Thanks for my four reviewers. You guys rock. You seriously don't know how happy I get when I see at least one review by my story. It seriously makes me feel like maybe I'm not doing a bad job. You know unless the review's pretty much saying, "This sucks, you should stop writing."

But I haven't really gotten those, and I want to avoid those... But I do accept criticism and helpful tips. Seriously if there's something wrong in here (Which there always will be.) I want to know because it makes me a better writer.

Can it just be Monday already? Then next Monday. Then the Monday after that. Then after that. Then after that...

Gosh, I can't remember if I said this but: I don't own Teen Wolf. Gosh, I'm fifteen, still in high school, writing fanfiction. Honestly, do you think I'd be writing stories on here if I owned something wicked like Teen Wolf? Uh, no...

Unfortunately, lucky for you, I have four worn Derek leather jackets. Shh, don't tell him I took um...

1.) To missfervent:... *sigh* You are now my friend. Is that okay? Are we friends? Are we there? Have we reached that point? Lol. But you've reviewed BOTH my TeenWolf stories, so I would like to say a thank you for it. And here's a yummy leather jacket worn by Derek Hale. Yeah, he kicks ass.. Just sayin..

2.)To (Hehe, 2, to...)BW: thank you for that lovely review of yours. Couldn't have said it better than that. :D I hope this update is good? Here's your tasty leather jacket worn by Derek. Yummm..

3.) Moe: Thank you for the nice review. I enjoy complements. And I will kid you not, you get your very own virtual, (WHAT?) Leather jacket worn by Derek. Hehe.. you can smell his awesomeness...

4.) And to a Brenda20221: I know right? MONDAY! GET YOUR ASS HERE NOW! Lol, sorry for that horrid language... Yeah, I don't like Jackson that much. But I don't like the whole Allison and Jackson thing. Thank you for that kind review. I will write more, just because of your lovely reviews: And a leather jacket is handed to you, worn by Derek himself. Enjoy!

"No," Stiles shook his head. He was annoyed and he really didn't want to deal with Scott and his extra crap today. His father got another call in this morning, and he wasn't going to be home until late. "Scott I'm not getting fitted for a tux, if I'm not even going to this catastrophic, cliché filled prom..."

He loved his father. Especially when his mother died. He didn't really like to talk about it, his mother and how exactly she died. In fact, the only ones that knew about it was his family and Scott. That's really how the two became so close. Both relatives missing in the picture, so it's more of brotherly love than best friends. And it defiantly did cross his mind...

What if his father happened to die? What if he got shot? Most likely, he'd live with his crazed Aunt and Uncle. But every time the thought would sneak up in his mind, he'd have to distract himself in order to change the topic. Like, search the computer, or call Scott. Like he knew thinking about, would only scare him more... And it certainly did.

"Come on Stiles. This is our prom we're talking about. Not like... like a stupid, shitty, fake dance. Come on we only get one prom, and-" Scott continued, opening his locker and grabbing his backpack.

Stiles interrupted, "Ah, young- young, very young-"

"I'm older than you Stiles..." Scott interrupted matter- of- fact-ly. He placed his bag on his back, turning to face his buddy, and listened to here his kick ass excuses.

Stiles only glared at him, "Okay, slightly older than me... young grass hopper? You know what, just- just shut the hell up and just go with it, please? God..." He shook his head, "We don't have one prom. Hence, we're Juniors, meaning this is our Junior Prom. Meaning, young grass hopper, that we get another when I pass, and move onto being a Senior. While you just howl your abs off. Seriously, how much do you work out?" He asked out of curiosity.

Scott rolled his eyes and shut his locker. "Stiles, seriously. Ask someone. We need to get out tuxes fitted if we wanna go."

Stiles' head dropped backwards. His hands found his face and he groaned loudly. "I really don't want to go, Scott." He faced Scott clearer, "And FYI, I can't just go up to a random girl and ask her to prom. It's... it's like when Batman defeated the Joker: he didn't just ask, 'Sup, Joker. Let's cut to the chase: You're evil, I'm good. I'm going to kill you, and you're going to like it,'" he shrugged, "It's not like it's that simple."

"Yeah, but eventually, Batman killed the Joker and all was well." Scott smirked.

"Yeah- but it took like, 80 tries. Scott, I don't want to embarrass myself 80 times," his hands found Scott's biceps. He shook him, trying to get it clear in his head. "I do not want to go."

Scott shook his head, "Just ask Lydia. She and Jackson broke up, and," he shrugged, "Come on- who would she go with?"

Stiles looked him dead in the eye. His face was serious, "Scott," he took a step towards him, "she's the most popular girl in school. Why- why the hell would she go with me? Me? Of all people, and there's a ton of guys on the lacrosse team. And I'm sure as hell half of them want to get in her pants."

Scott only sighed, "Come on Stiles. Can't you just... I don't know grow confidence and just ask her? How bad can it be?"

"I don't know Scott," he sighed, "It's just... I just don't want to feel rejection. I don't want to feel like I lost another part of my life and for what? A question? A question regarding dancing in a monkey suite? A monkey suite that would cost me over 1,000 dollars might I mention?"

"Stiles, the worst thing she can say is no."

"No- no, Lydia's vocabulary is," he chuckled, "Creative..." He ran his hand over his short hair. The prickly feeling tickled his shaky hand.

"Well, you better find some confidence because here she comes."

He began to panic, and turned around to face Lydia. She was walking towards them, only three yards away. "Hey Lydia," Scott called.

She turned her head, facing Scott and a nervous Stiles. "Can I help you?" She asked. The same disgusted expression like she always wore.

"Um... Stiles kinda wanted to ask you something." Scott pipped up.

She faced him, raising a brow. He coughed nervously. "Uh, hi." He waved, but stuck his hands deep in his pockets.

She grinned, "Hi?"

"Um... yeah well, I just wanted to..." he breathed our loudly, "You know ask- a-ask you if maybe you'd want to... possibly go to ... prom with me?" He asked hopeful. He felt uneasy every time she hesitated to speak. Anxious that maybe she'd say no.

She looked behind her shoulder, seeing Jackson talk to a girl by his locker. His smile told her enough. She turned back towards him and nodded, "Yeah," her voice cracked, "Yeah pick me up 6?" She asked.

He laughed under his breath. Was this happening? Is he going to the prom with Lydia Martin? "Y-yeah.. Yeah definitely." He smirked. She smiled and turned her heels. Avoiding Jackson's contact, she pushed her hair behind her ear and walked away.

Stiles turned to Scott, and punched his arm playfully. "I'm going to the fucking prom with Lydia Martin." Scott laughed and nodded.

"Now..." he searched the halls, "If only I could find Allison..." However Stiles wasn't paying attention.

I'm going to prom. And with the girl of my dreams.

Bad chapter... I know... It wasn't very, eh, pizzazy enough for my liking.

I really hope you don't hate it enough to review...

I feel like I'm bribing you... If you review: I'll give you a beast (no pun intended) Teen Wolf poster...

I kinda wanna Teen Wold poster in my room now. Hmm. Where to put it?

That blue button's kinda lonely... Maybe you should make him feel better and poke him in a review?