of soda is how she spent her nights alone as they were finishing the senior year - well, her packmates were finishing the year - she still had to make up one stupid calculus course in summer school. Life was out to get her, that much she was sure of. She missed Kira dearly, she missed having a best friend to spill all of her inner secrets to, someone to be there by her side after one single text and love her unconditionally. Kira was a warm glow of sunshine on Malia's coldest days and she was ripped away from her, from the real world and everything that her best friend loved - like Scott. Malia had more grief within her, and with nowhere to place it, she remained reclusive. She heavily ignored the existence of Stiles, pleased to notice that she wasn't losing control of herself any longer, and shortened her interaction with Lydia to modest greetings in the school hallways and waving goodbye from across the parking lot.

From a respectable distance, Scott watched her bury her emotions deep, deep down, almost as low as her affection for Peter Hale, low into an abyss that no one could ever dig up again. She supposed something between her and Scott also changed since they all collectively remembered Stiles. Nowadays, he couldn't seem to stop asking if she were okay, or if she needed to talk, calling her regularly and making himself available to her on a whim. Of course, she denied his tempting advances for a growing kinship with her. Too caught up in her own misery, she refused to drag Scott into her problems. She thinks that just made him try harder.

She heard him before she saw him, his footsteps on her front porch that were so careful, and his low voice asking her father permission to see her. She kept her head down and fiddled with her fingers as his footsteps became closer and closer. For one second, she had a childish thought of hiding herself under her bed so they wouldn't have to talk about anything, but then she realized they're both creatures capable of hearing heartbeats and slumped against her headboard instead.

Her door creaked open seconds later.

She turned her head to see him. He stood beside her door in his usual attire, his hoodie sweatshirt, and blue jeans, looking every bit like he was on a mission. She took a strange comfort in his scent wafting in the air, his alpha presence that he wore strongly when it was needed. He gave her small, assuring smile before closing the door behind him and stepping further inside.

"Malia," He started. She knew what that tone meant. "You haven't talked to them in weeks. You can't...you can't ignore them forever." She was surprised he had skipped to the point so quickly, she was at least expecting a few awkward minutes of him beating around the bush, asking about the weather in that usual Scott McCall manner. Her eyebrows lifted high into her hairline as she took a moment to process his words.

"Is that what you drove all the way out here to talk about?" She asked with an incredulous scoff. His gaze on her didn't ease and his aura never lets up, no, he was serious. He wanted her to confide in him as she would a best friend and he wanted to help console her, she could see it in his eyes.

"You act like you have no one to talk to. You can talk to me, always, about anything - even this." He promised. Malia wasn't too convinced.

"There's nothing to talk about. We all know what happened." She shrugged coolly. He walked until he was within reaching distance of her, leaning on the right edge of her queen sized mattress.

"Yeah, but...everyone needs an outlet sometimes. And since you and Lydia aren't speaking anymore, I just thought that I could -"

"That you could what? Get me to act like nothing happened? Talk to them again? Play nice, maybe? I'm through playing nice for the benefit of people who obviously don't care about me." She said.

"Lydia cares about you. Stiles cares about you. I care about you. I'm just saying...if you want to talk about it, you can talk to me." He offered once again.

"Want me to talk about it? You want me to talk about how Stiles screwed me over? How he...made me feel so special to him and then said he was in love with Lydia the entire time? Or how about how every time I walk through those school hallways and see them holding hands it makes me sick? Is that what you want me to talk about, your stupid best friend and how he treats me like I'm the one that was taken by the Ghost Riders? Is that it, Scott? Because if I talk about it, I'm going to lash out," her eyes flashed a brilliant blue, shining brighter through the trapped tears, "I'm gonna hurt someone. I hate feeling like this, Scott! And I can't control it...I can't," her gaze moved from Scott's as she felt the first tear run down her cheek.

Wasting no time, he crawled into her bed and pulled her into his arms. She shifted her body so that she could hide her tear-streaked face into his dark hoodie and his arms tightened around her body as she made embarrassing sniffles on him. He allowed her to drown him in her tears that were seldom ever seen. He felt like she deserved to break down after being so incredibly strong for the pack for so long.

Her hands gripped his sides, clenching and grasping onto him in a way that would most likely hurt a human. His heartbeat beside her ear beat steady, it had a comforting rhythm that she focused her attention on. Being in Scott's arms gave her a flourishing feeling of opulence like she's never felt before, but it also made her dizzy, gave her stomach knots.

"You know...Stiles is doing his own thing," he spoke after a solid five minutes of caressing her head on his chest, "Maybe you should do your own thing, too."

It was a nice way of putting things, innocent like. Nothing sounded better to her than doing her own thing, moving on, waving the memories of Stiles away as she would if she were still reliant on her coyote instincts. But he was her first love, her first everything, and she couldn't erase that as easily as he did.

"I hate him, Scott. I do, I hate him. I hate him." She choked out. She repeated the phrase through clenched teeth hoping it would become true the more she stated it, hoping it would stop her tears. Scott pulled her impossibly closer and rested his chin on top of her head whispering soothing words that she couldn't quite understand behind her cries of hate. She was grateful that he didn't correct her, didn't defend his best friend, but instead let her feel everything she needed to feel. Her emotions were valid and Scott didn't want her to feel worse than she already did by being on everyone's side.

"I know...it's okay, you're gonna be okay," he moved his hands from her back, up to her shoulders, then her face. She lifted herself from his chest and stared up at him as his hands gripped her face. He smiled softly. She nodded back with a small smile of her own.

There was that dizzy feeling again, starting in her head and ending in her stomach. Her dewy cheeks heated with what she could only guess was embarrassment, but Scott gave no indication that he noticed it, or even cared. She realized then how this would look to her father if he so happened to burst through the door to announce dinner. Her, almost in the lap of Scott McCall, holding onto his torso as he held her face in his hands. He used his thumbs to rub the tears from her face.

"Thanks," she whispered.

"Anytime," he replied.

She subconsciously leaned into his touch and smiled warmly. Tough as she was, she still loved being cared for as a normal human would. Scott made her feel soft and cared for, protected. Her forehead was met by his lips and the feeling of his skin of hers lingered long thereafter, as nearly thirty minutes passed and he was cradling her back in his arms and talking about random things to keep her mind off of her own issues.

"The campus is great and the people seem friendly." He muttered. Malia adjusted herself on him so that they were lying side by side, his arm around her shoulders and her arm around his torso.

"But?"

"But, we're all gonna be separated." He explained with a childish pout. She smiled brightly.

"No more Liam and Hayden? Can't be that bad." Scott knew which couple she really meant by that.

"What about me and you? You'll be deprived of my awesome cuddling skills." He smirked. She rolled her eyes at that despite the smile still edging on her lips.

"Don't get cocky, I've had better," she unraveled herself from his body out of spite and rolled to the other side of the bed. He laughed, following after her with open arms.

"Seriously unlikely, get back here," he grabbed her by the waist and pulled her back into him. She scoffed, trying to wiggle herself free of him.

"You are so not stronger than me, don't test me," she successfully pulled out of his grip and pushed him down to her pillows. Before he could move, she grabbed his wrists and pinned them, eyes glowing blue. He grunted trying to move his wrists out of her clutch and failing. To keep her grip stable, she lifted one leg across his stomach and leaned into him.

"Okay, you got me with your freakishly strong werecoyote powers. Now what?"

"Well, if we were in the wild this is usually the part where I would rip you limb from limb and eat you." She explained to the wide-eyed boy below her.

"How about we skip that part?" He asked, hopeful. Malia growled playfully, elongating her fangs down at him, then retracting them and laughing instead. As she took a moment to laugh at Scott's expression, he used the distraction to break free of her hold and quickly flip them around. She hit her pillows with a gasp and reached up to push him off, but his hand grabbed both of her wrists and pinned them above her head. It was foolish to her how she was getting both of her wrists pinned down with one of Scott's hands. Malia huffed. Scott's eyes flashed red.

"Fine, you caught me off-guard," she whispered, transfixed by the glow of his eyes. "Pure luck." She sighs, moving to wiggle herself free and his fingertips trailed against her stomach before gripping her hips, pushing her back into the mattress. Her eyes widen and for one fleeting second, she imagines herself grinding against him, his hands slipping under her t-shirt. She'd never truly dug so deep into her thoughts about Scott that she reached any fantasies involving them, though she wouldn't deny that he's insanely attractive. She enjoyed his presence and his excessive cuddling, but was there a line that they'd both created and destroyed?

Scott's breathing pattern becomes broken and his cheeks redden as if reading her mind. Their pheromone scents were mixing in an intoxicating way that was just undeniable. He is incredibly turned on. "Malia...claws," he rasped, removing his hand from her wrists. Confused, she brought her arms back to level, surprised to see that her claws were extended. She retracted them with a blush.

"Of course I'll miss you when you start college," she began, very aware of his hand that still rests on her hip, "But you're not getting rid of me that easily, Scott. I'm going to bug you, like, all the time. I'm not gonna lose you because you're a few miles away." She used her hands on either side of the bed to push her body upright. Scott still remained between her legs. His eyes returned to a deep, smooth brown and he smiled.

"And what are your plans?" He asked, moving from between her to the side of her. She sighed in relief as he did so. She didn't want to do anything that would compromise their friendship...or the friendships around them.

"I'm gonna finish summer school, get my diploma, then take a year or two off."

"Did you look into colleges yet?"

"I mean, a little bit, but I want to focus more on myself before I pick a college."

He smiled at her, which turned her into a flustered mess. Flustered wasn't a Malia thing, but apparently, Scott could bring that out of her. He reached towards her face, moving a stray piece of hair from her face and smoothing it behind her ear. Her stomach was growing knots again, twisting and tearing apart her insides. She knew he could hear her increasing heartbeat because she could hear his. Her eyes dropped from his eyes to his lips.

"I think I -"

"You should go."

"Yeah."

He jumped from the bed like it was hot lava and raced to the door, already gripping the doorknob. He turned to her one last time and bit his lip.

"Call me, you know, if you wanna...talk or something." He blushed ferociously. Malia nodded, still a bit stunned at the feelings inside of her. He nodded and sped out of her room before she could so much as wave goodbye.

She doesn't realize that her heart is beating wildly until she lies back down and clutches her chest. There had been a line and she was afraid that she and Scott were teetering dangerously over it.