So someone please tell me if the dialogue is hard to understand when I don't space it out... I'll gladly change it... my OCD just likes this way better... and thank you all for being supportive :)
"One double shot espresso for the lady, and a tall decaf, hold the sugar for her adorable boyfriend." The tall, gorgeous red head stated with energy as she placed the steaming drinks onto the shiny black table in the low light cafe. Allison smiled up at the woman, she and Stiles had been coming to the small coffee shop for about a month now and the woman in her early thirties, Jo, refused to believe that they weren't dating. "No one comes for coffee every other afternoon, as close as you two seem, and aren't together." She challenged the teens on one occasion. Stiles shrugged it off too, it was nice to be linked to someone else, even if Allison was his best friends ex girlfriend and he had never felt anything but friendship towards the werewolf hunter slash classmate. It was nice that someone didn't know him as the love sick puppy with tags to be returned to Lydia Martin. In the coffee shop, which Stiles had finally figured out the name of, Cup of Jo's, he and Allison didn't have to be anything more than themselves. Allison didn't have to redeem herself or feel apologetic every other second, like she would have if this was Scott or even Lydia sitting across from her; and Stiles didn't have to act like he knew all the answers, that he was handling everything just fine. Together, the teens were just that, teens. Jo, the fiery red head who doubled as owner and waitress was kind to them, calling them her favorite customers, and always gave them their privacy, after writing out their destiny as being the perfect couple.
Allison laughed again, something she rarely did, and something only Stiles seemed to experience. "She's crazy, huh?" Stiles nodded while taking a small sip of the steaming cup. He closed his eyes in satisfaction as the hot liquid slid down his throat. He was addicted. Allison mimicked him, wrapping her pale hands around the tiny glass cup. Despite the hot sun and beginning of summer, Allison kept her glowing, pasty color. Stiles smirked, and Allison looked at him with wide eyes. "Really? Again?" She asked, without having to be told a word, before taking the napkin under the glass and wiping at her upper lip. Stiles laughed quietly as she glared at him. "So, what's new? How was dinner with your father the other night? My dad wants to go there, is it any good?" Allison questioned folding the used napkin back up and placing it under the tiny white plate that accompanied the matching cup. Stiles frowned then, Allison realizing that it wasn't the highlight of his week, but what was lately? "It seems to be a great place for those sort of daddy kid dates doesn't it?" He muttered before taking another sip of his take out cup. "What happened?" Allison asked, leaning over the table slightly. "Nothing, nothing." He waved her off, "Just.. Lydia was there with her dad, and Jackson." He shrugged. "Oh" Allison frowned, her brown eyes swelling with sympathy. It was nice, after seeing the cold, distance hard pebbles that once completed her look, the warm brown hues of her eyes were always welcomed, but not needed. "It's fine." He shrugged. "But I made the decision. I'm getting over Lydia Martin if it is the last thing I do." Allison stared at her friend for a moment, even in the dark lighting it was easy to see how overcome he was, he loved Lydia and Allison was there to witness his heart shattering moment of realization along with the rest of his normal circle. It sucked, but this was a good thing. "Well I think that is a great idea, Stiles." The curly brunette smiled encouragingly at him. "Yeah?" Stiles mumbled weakly, "Because Scott didn't even believe me." Stiles' eyes widened. "Shit! Allison, I'm sorry, I know he's on the list of things not to discuss-" "It's fine, Stiles, really." But Allison didn't look up at him. "How.. How is he?" She asked after a moment of silence, bringing the cup back to her lips, trying to pass as indifferent. Stiles smiled at her, the corners of his lips turning up. "He's still Scott." The sixteen year old shrugged. "There is something going on though, I can feel it." His hands left the table and came to land in fists on his thighs. "Hey, Allison?" "No." Allison shook her head. He blinked at her. "Werewolves don't exist, remember? I don't want to hear about any of this." She had her hands held up in front of her, as if to protect her from the information she didn't want to know. Her voice had that timid whisper to it again, one that Stiles missed. She really was turning back into her old self. But it wasn't fair of him to ask, he was the one to tell Scott just a day ago not to ask her himself about what she and her father may or may not know. He knew she was trying desperately to get back to who she was, and Stiles didn't want to ruin that anymore than he wanted to ruin his own feeble sanity. If he could, he would stay ignorant, much like he had done for a few weeks.
It was nice, he wasn't going to lie, but it wasn't comforting. He hated not knowing what was going on, what could happen, almost as much as he hated actually being apart of it. Allison was stronger than him in that regard, she took her chances in bliss, he couldn't stay a sitting duck. He needed to help. Allison had come a long way in the short weeks of summer that she distanced herself. He felt honored that he was the only one she kept in contact with, but it also made Stiles feel guilty that he was keeping this from Scott. But Allison had begged, and he did like having a special place, just where he could be alone, or with Allison, where nothing else seemed to matter, it was like a time out and as long as they didn't talk about werwolves, or hunting, or Scott, everything was fine.
She saw it in his eyes, the gold turning over with a dark color, it was stormy and it didn't give Allison that warm feeling Stiles usually gave her. She wasn't going to ruin this, maybe in time, but not now. She was so close to actually liking herself again and the way Stiles' face changed told her everything she needed to know, it wasn't good and she wasn't going to be apart of it. It sounded selfish, not wanting to know about the impeding doom that was sure to be hovering over Beacon Hills, but not knowing was safer, in her own head. Not knowing kept her from lying to her father, who, though still kept his hardened shell, was growing mad with finding Gerard's body, with sticking to the code, with making Allison recite it over and over, so she would never go that dark again. Things were finally getting back to normal with them again despite his actions, and she missed her dad, her only family. She was not about to go ruin that with coveted information about werewolves, she wasn't ready.
After coffee Stiles made his way home, surprised to see his dad's car in the driveway. He shut the door to his jeep and made his way up the driveway, towards the front door. "Back here son!" The sheriff called to Stiles and he reverted his steps, heading towards the back gate. Stiles stopped for a second, remembering Lydia leaving through the same gate, the night he told her he needed time. She was so ready for a friendship, he saw it in her green eyes, the way she wanted to be around him, wanted to talk to him, confide in him, trust him. Stiles licked his lips and marched through the yard, slamming the gate in the process. Mr. Stilinski was standing in the middle of the yard, Stiles' lacrosse stick in one hand, the white ball in the other. "Dad, why are you home so early?" "It was slow, come on, we haven't practiced in a few days." Mr. Stilinski smiled at his son while Stiles walked over. "You sure everything is okay?" The teen asked, uncomfortably. "Yes, Stiles." Mr. Stilinski frowned, "stop worrying so much." The sheriff laughed and clapped his son on the back. "Sorry..." Stiles mumbled while moving to the far end of the yard.
It wasn't like Stiles meant to take everything his father said in two different ways. First for face value, and then for what it was really supposed to mean. He still felt terrible for costing his father the position of sheriff a few months back. It was all Stiles' fault and he figured staying out of trouble would help, for a little while. He was trying so hard to keep everything together, and it wasn't like the sheriff hadn't taken notice, he loved his son, and he thought that helping him with something like lacrosse, something he knew Stiles was struggling with, it would make him see that none of that mattered. But there was a large part of the sheriff that knew that it was something bigger, he had seen Stiles at his absolute worst, those panic attacks he used to have kept Mr. Stilinski awake for months, terrified that something would happen to Stiles, that he would lose him too.
"So, was Lydia waiting for you last night?" The sheriff asked while tossing the large ball to the ground, underhand. Stiles frowned while scooping it up in his net. "No." Stiles mumbled, his fingers tapping quickly on the smooth grip of the stick. "Oh." His father frowned. "She said she was going to.." "It's fine dad. I didn't want to see her anyway." He sighed while using a swift motion to fling the ball back at his father, who was holding a baseball glove. Stiles smiled to himself, his father never did get lacrosse, wished his son continued with baseball, 'a real sport'. "Now that doesn't sound like you?" The sheriff commented. Stiles scratched the back of his neck with his free hand. "Dad, I really don't wanna-" "I mean, she's a nice girl, comes from a good family. I know she doesn't have the same feelings for you, she's dating- what's his name?...David Whittemore's kid. But that doesn't mean she doesn't want you in her life, Stiles." Mr. Stilinski interrupted his son. Stiles stared at his dad, he really seemed concerned with this. Lydia was barley in his life before, and she comes to the house a few times and now he wants Stiles and her to be besties? Stiles sighed. "Maybe I don't want her in my life, dad." Stiles answered, his voice raw and his enthusiasm for practice gone. He tossed his stick to his father and walked up the back porch steps, hitting the landing where Lydia sat a little harder than the others and into the house. Mr. Stilinski watched his son go, sighing to himself.
Stiles slammed his bedroom door with some unnecessary force and raked his fingers through his trimmed hair. It wasn't like he could tell his dad exactly why he didn't want to be friends with Lydia, it wasn't like it was just because she didn't love him, that, that Stiles could handle. It was everything, using him, tormenting him, kissing his best friend, lying right to his face. It was the lying and Stiles knew it. He had always pegged Lydia Martin to be the most honest person he knew, brutally at times, but that was something he had always admired about the girl. She didn't care who she hurt, she remained true to herself, and Stiles supposed that was what she was doing, he just didn't think she'd lie about it, not to him anyway. Stiles meant nothing, why waste a lie? But this was a big one, and it wasn't like he wouldn't find out about it all.
He remembered the day Scott had told him, it was right after everything was sorted out with Jackson coming back to life, Scott's mom lied to the hospital staff, she blotted all necessary paperwork, and Jackson was free to go around, making out with his girlfriend and acting like he owned the world. Scott had finally met up with Derek, and he explained that Lydia needed to be monitored, that his uncle was back because he stole his way into the girls mind and brain washed her, they all though she was going crazy, yet they didn't know the half of it. When Stiles was finally delivered the information, he was already set on waiting for Lydia, already had talked himself out of thinking the worst of the situation. They were a high school relationship, how long could they possibly last? Especially with that much ego in one relationship. Stiles was positive about everything, until Scott broke through the haze he had wrapped himself around, a comfortable and shallow security blanket. She had lied, she knew everything, it wasn't in pieces, it was laid out right in front of her pretty green eyes, Peter had told her everything she needed to know, got her to do exactly what he wanted, and what that was? Stiles hadn't figured out yet, but it didn't matter, because she used him. She knew exactly what was going to happen and used all the guilt and adoration that Stiles harbored for her to get what she wanted, and what she wanted was Jackson. So, Stiles figured that night that he was done.
It started out small, walking in opposite directions of her in the halls, made sure not to pass by her block on his way home, and even went so far as to change his seat in chem that last week of classes, not that Harris cared much. But the thing was, no one noticed, except Lydia, and that night she came to his back door apologizing just to get it out there, just because it is what you do when someone is mad, Stiles knew that nothing would change his mind, that he couldn't be friends with her, not with loving her like he did, not with having this disdain in his heart for her, it just wasn't going to work and Stiles had to do something that he hadn't done in what felt like forever, save himself.