Scott had been surprised when she asked him where to find Derek. Thankfully, Scott seemed to have been pretty rattled about what had happened at the police station the night after her party (the news said that kid Matt from school had shot six police officers and then committed suicide by drowning himself afterward), so she'd been able to ask him where to find the older guy without much trouble. She should be at school, but in light of all of the unbelievable supernatural events going on around her, school seemed a little trivial. Her parents would argue that Yale wouldn't accept her if her grades fell, but she wasn't worried about that either. She would get into Yale, she would win her Field's Medal, but right now she had more important issues at hand.

Pushing through the doors which creaked much louder than she would have liked, she winced at the sound and knew it was pointless to sneak around any longer. Still, she walked quietly, her heart beating so strongly she imagined she could hear it. Ringing her hands together, Lydia took a deep breath in an attempt to calm herself. She could do this; she had to do this. She no longer had a choice. Knowing that she, Lydia Martin, should not be afraid of Peter Hale, she still was. If he was just a man, then she would tell him to kiss her ass, but he wasn't just a man. He was... he was a werewolf. And an alpha at that. The truth was still so surreal and science fiction, she felt she was still having dreams, but this was reality. And a harsh reality at that.

"Tell me one reason I shouldn't kill you right now."

Halting in her tracks, her heart skipping a beat in its already staccato tempo, her green eyes widened and she sucked in a breath. Turning to face Derek, she tried to smile but her nervousness was obvious.

"Derek..."

"Explain, or you die," he replied simply, his blue eyes boring into her like ice as he glared at her. She saw the hatred there, a betrayal he felt that she didn't quite understand, and she doubted herself for a moment. Again, she thought she couldn't do this (what was Peter thinking anyway? Derek probably thought she was insane), but she must. Taking a deep breath, she flashed Derek her kindest smile, allowing her big green eyes to swell into the sweetest, most innocent look she could give him.

"I heard about what happened at the police station - that you were there - and I was just trying to find you to see if you were okay," she admitted. It wasn't a lie, she had heard about what Matt had done, and she was trying to find him. So she knew her heartbeat wouldn't give her away as lying since she technically wasn't. Plus, she'd rehearsed her reasons for coming here a million times before arriving, so she was prepared. She had known he would be skeptical.

"What about Stiles?" Derek asked suddenly, his eyebrows raising as he crossed his arms over his massive chest.

"What... about Stiles?" she asked, confusedly.

"He was there too, and he's in love with you, and he's actually your friend, so I don't see why you would come here worrying about me since you basically almost got me killed the other night," he pointed out, scowling in his usual way. This she hadn't prepared for. He was right, Derek wasn't her friend and she hadn't even talked to him before today. She supposed it did seem out of character.

"Well, Stiles is... he's fine," she finished, with a huff. "And I have more to apologize to you for than him, so well... he's not the point." She was irritated now. She was a popular girl who had no problem talking with boys, but Derek was different. He was so obviously a man, and he was sure of himself. Even boys like Jackson were ultimately just teenagers who thought too highly of themselves and could easily be flattered into submission. Derek was a different story altogether.

"I suppose you do," Derek agreed, not moving as he waited. He waited for this apology she'd said she owed him, and she knew it.

Planting her hands on her hips, she pursed her lips and rolled her eyes. She hated apologizing when someone was expecting an apology. It felt so insincere. "I'm sorry... about the other night after my party."

"About that..." Derek raised a finger, tapping his scruffy lips and beginning to pace as she watched him with wide eyes, confused about how he was reacting to all of this. "You still haven't quite explained why I shouldn't kill you right now for that. Do you even realize what you've done? Who you've resurrected?"

Oh, did she ever know. Inwardly, she screamed for help, for saving from Peter that she would never have.

"Haven't you figured it out yet, Derek?" she asked, exasperatedly, catching him off guard for once. "Haven't you asked yourself how I drug you all the way out to your old house? You aren't exactly light, you know, and I'm a seventeen year old girl." She fixed him with a critical look as he stared dumbly at her. Obviously he hadn't taken that into account.

"I'm not... that heavy. It's all muscle," he argued, childishly. Lydia smiled, knowing she was softening him up whether he liked it or not.

"Well, your body fat index must be pretty low 'cause that was some pretty heavy muscle," she replied, raising an eyebrow. He sniffed precociously and glared down his nose at her as he crossed his arms over his broad chest once more.

"That still doesn't explain why I shouldn't tear out your throat with my teeth."

Lydia smiled, shifting her weight and gesturing with one hand as she explained. "Firstly, you can't kill me, and secondly, you should have figured out by now that I wasn't exactly 'myself' the other night. Peter... possessed me." The words broke as they left her tongue, as if she wasn't supposed to say them, and she looked down and away from him. It was true, Peter had possessed her. He had also ordered her to be completely honest with Derek because he knew his nephew would be able to tell she was lying.

Derek's face was still skeptical, so she continued hurriedly, wanting to get the words out since she'd realized the truth herself. Who else could she tell? Who else would believe her other than Derek? He had been there, he had seen Peter come back. "I've been having dreams, visions of him. He's the one who made me drug everyone, made me blow the wolfsbane powder in your face. I don't remember anything after the first ten minutes or so of my party. Everything is a blur after that. I woke up in that dirty old house of yours, and I've been in a cloud since then."

There was a silence between them as Derek debated what she'd just told him. He uncrossed his arms and took a deep breath, making his white wife-beater swell as his chest rose and fell. Lydia glanced away as he turned to look at her and then slowly looked back at him as if she'd been staring off into space since she'd finished talking.

"We're still not even just because you were possessed or whatever," he concluded finally, raising his eyebrows and climbing up into the broken down old bus that had become his home. Lydia's mouth dropped open in exasperation, and she flitted to follow him into the smelly old bus.

"What can I do to make it up to you?" she asked, honestly wanting to be even with him once again. Her want to even the score between them was sincere, despite what Peter wanted from her. She felt horrible for the actions he had made her do, and she would do anything to make them right.

"For one, you could get your best friend off my back."

"Allison? Wait... why?"

Derek drew in a deep breath and turned to face her, propping himself on the ceiling-to-floor length metal poles on each side of the aisle. "She seems to think her mother's death is my fault. Of course the Argents would blame me for that bitch being unable to handle being a werewolf, but that's not my problem. What is my problem is your little friend wanting to shoot a silver arrow through my heart."

Lydia cocked her head questioningly and pursed her lips in confusion. She hadn't even known Allison's mother was dead. She really was a horrible friend. Maybe that was what Mrs. Argent had been wanting to talk to Allison about the other night before her party...

"Okay," she said simply.

"Okay?" Derek echoed.

"Okay, I'll do it." Reaching out, she offered him her hand to shake to promise she would help him. "And when she's off your back, we'll be even."

Derek raised an eyebrow and ground his teeth together so his jaw tightened, but he shook her hand anyway. "Then we'll be even."