polyvore: malia and lydia's outfits are posted on my polyvore (sarcasticfina)
word count: 9,196


-THREE-

"Why can't you come?"

Lydia stands at Malia's closet, picking through it indecisively. "Because it's a date."

"Hardly. He's an infant."

"He's two years younger than you." Lydia raises an eyebrow back at her. "It doesn't have to be love at first sight. Just, go out, have fun, don't think about it too much."

Malia grumbles, "Said the girl who's been standing in my closet for almost an hour."

"There's so much plaid in here I think I'm getting hives." With a sigh, Lydia plucks a dark red top out and holds it in front of her, scrutinizing its shape and color. "This is cute," she decides. "You don't want to dress up too much. It's a concert. But you want to stand out and wear something you wouldn't usually wear at school."

Malia sits in her underwear on her desk chair, her hair dripping from a recent shower. "You know I'm not interested in this guy, right? Nothing's going to happen."

"It's not just about that. It's about getting out there. Other people will be at the concert; maybe you meet someone, maybe you don't. The point is that you're not sitting around in your room, moping."

"I'm not moping." She frowns. "And we haven't even talked about what's going to happen tomorrow. I spent a whole week avoiding Scott and now I have to go to a movie with him."

"And dinner." Distracted, Lydia makes her way to Malia's dresser, digging around the drawers for a nice pair of black jeans. "Anyway, you won't be alone. Stiles and I will be there, too."

"Still…" Malia sighs. "I'm supposed to work on a history project this weekend. I'm partnered with Rebecca."

"Seriously?" Lydia looks up, her brows hiked. "Has she said anything?"

"About what?"

"About Scott." She stares at her in a 'duh' fashion. "She hasn't asked you for any tips or anything. I mean, you're one of his best friends. She didn't try to get anything out of you?"

"No. She just wanted to talk about the project." Malia shrugs. "I don't know what I would've said if she had… That'd be weird, right?"

"Depends. You can always sabotage their relationship…"

"Lydia!"

She shrugs. "It's just an option… Anyway, you'd never do that. You'd probably talk Scott up so much she's willing to propose in the hallway."

"I would not."

Digging through her own jewelry, which she stopped at her house for specifically to help Malia get ready, Lydia scoffs. "You're Scott's number one fan."

"Am not."

"Honey…" Lydia looks over at her, both amused and kind. "He's your favorite person. It's okay. I was a little offended at first, but I get it."

"Feelings or not, we're just friends. I like Stiles, too!"

"Of course you do, but it's different with Scott. You light up when you talk about him. Which is why this last week has been especially sad… It's like a lightbulb's gone out."

Malia shrugs. "I miss him. And I feel bad that I made our friendship weird. I should be happy for him. Rebecca is really nice and he was pretty down after everything ended with Kira."

"He's been better lately." Lydia plays with a suede necklace absently. "Don't get me wrong, he was pretty upset after he and Kira broke up. She was, too. But, I think they're happier this way. They're still friends and things haven't been too weird. It was worse after Allison. They weren't ready yet. They were still too deep, you know?"

"He loved her."

"Yeah. She loved him, too." Lydia stares at her a moment and sighs. "Look, I can't tell you how Scott feels or what's going to happen next month or next year. But, I know that Scott cares about you. Maybe it's not in the way you want or maybe the timing just isn't right. I don't know. But, I know that you deserve to be happy. I'm not saying Liam Dunbar is the answer to that. Hardly. But, it's one night. Of music and fun and someone to help take your mind off things."

Malia nods slowly. "Okay."

Lydia smiles. "Okay." She stands then. "Here, get dressed and then I can do your hair."

With an indulgent smile, she leaves her chair and walks to her bed, where her outfit is laid out in front of her. It's a far cry from the comfy clothes she usually wears, but it's not completely beyond her realm of comfort. She has no idea if tonight will be fun or a total bust, but she's willing to see it through either way.


Malia honks, idling in front of Liam's house, fiddling with the radio as she waits. He hurries out the door, still pulling on his jacket, and strides down the hill to her car. He grins, a little nervous, as he climbs into the passenger seat.

"Hey."

"Hi." She puts the car in 'drive' and pulls away from the curb. "Do you have a curfew or anything? The show goes until a little after ten, so…"

"I have to be back by around 11:30. You?"

She shrugs. "It's Friday, so my dad doesn't expect me home until midnight."

"Cool." He nods, tapping his fingers against his leg. "So, uh, you like Killer Coyote?"

"Yeah, they're good. They had a show last summer. I went with a few friends. How'd you hear about them?"

"My girlfriend—Uh, ex-girlfriend really liked them." He shifts around in his seat. "Sorry, we split up before Christmas. It was a long-distance thing. And I probably shouldn't be talking about an ex, but…"

"It's fine." She shrugs. "What was she like?"

"Hayden? She was… great. Strong and smart and just, always knew what she wanted." His gaze falls to the dashboard. "She kind of hated me in the beginning. I had to work pretty hard to get her to give me a chance."

Malia hums. "So, why'd she dump you?"

"The distance, mostly. Her and her sister moved pretty far away. It's different, you know? When you can't touch them or be there when they need you."

She nods. "Sounds rough."

"Yeah, it was. But, I'm over it."

At her unconvinced look, he grimaces.

"Okay, I'm getting over it."

Malia half-smiles. "I know the feeling."

"Yeah? You get dumped recently, too?"

Shaking her head, she pulls to a stop at a red light and drums her fingers against the steering wheel. "Not exactly. Just a poorly planned crush that blew up in my face…" Frowning, she says, "'Crush' is such a shitty word for it, too. I mean, it sounds like I'm some tween panting over Justin Bieber. But, in reality, I just confused a really important friendship for something else."

Liam nods. "I get that."

"Anyway, it's over and I just want to have fun tonight." She pulls through the newly green light and takes a breath. "So, I don't know about you, but I plan on dancing until my legs basically give out."

Liam grins. "Same."

"Great!"


The concert is being held in a warehouse that is definitely testing maximum capacity. While the makeshift bar is carding, a few people are passing around drinks to minors. Since she's driving, Malia sticks to water. She pushes her way deeper into the crowd for a better view of the stage. The warm-up band is unfamiliar but all right. Liam sticks close to her, head bobbing to the beat. She's a little more comfortable now, knowing that he's getting over someone, too. That maybe this 'date' is the same for him as it is to her, a way to let go of everything and move forward.

Malia loves dancing.

It gives her the same high that running does. She feels light and airy, adrenaline pumping, and every part of her body sparking with life and joy. She loses herself to the beat, her arms raised above her head as she twists and turns and forgets all about this last week of uncertainty and hurt and confusion. Neon lights flash across the crowd in every direction. For a moment, she's lost to color. Just a body, melding with everyone and everything around her. Sweat dots her skin and her hair feels too heavy against her neck, but she dances through it. Liam jumps along with her, laughing and cheering and letting loose.

As the warm up band finishes, Killer Coyote takes the stage and the cheering reaches a height that has her covering her eyes. Liam grins at her. He has a couple glow sticks around his neck and they give his face a neon glow. He's cute, she'll give him that. But young, too young. She remembers being a sophomore. It feels like an age ago. Back when Scott and Allison were still together and she was unwilling to admit that her feelings might be anything more than friendship. A part of her wishes she could still be that oblivious.

Malia throws herself back into the music. Because she knows these songs, she can sing along. It's much too loud to hear her voice, which only seems to meld with everyone else around her, but it feels good. Scream-singing at the top of her lungs. It's its own kind of release.

Last summer, she'd come to a concert just like this, packed in like sardines, with Scott, Lydia, Stiles, and Kira. She and Lydia had spent much of their time dancing with each other. But there were a few times, when the others retired from the floor to get a drink, that she and Scott found each other. Her arms around his neck and his hands on her waist, she could blame their closeness on the music and how it seemed to pull their bodies together, rocking along to a beat that felt like it was coiled around her bones, guiding her with unseen puppet strings. She should've known then. What the gravitational pull meant. Why her heart was pounding so hard. Why she lost her breath as their chests met in the middle and her gaze stuck on the slashes of neon paint across his cheeks, the ends leading to the corners of his lips. But when the song changed, they'd pulled away, laughed, and went in search of their friends.

She wonders if he remembers that dance the same way she does. If, for him, it was just innocent. Just two friends enjoying a song. But the more she thinks about it, the more she remembers the heat and the anticipation and the want for something so close but so far.

Giving her head a shake, she tries to bring herself back into focus, to staying in the moment. She looks ahead to the stage, where the lead singer of Killer Coyote is jumping up and down, her arm raised above her head. The flashing of lights almost hurts Malia's eyes; it makes the movement of the crowd seem strange and jarring. But it's all part of the experience. Her heart feels like it's absorbing the beat of the music, trying to pump in tune with everything around her. She loses her breath, but it only makes her laugh.

The stress of the last week seems to slough off, lost to the dance floor, eaten up by every move she makes. She closes her eyes and feels like she's floating away. A balloon left untethered, rising until it's lost in the rafters. But then a hand finds her elbow, tugging enough to catch her attention.

It's Liam, motioning to the bar and making a motion with his hand like he's getting something to drink.

Malia nods at him, watching as he cuts his way through the thick crowd. There's enough people waiting for service that he probably won't be back for a little while. She considers joining him, but then she catches sight of something. Someone. Brow furrowed, she stares through the moving arms and bodies, unsure if her imagination is playing tricks. But then she sees it again, a flash of brown skin and familiar black bands.

Malia moves, maneuvering around other dancers, searching for his face. But there are so many people that it feels impossible. A little lightheaded, she again wonders if maybe this is just a side-effect of what she'd been remembering earlier. As if in answer, the crowd parts enough for her to see him. In a black muscle tee, with blue and yellow bracelets on his wrists. He spots her, too. His gaze moving around her, like he's searching for someone, and then he's walking toward her. He has to duck and push his way to get to her, but he does.

She shakes her head when he's in front of her. "What are you doing here?" She has to yell to be heard, her voice easily lost to the noise around them.

"I wanted to talk to you!"

Her brow furrows. "Here?"

"I…" Scott shakes his head. "I couldn't wait."

Malia steps a little closer. "Did something happen? Are you okay?"

"Yeah." He nods. "I'm fine. I just…" He stares down at her and licks his lips. When he says something else, it's drowned out by a sudden increase in the music.

"What?"

Scott reaches for her hand, towing her through the crowd until they're on the outer edges. They stand by a wall, behind a pillar, it blocks out enough noise that they can actually hear each other.

"I said I missed you," he tells her.

Malia feels her chest constrict. "I was just busy… with the test and the extra credit project."

"I know. It just felt like… I don't know, like maybe you were pulling away."

Her gaze darts away and then back; a pit of guilt opens in her stomach. "I'm sorry. I didn't mean to. I was just—" Healing. "—overwhelmed."

"I get it. You're worried about school and you have Paris to look forward to. I…" He shakes his head. "I just keep thinking that we've only got a few months left and… Don't get me wrong, I'm excited to graduate, but I don't know what comes after that. Stiles is moving to DC. You're going to Paris."

"You have your coaching job and then Davis in the fall." She stares at him searchingly. "Where is all this coming from?"

"I— I just— I'm scared. I don't… I don't want to lose you to Paris."

Malia half-smiles, confused. "It's just for the summer. I'm coming back."

"I know. But, then I'll be in Davis and..." He sighs. "I'm saying this all wrong."

"Scott…" She reaches for him, a hand landing on his shoulder. "I'm not going anywhere. Not really. We can call and text and Facetime. You're not getting rid of me that easily."

He smiles faintly, but it fades quickly. "Do you remember the meteor shower?"

The change of topic throws her for a moment and her hands fall loose by her sides. "I… Yeah. In the lacrosse field… What about it?"

"I made a wish."

Malia nods. "For you mom and your dad, I remember."

"No, for something else. I should've said something back then. But, Kira and I just broke up. And I didn't know if you… I wasn't sure you could…" He clenches his teeth and shakes his head. "I just need you to tell me if this is what you want. If this— if Liam— if it makes you happy."

Malia stares at him, her brow furrowed. "I don't understand…"

Scott searches her eyes. He reaches for her, his hands on her wrists, and he draws her forward a few inches. The tips of his fingers skim the length of her arms, leaving a sheet of goosebumps in their wake. Malia swallows tightly as his touch teeters at her shoulders for a moment before they leave and she feels the warmth of his palms cupping her face, his thumbs gently caressing her cheeks.

Malia can't hear the music now. All she can hear is her heart pounding in her ears.

As he leans forward, her breath catches.

His forehead meets hers and her vision is swallowed by his eyes. His face glows from the neon of his bracelets. "I freaked out a little, when you told me you were going to Paris. I- I panicked and I thought I was losing you before we even had a chance to… I did something stupid. Or I let it happen. And I regret it. Because I feel like ever since it happened, I can feel you slipping through my fingers and I don't know what to do."

She hooks her fingers in the hinges of his elbows. "Scott—"

"I just, I feel like I hurt you. And that… That's the last thing I want to do."

Malia's eyes burn and her mouth trembles.

"Tell me what to do. Tell me how to make it better."

She turns her gaze up in an effort to keep her tears from falling. She wants to say it's simple— Love me. Want me. Be with me. But love isn't something a person just decides to do. She can't make him feel something he doesn't feel. She can't expect him to be with her just because her heart is broken. And she won't.

"You don't have to do anything." She shakes her head and takes his hands, pulling them from her face and rubbing her thumbs along his knuckles. Her chest feels tight and her smile hurts, so she pulls him forward and wraps her arms around his neck. "You're my best friend," she says, her mouth brushing his ear. "You always will be."

His arms ring her waist and squeeze. His hands splay across her back, fingers dug in, and she hates that a part of her loves it so much. Being this close, feeling this intensity between them. Because as close as they are, she feels like she's saying goodbye.

"Hey."

Malia startles and pulls back, turning to see Liam standing a few feet from them. He waves a couple bottles of water.

"I grabbed you one. I thought you might be thirsty, too."

"Yeah." She nods and steps toward him, taking the offered bottle. "Thanks."

"Sure." Liam looks from her to Scott and back.

"I should go," Scott says, his brow furrowed.

"The set's not even half over." Malia shakes her head. "You love Killer Coyote."

He half-smiles, but it's small and empty. "It's been a long week." He brushes his hand against her arm as he passes her. "We're still on for tomorrow?"

"Yeah, of course." She nods. "You still owe me fries and a milkshake."

He pauses for a moment and meets her eyes. "The biggest one they've got."

She grins. "Exactly."

Scott nods, his gaze falling, and then he leaves. She watches him make his way around the outskirts of the crowd, en route to the exit. Eventually, she feels Liam's stare boring into her. Busying herself taking a drink of her water, she finally sighs. "What?"

"I thought you said your crush wasn't returned."

Malia frowns. "It isn't."

"You're into Scott, aren't you?" His brow knits. "I don't know what kind of mixed signals you're getting, but generally, a guy doesn't track down a friend when he thinks she's on a date for a hug and some intimate whispering."

"He didn't whisper intimately." She rolls her eyes. "He was just upset because I've been avoiding him all week and he thought our friendship was on the rocks."

"Right…" Liam raises an eyebrow. "And that part about basically admitting he wanted to be with you after he broke up with Kira…?"

"Okay, a) eavesdrop much? And b) you must've misheard him. He never said that."

"Not in so many words, but he was definitely trying to…" Liam shakes his head. "Hey, I'm not here to judge. If you want to act out some weird star-crossed lovers stuff, go ahead. But as someone who seriously misses his girlfriend and can only wish we were as close as you and Scott just were, I think you might need to re-evaluate your idea of friendship. And also what, exactly, you think Scott feels for you."

Malia frowns. "You don't know him like I do."

"No, I don't. Which is why I'm not biased when I say that a guy doesn't do this—" He reaches out and cups her face in one hand, but the tenderness and the intimacy of how Scott had done it seems absent here. "—to a girl he doesn't want to kiss."

Malia looks down at his hand—or, more aptly, his wrist—and then raises an eyebrow at him. "In your dreams, Dunbar."

Rolling his eyes, Liam drops his hand. "Not me. I just making a point. Not that I don't appreciate the free concert. I thought we were having a pretty good time. But, I think we're both in a weird place. I'm trying to get over my ex and you're in denial about your thing with Scott, so."

"I'm not in denial." She grits her teeth and glares at him. "The music is loud and you clearly misheard and misread the situation."

"Or you're completely oblivious."

"What I am is done with this conversation. I don't know what you plan on doing, but I plan on spending the rest of my night dancing. And very much not thinking about everything you just said."

Moving past him, she marches back into the crowd. But her mood of earlier has long passed and she finds it hard to get back into the groove of things. Knocking back her water, she focuses on the music and tells herself that it's okay, nothing's changed. Come tomorrow, she, Scott, Stiles, and Lydia will be back to their usual selves. Friends and nothing more.


"Are you still mad at me?"

Malia glares at Liam, sitting across from her inside a McDonalds. "What makes you think that?"

"Well, you bought me a kid's meal…" He flicks the box his food came in. "Also, you keep glaring at me."

"I'm not glaring." She's definitely glaring. "And you should be happy. Your meal came with a toy. Be careful with it; they're a choking hazard."

Liam rolls his eyes. "You just don't like hearing the truth."

"Okay, you don't even know the truth!" She stabs a fry in his direction. "You're just making wild guesses based on one conversation."

He shrugs. "It was a pretty intimate conversation…"

"Scott doesn't have feelings for me." Her brows hike. "If he did, he wouldn't have been kissing Rebecca Hanks on Monday, all right?"

Liam pauses. "He has a girlfriend?"

"No. Maybe. I don't know. I just… I saw them. And I left. Because I panicked and I was literally about to pour my heart out to him like some kind of heartsick dork. And there he is, kissing someone else." She shakes her head. "If you know Scott, you know he doesn't do stuff like that lightly. He takes relationships seriously. Which means that while I was freaking out about the fact that I have a crush on him, he liked someone else. Which is… awesome. Good for him. But it sucks. For me, it sucks. So, having you tell me that he feels something different when I've just spent four days trying to get over him is not helping."

He stares at her a moment and then nods. "Okay."

"Okay." She sighs, her shoulders slumping, and dips a chicken nugget into some barbecue sauce.

"But, just for the record…" Liam leans forward, arms stacked together on top of the table. "You're right, I don't know Scott like you do. And I don't know what the whole thing with Rebecca was. I'm not defending it either. I'm just saying that what I saw tonight, between you two, that's big. And, I don't know, maybe you shouldn't give up just yet."

Malia stares at him a beat and shakes her head. "You can't fight for someone if you already lost them."

"Says who?"


The following morning, Malia wakes up to a headache. She isn't sure if it's a side-effect of all the loud music the night before or just general misery. Either way, she drags herself out of bed and shuffles into her kitchen, pouring herself a bowl of Froot Loops before slumping onto her couch and flicking through the channels for something to watch. She settles on a wild life documentary and takes her time fully waking up. Her eyes are a little fuzzy and her mouth tastes like cotton. She drinks the sugary milk from her bowl and contemplates a shower when her phone buzzes for attention.

Grabbing it off the couch cushion next to her, she thumbs it open and stares at Rebecca's name for a moment. With a sigh, she opens her message.

— 'Hey, just wanted to check in and see how you're doing on your end of the project! Let me know if you need anything.'

A finishing smiley face mocks Malia.

Considering she hasn't had a chance to work on the project at all, she considers just ignoring it. But then the night before comes back to her—a mixture of things Scott and Liam said. And she finds herself wondering if she can ask Rebecca about this or if it's overstepping a line. But, she wants to know. She kind of needs to. She thinks, if Rebecca can just confirm what she's already thinking—that Rebecca and Scott are together—then she can get some closure on this whole confusing mess.

Which is what she tells herself as she thumbs in a reply— 'Hey. Can I ask you something? It's a little off topic and might sound weird…'

Malia stares at the phone for a solid minute, waiting on a response and regretting her choices.

A bubble appears to show Rebecca is replying and she holds her breath.

— 'Sure. What's up?'

Malia types it out and deletes it a few times, before eventually setting on— 'Scott.' To which she then adds— 'McCall.'

Rebecca doesn't answer and Malia starts coming up with ways to back track. But then, her phone rings. Malia panics. She almost doesn't answer, until she realizes how dumb that would be. Obviously, Rebecca knows she has her phone on her. So, with a wince, she hits the 'Answer' button. "Uh, hey."

"Hey," Rebecca greets. "Sorry, I know it's weird etiquette to call when you're texting, but this kind of felt serious, so…"

"Oh. Yeah, sure. Um…" She runs a hand through her hair awkwardly, only to get her fingers tangled in a few knots. "I was just…"

"Did he tell you that I kissed him? Is that what this is about? Is he like, worried that I'm going to start some kind of rumor or something? Because I thought we figured things out after it happened."

Malia blinks, confused. "Huh?"

"I'm not a gossip. I don't like games like that. He was really good about everything and, I mean, it sucks to get rejected, but I'm okay."

Malia's opens her mouth to reply, but isn't quite sure what she's supposed to say. "I'm sorry," she offers, but it comes out more like a question than anything.

"It's cool. He's a really good guy and I liked him. I still do. We share a couple classes and I thought there was something there, but clearly I was reading it wrong."

Malia shakes her head. "Oh?"

"Yeah, I mean, I thought we were flirting and he thought we were just being friendly. It sucks, but I'll get over it."

"Yeah, sure, of course."

"He was a great kisser, though." Her voice lightens, like she's sharing gossip with a close friend, and Malia feels bad. She and Rebecca aren't really friends and she's essentially digging for information on someone who is. It just feels wrong somehow. "Can't blame a girl for trying."

Malia thinks back to the kiss— to the way they were standing and holding onto each other— and wonders if she misread the situation. "So, you kissed him?"

"He didn't tell you?" She continues before Malia can reply, "I knew he wasn't seeing anyone. Not since Kira. But like I said, I thought he liked me back, so I made the first move. Anyway, he was totally good about it. He explained that he was really into someone and he's sorry if he led me on. It's fine; no hard feelings."

Nodding, Malia slumps back against the couch and rubs a hand over her forehead, wishing she'd taken something for that headache she woke up with that feels like it's turning into a full-blown migraine. "Well, that's good, I guess…"

"Yeah. Could've gone worse." Rebecca pauses. "Is that why you were a little weird yesterday? I know you guys are friends and I don't want him to think I'm going to like, talk shit about him or something. He was really nice about everything. And I swear, I don't go throwing myself at every guy I meet."

"Yeah, no, it's fine. He's not worried about that."

"Okay, well, cool. So, we're good then? No weirdness?"

"No, no weirdness at all. I, uh, I'm just getting started on the project now. I was at a concert last night. Have you made any progress?"

Willing to let the subject drop and move on to school, Rebecca says, "Yeah, I just started, too."

They spend another ten minutes discussing the project before they hang up and Malia lets out a full-body sigh. She drops her phone to her stomach and tries to understand everything that's happened in the last 24 hours. Yesterday, she'd been so sure about what she saw between Scott and Rebecca. She had been sure about his feelings— or lack thereof— toward her. But now she's thinking about that moment, when they were so close she could feel the warmth of his breath on her mouth. She's thinking about other moments she might've misunderstood. Things her friends have said, that Scott's said, that she shrugged off.

'I would use up a whole meteor shower if it meant you could be happy.'

'I really think if you let Scott know you're interested, you'd be surprised.'

'Malia, you—'

'Is falling for a friend really that weird?'

'I can feel you slipping through my fingers and I don't know what to do.'

'Maybe you shouldn't give up just yet.'

It's small, that spark of hope that she's been stomping on all week, but it's there, and it's growing.


When Malia opens the front door, it's to be greeted by a frowning Lydia, who pushes her sunglasses up into her hair, points at her and says, "You have cereal on your shirt." She then brushes past Malia into her house and pivots on her feel, the skirt of her dress swishing around her legs. It's almost annoying how effortlessly put together Lydia always looks. "What's up?"

Malia brushes a dried Fruit Loop off her shirt and frowns. "We need to talk."

"Okay…" Lydia's brow furrows. "About?"

"Last night."

"How was it?"

"Fine, I guess." Malia shrugs and makes her way to the couch, plopping down on it. "The pre-schooler you set me up with is getting over his ex-girlfriend, but he was all right."

Lydia rolls her eyes. She takes a seat next to Malia and crosses her legs at the knee. "Anything else happen?"

"The concert was great." Malia stares at her. "And Scott might've shown up."

"Might have?"

"All right, he did. And we talked about some things, only not really. He was talking and I think he was trying to tell me something, but I'm starting to think I misinterpret everything…"

Lydia admires her nails. "Hm. What'd he say?"

"A lot of stuff. That he missed me this week and he thought he was losing me. I felt bad because I've been avoiding him and then he was talking about Paris and Davis and making some kind of mistake…" She shakes her head. "Anyway, Liam found us and after Scott left, he told me Scott has a thing for me. Which, I denied—"

"Of course you did."

Malia frowns. "What's that supposed to mean?"

"It means you've been sure about Scott's feelings from the very beginning. This whole thing started when you asked me how to get over him. Not how to tell him how you felt or how to move from friends to something else. You just decided he wouldn't want to be with you."

"Okay, well, that was slightly helped by the fact that I saw him kissing Rebecca," she defends.

"Yes, and I still have no idea how that happened. But the fact remains, you never talked to him." Shifting in her seat to face her better, Lydia reaches out and takes Malia's hand. "You were prepared for a 'no' before you ever got it."

"I was just trying not to get my hopes up!"

Lydia sighs. "I'm going to say this one time, because I really don't think you need someone on the outside spelling it out for you… I've seen how Scott looks at you. I've heard how he talks about you. And it's the exact way you look at and talk about him."

Her shoulders fall. "I'm scared."

"I know." Lydia squeezes her hand. "But you know a good cure for that…? Facing your fears."

Slowly, Malia nods. "How?"

Lydia grins. "Come on." Standing, she tows Malia into her bedroom and toward her closet. "You trust me, right?"

Malia purses her lips. "Yes," she admits reluctantly.

"Good."


When Malia gets to the diner, only Scott is sitting at a booth near the back corner, tapping at the screen of his phone. Lydia had gone home after helping her pick out an outfit, saying she'd meet up with them at 8. They're supposed to get dinner together before heading to the theater. She fiddles with her purse, opening and closing the flap nervously, and makes her way down the aisle toward him. He looks up and their eyes meet. A slow smile pulls up one side of his mouth and Malia feels her heart stumble.

"Hey," she greets, sliding into the opposite side of the booth. "Stiles isn't here yet?"

"Uh, he just texted me. He can't make it." He waves his phone before putting it aside. "I guess we're just waiting on Lydia."

She nods and crosses her ankles together. "I still have no idea what movie we're going to see."

"Uh, me either." His brow furrows. "I can look it up. See what's playing at 9:30."

"It's fine. Lydia's usually got good taste in movies."

"Usually." He grins. "Because you hated Pan's Labyrinth."

"Okay, I don't have anything against foreign films or subtitles. I just feel like I spend so much time reading the dialogue that I miss what's happening. So, when I look up and people have eyes on their hands, it's a little confusing."

"I think you fell asleep in that movie…"

"I did." She laughs. "I woke up drooling on your shoulder."

"Happened a few times, I think." He taps his hands against the table. "How, uh, how was the concert?"

"It was good. We left before they came out for an encore. Got dinner at McDonalds."

"Cool, cool…" He nods. "Liam's a nice guy. He's on the lacrosse team. I think he'll make captain next year."

"Yeah, he's all right. Talks about his ex-girlfriend a lot. Hayley or Harley or something like that."

"Hayden." Scott's brow furrows. "Really?"

"I guess he's still pretty broken up about it." She shrugs. "Anyway, I sent him home with a happy meal toy and some glow sticks."

"No kiss goodnight?"

She looks up at him, and she can see the wince that says he regrets asking and wants to take it back. "No. No kiss. Are you kidding? He's like, a fetus."

Scott lets out a huff of a laugh. "He's only a couple years younger…"

"Do you remember what we were like at 16?" Malia's nose scrunches up. "We were babies."

He ducks his head as he smiles. "Didn't feel like it at the time."

"No. We kind of felt invincible."

A waitress appears next to them then and puts down a giant chocolate milkshake and a large plate of fries. "Here ya go. Can I get you anything else?"

Malia looks up at her, surprised, and then turns a look on Scott.

"We're good for right now, thanks." As the waitress leaves, he grabs a fry and blows on it. "I told her you were on your way and asked her to throw the fries on when you sat down. This is also the biggest milkshake they were willing to make, so…"

Malia pulls her milkshake toward her and stirs the straw. "Five days overdue isn't too bad."

He leans forward, resting his arms on the table. "How's that extra credit project going?"

"Mostly done. When I wasn't studying for the math test, I was working on that, so, at least it's been a productive week…"

"Yeah, I… I texted you a few times, but you were pretty busy."

Swallowing a mouthful of milkshake and hoping it doesn't give her brain freeze, she takes a deep breath. "I kinda wanted to talk to you about that…"

Scott, who's been picking at the fries, dusts the salt from his hands. "Is this about last night? Because I'm sorry that I showed up like that and just crashed your date. It was weird and I wasn't thinking and I just kind of…"

"Kind of what?"

"I meant what I said. I felt like I hadn't seen you all week and you were pulling away and I just… panicked. And I know that's no excuse, showing up like some jealous boyfriend or something. But… I kept thinking about you two at the concert and then I remember when we went last summer." He looks away, past her shoulder, his brow furrowed in thought. "The music was so loud and there was so many people, but when we were dancing together, it was like… It was just us. And you were smiling at me, you were so happy, and I just remember thinking that I always wanted you to feel like that. That I hoped I'd always be there to see it."

Malia swallows tightly and stares at him searchingly. He still won't meet her eyes, but it's okay. "You do make me happy. Some of my best memories are with you." She reaches across the table and covers his hand. "If this is about Paris and Davis—"

"It isn't. Not totally." He shakes his head, his gaze falling to their hands, where her fingers gently press against his wrist. "I mean, it's part of it. Part of why I freaked out. Because I don't want us to drift apart. I know Paris is big and that you deserve it and I don't want you not to go. I just… I spent four days not talking to you and it sucked. So, the idea of not seeing or talking to you for two months is…"

"Shitty. I know." Malia gathers up her courage and admits, "I was a jerk. I… I was avoiding you and it wasn't just because of school."

Scott looks up then. "What?"

"Can we go somewhere?"

"Uh…" His eyes dart, confused. "Right now? But, what about the movie? And Lydia?"

"I don't think she's coming. I'm pretty sure the reason Stiles didn't is her fault, too." Malia shifts out of the booth, taking the fries and shake with her. "Come on. I'm getting these to go."

Scott takes a minute to follow, clearly unsure about the change in plans and what she has in mind. But, that's okay, because she doesn't want to have this conversation here. She stops at the front counter and asks the waitress to put her milkshake in a to-go cup and her fries in a box. She's not wasting perfectly good food.

After Scott pays, they make their way out to the parking lot and hop in her car. They'll have to come back for his bike later, she thinks absently.

As he's clipping his seat belt, he wonders, "Where are we going?"

She chews on the end of her straw as she pulls out onto the road. "Memory lane."

It takes them about fifteen minutes to reach the school, much of which they spend singing along—completely off-tune—to the radio and eating the rest of the fries. They leave the comfort of her car to walk across the lacrosse field.

"Okay…" Scott looks back at her. "Why the change of venue?"

She shrugs. "Privacy."

He looks amused; brows arched and a faint smile pulling at his mouth. "You've got a secret you wanna share?"

"Kind of." She kicks at the grass and blurts out, "I saw you on Monday."

He stares at her a beat and then his face clears. "With Rebecca."

"Yeah."

It takes a him a second, opening his mouth to say more, pausing, and reconsidering. Eventually, he tells her, "She kissed me. I wasn't really expecting it."

"At the concert, you said you did something stupid. Was that it?"

"Yeah." He nods. "Rebecca's great. She's a good person. And when she kissed me, I… I didn't stop her. I kept thinking that you were going to Paris and we'd lose touch and I don't know. She was there and she made a move and… It felt good. To be wanted. It's not really a good reason, I just… I felt bad after, I told her it wasn't her, it was me. Which is so cliched, but I meant it."

"I talked to her. She's fine with it. Says you're a good kisser and there's no hard feelings."

He half-smiles. "Good."

Malia hugs her arms around herself, her half-empty milkshake dangling from one hand. "I was at Lydia's last weekend. We were studying and talking and… I asked her how to get over someone. I was hoping she had some cure-all to feelings, which, not the most logical plan, but… I don't know. It felt like a last resort, since they weren't going away on their own." She shrugs. "She didn't have one, obviously. Her ideas ran more along the lines of 'just tell him you like him, Malia, and everything will turn out okay.' And, I thought about it. I spent the whole weekend thinking about all the right and wrong ways it could go… I psyched myself up and decided okay, yes, I'll tell him that I… think he's amazing and smart and funny and… Maybe he likes me back and we walk off into the sunset like dorky Disney characters getting their happily ever after… Only, actually saying those words is like pulling teeth so I keep putting it off, and then the end of the day comes and we're supposed to get fries and milkshakes and I think, this is it. Perfect timing…"

Realization dawns on his face and his mouth parts.

"And there you are, with Rebecca, and I just… Froze. You know?" She shakes her head. "It was stupid and immature, but I… ran. I sent you that text and I went home and I just… kicked myself for almost doing something so… big and dumb and… I don't know. After that, I felt so stupid and I couldn't look at you or be around you. I just wanted some space so I could get over it and you. But, Lydia was everywhere, trying to be supportive by setting me up with all these random people. I wasn't even interested in dating anyone, but Lydia was sure that if I could just meet someone else everything would be okay again. And then she was introducing me to Liam and telling us we were going to the concert and you were there and it all happened so fast. I couldn't back out because that would be weird and it was just a concert, so I thought hey, at least it'll get me out of the house and Lydia kept telling me I was moping…" She frowns. "I didn't go into it thinking it was a date-date. It was just music and this boy I barely know and it was fine. It was fun. But then, you were there and you were saying all these confusing things and… I don't know what it means. I don't know if I'm reading into it or I'm grasping at straws or what's happening. But, Lydia and Stiles think we should just talk, so, this is me… Talking."

Silence fills the space between and around them, until Malia feels the itchy desire to run again. Bury her head under her pillow and pretend this never happened. She's never really considered herself a coward. But there are some things, some fears, that feel so acute that it's hard not to want to avoid them.

Finally, Scott wonders, "How long?"

"Maybe always. I didn't really figure it out until the meteor shower…"

He nods, slow and thoughtful. "I wished for you… I know you can't really wish to have a person. But when it was happening and we were laying there, I wished that I could be the person that made you happy. That… I'd be there for all the best parts of your life and you'd be there for mine. So, I made a wish and… I chickened out. Because everything with Kira was still so raw and I didn't want you to think that I was just transferring everything over to you. I thought, I'll give it a few months and then I'll tell her that I like her. But then it was January and I started thinking about what comes next and I was worried that if we did get together and I was in Davis and you were here or somewhere else, then we'd break up and I'd lose you. And I'd rather have you as a friend than nothing at all." He sighs. "When you mentioned Paris, I realized I was gonna lose you either way. And then Rebecca was kissing me and I think I was pushing you away without even realizing it."

She shakes her head. "You didn't owe me anything. If you liked Rebecca—"

"But I didn't. I liked you before the meteor shower. I… I've always liked you. But, I was with Allison in the beginning. Don't get me wrong, because she was my first love. But, I knew when I met you that something was different. That you were different. I just wasn't ready to figure out what that meant. So, I… I was with Allison and then I met Kira and… I don't regret that. I loved them and… I don't know, I think sometimes you find people that fit who you are in that moment and it just works. Then the moment ends and you let them go… And maybe you and me, we just weren't ready for each other yet. But, you were always there. You always mattered to me. For a long time, I just didn't think you could even like me that way."

She frowns. "Why?"

"Because…" He smiles. "Malia, you're so smart and confident and funny. And I know you don't always see that about yourself, but I do. I see how hard you work at school and how much you love your dad and how loyal you are to your friends. You kick my ass when I need it, but you're also one of the kindest people I know. You stood up for Lydia when everything went wrong with Jackson and that was before you two were even close. You dragged me out of my room after Allison and I broke up. You willingly watch Star Wars with Stiles on the anniversary of his mom's death every year. Even though I know you hate those movies. And… you wanted to waste a wish on my lungs." He shakes his head. "Somehow that ranked as high as your mom and Kylie and your dad. I don't think you even know how much you care about other people and how you show it, but you do."

Malia shifts her feet then. She's not gonna lie— he's saying everything she's ever wanted to hear. All the right things. The hurt and anger of the last week is lost in the wake of realizing she's not the only one. That he cares about her as much as she does him. That they can have a real chance at being something. Except… "So, what happens then? What if we're just a moment and it's like you said… We try this and it blows up in our face and… We lose each other."

"I don't know. I wish I did," he admits. "But, I know that if we ignore it or we just let each other go, then we'll regret it."

She stares at him a moment, indecision and hope and excitement duke it out inside her.

Taking a deep breath, he walks toward her, stopping when they're inches apart. He takes the milkshake from her hand, placing the cup on the grass below. When he stands, his fingers gently brush against hers. "I'm sorry I took so long. But, I'm here now. I'm ready now. And I think that if we do this, we can make it work. It's like you said, we can call and text and Facetime over the summer. After that, we'll figure it out…"

It's not a guarantee, not really. Maybe it really does blow up in their faces.

—Or maybe it doesn't.

Scott leans forward, the tip of his nose grazing hers.

—Maybe they talk every day while she's in Paris.

His hand slides of her waist and up her back, drawing her a little closer, until their hips meet.

—Maybe she sends him post cards from every touristy place she visits and he sends her snapchats of lacrosse practice.

Her breath stutters at the first brush of his mouth against her own.

—Maybe she comes home a week before summer ends and Davis begins and they spend every day together.

She skims her fingers up his neck and into his hair, holding on tight as their parted lips slant together; gentle at first, until they're sure the other feels it, too. That pull and heat and exhilarated joy.

—Maybe she wakes up in his bed on a hazy morning and realizes she loves this goofy, handsome, gentle person. Her best friend. Maybe she whispers the words, just in case he's not ready and sleep can steal them away to save her some embarrassment. And maybe he smiles and kisses her neck and mumbles 'I love you, too' against her skin.

They push and pull at each other, his hand cupping her chin and hers resting over his fast-beating heart. And they can't get close enough, despite a lack of space left to occupy. They're tangled and warm and they fit. The tips of her fingers gently slide down his cheek and she can feel him smile against her mouth. Her heart leaps and she follows.

—Maybe they find a way to make it work and it's the best choice they ever make.

Malia opens her eyes to find him staring back at her, eyes soft and adoring. And she thinks this is what Lydia meant. That he looks at her like she does him. Dopey, sweet, and unfiltered.

He kisses her one more time, a peck more than anything, and says, "Your milkshake's melting."

Malia laughs. She steps back so she can bend and pick it up and takes a long sip.

Scott takes her hand and leads her farther across the lacrosse field. They lay down in the grass together to face the sky, their hands tangled. There are no meteors to be found, but if a shooting star happens to pass them by, they find one less thing on their wish list.


Come Monday, Malia finds herself walking down a busy hallway, hand in hand with Scott. She knows the smile she's sending him is beyond dorky, but she doesn't care. She's happy. They pass Liam and Mason on the way. Liam's brows hike when he notices them and he grins at her knowingly. She rolls her eyes, but her mood is still somewhere in the clouds, so she can't be bothered to glare.

By the time they reach her locker, Stiles and Lydia are waiting on them.

Arms crossed, Lydia smirks rather proudly. "I see you two talked."

Malia shakes her head, more amused than anything. "Like that wasn't your plan the whole time…"

"Sometimes people just need a good push. I saw an opportunity and I took it." She shrugs. "You two did the hard work, finally getting over all your fears and taking a chance. I just made sure there was ample time to make it happen."

Stiles grins, his thumbs looped in the straps of his bag. "For the record, I told you guys to do that from the beginning."

Scott snorts, but tells Lydia, "I guess we should thank you."

"You're welcome. And one more thing…" She flips open her purse and digs out a collection of papers that she then hands to Malia. "Consider it an early graduation gift." With that, she sashays down the hall.

Stiles claps Scott's shoulder, winks at Malia, and then follows after her.

"What is it?" Scott wonders.

Malia unfolds the papers to see 'Application for Admission to Napa Valley College Criminal Justice Training Center' written across the top in block letters.

Scott's brows arch. "Napa's only about an hour's drive from Davis."

She smiles slowly. "Yeah. It is."

"We can check out the website at lunch, see if it's the right fit."

"I'd like that."

The bell rings then, demanding they head to class.

"I'll see you at break?" He ducks to press a kiss to her cheek.

Malia turns to catch his lips and lingers there a moment, her hand on his chest. His settle on her hips, thumbs rubbing back and forth. It's warm and intimate and so easy to get lost in.

He presses his forehead to hers and lets out a shaky breath. "What am I doing?"

The corners of her mouth turn up slowly. "Going to class."

"Right. Class." But he doesn't lean away. "School's important."

She laughs and gives his chest a little push. "We'll pick this up on break."

He backs away, smiling. "Promise?"

Malia nods. "Promise."

As Scott leaves, she turns back to her locker to dig out what she needs for first period and put her bag away. She reaches in the pocket of her jacket for her phone when she finds something else. Something thin and round. Pulling it out, she finds a yellow glow-stick bracelet. Staring at it, a slow grin forms on her mouth. That absolute dork… Sliding it onto her wrist, she closes her locker and basically floats to class.

If she sees him at break and he's wearing a matching blue bracelet, well, there's no one she'd rather be a dork with than him.


end


author's note: considering this was all told from malia's pov, i feel like scott's feelings had to be carefully threaded throughout. so, i do hope that his crush on her came through in the first couple chapters via his own actions and things lydia and stiles said. i didn't want it to be too obvious at first, but i did want there to be a sort of 'wait, this is not as unrequited as malia thinks it is' thing happening. hence, the conversation with stiles in last chapter is carefully constructed in a way that suggests stiles knows scott has feelings for malia and actually believes malia doesn't return them and that's why she's been avoiding them all week, except malia thinks everything he's saying is actually in reference to her having a crush on scott and thinking it's not requited. anyway, i do hope that came across, otherwise scott's declarations of feelings might seem out of the blue. /awkward

also, i again want to put out there that i am thinking of posted the season 1 rewrite with malia there from the very beginning and i'm curious to know if people want that to get start before or after the series finale. so, please let me know your thoughts on that. as i am a little concerned people are not going to be reading as much TW fic after the show ends. :(

i do hope you enjoyed this. i have to say, it's one of my favorites. i have more scalia fics planned, for sure. including one that sees malia raised as a hale. so, keep an eye out and please try to leave a review! :) they're a huge encouragement.

finally, a huge thanks to everyone that lefts comments and kudos and reblogged this on tumblr, i seriously appreciate all of your support!

thank you for reading!
- Lee | Fina