After one disastrous interaction at the grocery store, Avery ventured out of building at a very fast pace towards her car, with her little brother, whom was very confused, in tow. She was forcefully throwing her shopping bags into the trunk of her car whilst thinking of ways to escape the country when she heard him.

"Avery?" She froze, before turning to Stiles, tears that she didn't even know that had sprung were clear for all to see in her eyes. "Can we talk, you've been avoiding me all week and, to be honest, I really want to know why-" The loud smack of skin hitting skin with incredible force resonated through out the parking lot.

Avery had hit him. Right across his right cheek, with her own right hand and it went red almost immediately.

"You are next level rude." She spoke lowly, beyond hurt and felt very betrayed. Hell, he had made her hit him and she was never a violent person. This was actually the closest she's ever been to being in a fight.

Stiles stood still, hand on his face and eyes wide open, surprise, pain and confusion swimming in his hazel orbs.

"I ask you out and then I wait for six hours for you to show up!" Avery sneered at him, "Then you show up to school three days later with Lydia Martin? Do you have any idea of how humiliated I feel?" She never give him a chance to answer before she threw the rest of her shopping into the trunk, grabbed Taylor and practically broke several driving violations escaping the damn parking lot.

"Wait a minute. When did she ask you out?" Scott was confused, but also mad at the man he called his best friend. How the actual hell could he forget a date with such a beautiful, willing girl like Avery? After all, Stiles was never, absolutely, ever asked on a date. Hell, he barely asked anyone out himself.

"I think it must have last week, you know, when I was rushing to go with you to Derek's. She was talking to me but we needed to go, so I was just saying yes to everything she said." Stiles paused, sitting down harshly on Scott's bed, "Shit. She probably was asking me out and now I probably look like a dick!"

Scott let out a tired chuckle and nodded, "You're a dick."

Stiles nodded softly, before dramatically flopping backwards until his head was touching the bed, "I am a dick."

"You told him off?" Georgia giggled and her laughter came out slightly wheezy as her whole body shook with the force of her joy. "That's the best thing you've told me in so long." She laid on her best friend's bed, the other girl in question (Avery) sat on her black spinning desk chair, behind her desk. "So," she paused, devastatingly scared that her friend might take this the wrong way, "Does this mean you're finally over him?"

Avery let out a forced, dark chuckle, "Honestly?" She waited for a nod from her friend before continuing, "I'm just sick of hearing all of this shit." She leant back, her blonde hair tumbling over the back of the chair, she ran her hands over her face. "I was brave. And I was strong when I asked Stiles out, after so many years of wishing and wanting and waiting. I've always been so scared to do anything and when I finally do something; I'm hurt." Avery felt tears once again gather in the corner of her eyes.

Georgia rushed over to her friend as fast as she could, although she did struggle to untangle her leg from the comforter at one point, and pulled the girl into a hug as she broke into tears.

"Shhh." Georgia stroked her head, "It's okay."

But Avery shook her off and stood, walking towards the vintage, white wood-stained dresser that sat beneath her large, gold bordered mirror. She stared at her own reflection for a while, before looking down and staring at the photograph that sat on the dresser. It was of her family, before her father left. Her mother and father looked happy, but they weren't.

Her father and then Stiles.

"It seems that I drive away anyone whom I love."

It was once again Monday and Avery was once again forced into the realisation that she would be forced to face the demons that lay in wake for her in hell. Or as she was forced to call it; high school.

She walked in slowly, her head bowed and her eyes glued to the floor. Avery was going to get through this week like she did the weekend, with modifications of course. On weekdays she wasn't able to hide in the safe comfort of her bedroom, at least according to both her mother and social convention. So, here she was - avoiding people and also slightly wanting to bolt out of the building faster than Barry Allen himself.

"Why did you hit my boyfriend?" As soon as the words were said a pair of brightly coloured (fluorescent yellow) high heels appeared into Avery's view of the ugly, linoleum floor. Soon Avery was forced to trail her eyed up the short, but uncomfortably pretty, build of Lydia Martin. The girl didn't look incredibly unhappy, mostly confused with a touch of jealousy. Was Lydia Martin jealous of her?, Avery thought.

"I, uh, don't know what you mean." It was a lie, one that was easily detected by the red head, whom raised her eyebrows in an unconvinced manner. Avery thought silently that this may possibly result in her participating in her second ever fight.

"Lie." Lydia stated the word, loudly and managed to gain a small audience that scrutinised the two girls with avid eyes. "Tell me why."

Avery tried desperately to shrink into the white half tank and pale blue cardigan she wore, with little success. "I just want to get to my locker, please." She also tried (unsuccessfully) to get passed the other girl, whilst also avoiding making eye contact with her, or the crowd that had formed.

Lydia opened her mouth, ready to verbally assault the blonde girl who stood in front of her, but was cut off by the morning bell going off, warning everyone that they were now late for homeroom. Loud, unhappy groans emitted from the crowd, but Avery had never been more relieved in her life and almost ran to her locker before heading at a slightly slower (but still pretty fast) pace towards her homeroom.

She felt like she had literally just managed to avoid some kind of old Western showdown in the hallway.

Erica Reyes stormed up to Lydia Martin later that day, her dark blond curls flying out behind her and her eyes held glints of bright yellow, Boyd walking at a fast pace behind her attempting to prevent any fight that would ultimately break out at this point. "Why did you corner Avery McDonald this morning?" Was the first thing out of Erica's lips when she approached the table that their group usually sat at, also managing to smack her hands against the table-top gaining the entirety of the pack's attention.

Stiles's head snapped towards the girl who sat next to him, "What?" He looked at his girlfriend, suddenly feeling angry and also very guilty that he had been the one to start all of this drama. "You cornered Avery this morning?"

Lydia flipped her hair over her shoulder, getting it out of the way of her eyes. "So what?"

Erica's eyes flashed brilliant gold, forcing Scott (who sat on the chair next to where she stood) to yank her into her own chair before other students saw. The blonde girls took a deep breath in through her nose, forcing herself to calm down and gaining an approving nod from the older werewolf. "Why did you start shit with her this morning?" Every word out of Erica's mouth was sharp, her eyes narrowing at the girl that she (to be honest) didn't always like, or appreciate.

"She hit Stiles." Lydia spoke honestly, grabbing the pack's attention and forcing them all to lean in, curious as to what she was going to say. "He wouldn't tell me why, so I asked someone else instead."

Stiles ran one of his large hands down his face in exasperation, his eyes looking over to where the blonde girl in question sat with her friend who had an air tank. I'm a horrible person, Stiles thought to himself. If he had only not been in such a rush that day, this never would have happened.

"So why did she hit him?" Isaac asked casually, waving the fry he was going to eat in Stiles direction, silently telling him to answer instead of his girlfriend.

But Lydia answered anyway, "She denied ever hitting him."

Erica spat out, "If she did hit him, the idiot probably deserved it."

Scott stared at his best friend with a look that told Stiles to do the right thing; to confess all, to make it up to all parties involved (but more Avery than Lydia) and to admit to himself that Avery deserves to be taken on the date she had planned for the two of them, whether Stiles was dating Lydia or not. Although, by now Scott should come to terms with the fact that neither he, nor Stiles, listened to one another.

Stiles sat in his room later that night silently, after having refused Lydia's enticing offer to go to her house after school to 'study'. He lay out on his unmade bed, looking over to his shelves were various books were homed, many of the newer copies being about the supernatural and all things mythical. There was a space on the shelf, where one of the books was missing. He knew which book it was too.

Psychic Abilities and the Supernatural Creatures That Have Them.

He had taken it to Lydia's house the night he was meant to go on a date with Avery, after a two minute phone call from Lydia saying she was interested in finding out more on her Banshee heritage. Although very little reading had taken place that night.

Stiles sighed, moving his head to face his plain ceiling, wondering when his father would return from the station. Was he really going to ask his father about Avery? Yes, he was.

Stiles had to make it up to her. Somehow, at least.

He did break her heart after all.