Ten Reasons Why
Summary: An algebra assignment, a three leaf clover, an air freshener, a prescription bottle, a Star Wars trading card, a bottle cap, a tube of lip balm, a toy car, a photograph and a roll of candy. These are the ten reasons why…
Disclaimer: I do not own any of the characters of Teen Wolf, London however is all mine.
Letter Number 6
Stiles found himself wondering how much longer it would take to read the letters. It wasn't that he was going to stop, there was nothing that would make him give up for the night now, but he was curious to find out how many hours of sleep he could get depending on how fast he made it through each and every one.
But did he really want to rush through them, they were full of secrets for the most part, they were windows into the girl that he had thought he knew and Stiles was slowly finding out that she had way more information stored away than even he could have imagined.
Gently Stiles set the last letter he had finished inside the box, tucked away with the rest of the read letters. He wasn't giving up for the night, not yet, but he definitely needed a tiny little break, just long enough to empty his bladder and maybe brush his teeth.
As quietly as he could, he climbed off his bed and disappeared down the hallway. The lights were all off except for in his bedroom, which wasn't really a shock to him, but it was still somewhat eerie nonetheless. Ever since Scott had become a werewolf, Stiles always found himself slightly uneasy in the darkness. Who knew what else was out in the world that could harm him without warning?
They had already dealt with a Kanima and Peter Hale, the crazy, blood thirsty alpha, had somehow managed to bring himself back to life, maybe he would show up one day with a plan that involved threatening Stiles' life. There was no way anyone could trust that man, not after what he had done.
Stiles quickly made his way into the bathroom and glanced at himself in the mirror. He squeezed his eyes shut and let his thoughts drift to London, the girl who had wanted to kill herself, the girl who suffered from depression. What did she see when she looked in the mirror? What thoughts possibly filled her head about herself to make a person want to die?
Shaking his head, Stiles let out a long breath and went about his business. There was no sense trying to figure out answers to his questions on his own, whatever London was going through seemed to be something only she would ever understand.
Minutes later, with an empty bladder and clean teeth, Stiles slunk back to his room and gently shut the door behind him. He rested his forehead against the wood momentarily and silently counted to ten in an attempt to mentally prepare himself for the next half of London's set of letters.
His palms pressed fiercely against the door and he pushed himself away from it, turning on his heels and practically leaping into the bed, mindful of the shoe box and the contents inside.
Letter number '6' was pulled free from the box as well as the smaller box marked with the corresponding number as well. It was no bigger than a ring box and Stiles cocked his head at the sight. Jewelry, could London really be giving him jewelry?
He ripped the box open excitedly and lifted the lid, his face falling at the sight. No precious jewels, diamonds or otherwise, were inside, instead he found himself looking at a bottle cap, a black bottle cap. Underneath that was a piece of black paper that covered the bottom of the box, the white words, in a fancy script, easy to read against the dark background.
"Jack Daniel's." Stiles chuckled. "Are you a closet alcoholic London?"
He was rather familiar with the liquid, it was one of his top choices of booze to drink when the time called for it. London had come to him one day during the summer. She had seemed upset and ready to punch someone, so he had told her to chill out and they could meet up after dinner. Low and behold, when he was on his way out of the house, he stopped and nabbed the bottle of Tennessee Whiskey out of his own father's liquor cabinet, or at least what was left of good old Jack Daniel's.
London had seemed slightly surprised but she had followed him along without hesitation, the two of them ending up in the preserve, lounging on a rock not too far away from Derek Hale's dilapidated house. London didn't know that, or if she did, she didn't let Stiles know that she did. Not that it mattered, Derek had been busy for a lot of the summer, the alpha was trying to help Jackson learn the werewolf lifestyle as best as he could before the Whittemore boy was shipped off to England.
Stiles figured that London wasn't even aware of what Derek Hale actually looked like, well, aside from the fact that she had, in fact, met him one time while she was hanging out with Stiles but he had introduced him as Miguel, his cousin. London had seemed to accept his explanation but her comments hadn't gone ignored.
'You have a cousin that looks like that and you've been keeping him from me?'
'Not that you're ugly or anything Stiles but it would seem you got stuck swimming in the shitty end of the gene pool.'
On and on, her comments about his 'cousin Miguel' were constantly praising his looks. Stiles figured Derek was a decent looking person, no doubt his body was sculpted under his tighter than average fitting clothes, but that didn't mean he wanted to hear London talk about him.
No, London was Stiles' friend and he had wanted to make sure she stayed out of the werewolf stuff.
Shaking his head at the memory, Stiles grabbed hold of the sixth letter and sliced the envelope open. He pulled the letter out, unfolded it while he played with the bottle cap in his hand, and started to read.
Dear Stiles,
Yes Stiles, it's a bottle cap, but it's important to me, it's from my first real drink.
I want to say thank you for that night that you and I both ended up pretty boozed up but the events of the next day would seem to disagree. I was sick, hung over as they say, and man did it suck.
Now you're probably thinking 'her first real drink, has she never had a sip of beer before or a taste of a cooler from her parents'. That's not what I said Stiles, I said real drink. Yes I've tasted beer, it's rather disgusting, and my mom had let me try her coolers on more than one occasion. When I was thirteen I went to my cousin's wedding and got to have my own glass of wine. Okay so I ended up taking one sip, gagging and proclaiming that I was never going near wine again. I don't know if I'd rather drink wine or turpentine…hmm…that's an interesting comparison, but trust me, it fits. Wine is disgusting, and so is beer and coolers and especially Jack Daniel's.
So why did I drink so much of it that night that you met me at the preserve? Why did I help you finish the bottle and end up feeling like a sack of potatoes the next day? I'll tell you. It was kind of nice, even if it was just for a while, to be able to talk to you without a filter. I don't know how much of that night that you remember but I remember quite a bit. A lot of the important stuff was said before I got too into the alcohol.
It all started when you began rambling about the time you brought Scott out to get drunk after him and Allison (is that her name?) split up. You continued to yammer on and on about how they're perfect for each other and all this junk about how they were destined to be together but the conversation took a turn (and so did my stomach) when you got into their sex life.
I don't know about you but the last thing I want to hear about is some teenaged sex thing and how you had to live vicariously through Scott because, oh here's the kicker, you're a virgin. Do you remember what I said when you announced that you were still a virgin.
"Yeah, well I've never even been kissed."
That's what I said and then I regretted letting those words out because I knew you were going to say something, and I prepared for the worst. Freak, weirdo, loser. But you didn't say anything like that, you turned to look at me with your beady little eyes and you grinned.
"I can fix that right now."
Apparently alcohol makes you a cocky little shit, you know that?
"You know what Stiles, I'm good." That was my response and you scoffed, like I had somehow offended you, even though you were the one lying against a tree looking at me like I was in desperate need of a good ravishing.
"Okay, okay, but if you change your mind, you know where to find me."
I did know where to find you. We were pretty much best friend at that point and I knew where you lived, I have your phone number, we texted almost daily, but how would I ever expect that offer to be anything more than a joke?
"You wouldn't want to kiss me anyways." Those were the words that had come out of my mouth and trust me when I say this now, I wasn't looking for pity, that's honestly what I thought.
When you've dealt with some of the things I've dealt with, it's not hard to believe that people don't actually want to be around you. I don't know what I did to deserve your friendship but I'm glad I did whatever it was.
"I would so want to kiss you." Your words were starting to slur a tiny little bit but I've been told in the time since then that a drunk man's words are a sober man's thoughts.
Whether or not you actually wanted to kiss me, that's not important to this letter right now. What is important is the conversation at hand.
"I'm sixteen and I've never been kissed, that means that I've gone all my life without someone touching their lips against mine. That's lame."
Now, understand this, it was hard to be honest, to open up, and reveal something that sounded crazy. Because once you tell someone the truth, that person has a piece of you and they could belittle it, destroy it, they could turn your confession into a wound that never healed.
What was truly stopping you from going to all of your friends, or even just people that you know, and announcing to them that London Lee Parker was a loser who had never been kissed? Nothing Stiles, there was nothing really stopping you but you didn't do that, you didn't take what I told you and destroy it, you didn't take my confession and turn it into an unhealing wound. No, you let it scab over, you let the skin grown up over it, consuming the dark, blackened scab and disappear leaving only the faintest of scars.
So thank you Stiles. You're one of two people that I now trust in this world, the other one, like I've said before, is my mother. There, you're on the same pedestal as my own parent, how's that feel? It should feel good because it's important to me, you are important to me.
"Well hang on a second Lon…" You've only ever called me Lon once and it was that time. I let it slip because you were pretty tipsy but I'm telling you now that no one calls me Lon, okay, not even my mom.
"Hang on a second? Stiles no one wants to kiss me, I'll probably never be kissed. Everyone else that I know has had boyfriends or girlfriends and they've probably kissed a billion people-"
"Not a billion, that's way too many. Seriously though London, it's not lame, you've got nothing to worry about."
"But I should have had my first kiss by now!" I shouted and you just stared at me, eyes wide, as though this was a new experience. I guess maybe I hadn't ever really shouted at you before but that doesn't mean it should have shocked you.
"There's no designated time for anything in your life." Your eyes were normal now and your tone was soft, sympathetic almost.
"But I'm sixteen! I should have had my first kiss by now, I should be well on track to losing my virginity, like everyone else, and meeting the 'one' and getting married before I'm thirty-"
You cut me off.
"You don't have to have your first kiss at any certain time, you don't have to get married in your twenties and you don't have to do anything just because other people think its best." You pushed yourself away from the tree and slithered over next to me, slipping an arm around my shoulders and pulling me against your side. "In fact, you will be much better off if you just do what your heart says. The day you stop caring what other people think is the day their opinions don't mean anything, because you're not there to give them weight, you hear me London?"
I curled into your side and let out a sigh. What was I supposed to say to that? It made sense, really it did and it helped a little bit but I still felt kind of sad, a little lame even. When I looked up at your face, a pensive expression etched there, I couldn't help it.
"Well I could always talk you into setting me up on a blind date with your cousin Miguel."
"Um no." Such finality in your words young Skywalker. I actually tensed because you sounded so commanding. It was weird, normally you're this relaxed, laidback, fun-loving guy and at that moment you weren't. You were my protector, my safety net, you were there when I needed you and don't you ever think that I, for one second, took any of that for granted. You were always there when I needed you, you picked me up when I was down, you stopped me from committing suicide.
"No? Isn't he single? He's really attractive you know." I pointed out and snuggled against you further. I sought out your body heat, even though it wasn't cold that night, it was nice to feel the warmth you provided. It was comforting in my uncomfortable life.
"I mean, I guess, yeah, he's single, as far as I know but that's not happening."
"What, do you think I'm not good enough for him?"
"I think you're too good but that's not the point okay. I get it okay, you're feeling like you're behind in the whole growing up stage, part of you wants to be on the same page as everyone else and maybe kissing Miguel would help you but come on London, in the long run, is it really worth it?"
"Why not? If he's interested of course."
"It's not going to make you feel better, I think you should worry about finding someone special to be your first kiss, someone who likes you for you and who you'd want to share that magical experience with. I don't want you to be just another notch in Miguel's bedpost, if he has a bedpost; it's probably more like-"
"Okay, I get it, no Miguel." I sighed and dropped my head onto your shoulder. I looked forward, out into the dark forest and tried desperately to push the mental picture of Miguel to the back of my mind. You shifted on the ground and held me tighter and when you pressed a soft kiss to the top of my head, I flinched, barely, and I don't even think you noticed.
"What if you look at it this way, okay, London, you're a Disney princess, a Disney princess who is just currently in the sad part of her feature film. It's going to be okay, it's going to get better and I promise you that one day, when the time is right, you'll get your first kiss and it'll be magical and then you and your prince charming can live happily ever after in a really big castle."
That's what you said, that's what you promised and maybe, looking back on it now, you were right, well aside from the actual finding a prince and living in a castle part. I'll let that go because the general idea was there and I understood what you were trying to get at.
"Either that or I'll turn into a frog." I hadn't intended for you to hear it, a simple muttering under my breath, but you did and you broke out into the loudest fit of laughter I've ever heard. It was quite a while until you settled down enough to form words again.
"Well darlin' if you end up as an amphibian, I will catch you and keep you as my little pet. I'll take care you of, heck, I'll even catch you flies and get you a lily pad to sit on-"
"Gee thanks Stiles."
"But see, I'd do all that for you, and more London. That's what friends are for."
I didn't really know until that point what friends were really for. It had been quite a while since I had a real friend and sure, the idea seems simple, to take care of your friends when they're not at their best, to stick by them when they're not entirely themselves, but until those words spilled out of your mouth, it was hard to figure out what to expect from a friend.
You're my friend and I am yours, you were there when I was down, you helped pick me up, you helped me get through my darkest nights and you were there for me during my brightest days.
Thank you Stiles, thank you for being a real friend and thank you for making me feel, for once in my life, like I wasn't an outsider.
Regards,
London Lee Parker
Stiles let out a small chuckle. He hadn't remembered that night quite as vividly as she had but he could recall the general thoughts that they had exchanged, the confession of him being a virgin, her admitting she had never been kissed. The implication was there, it was obvious too, she was a virgin as well, and he didn't doubt that.
When he had said those things to her, it wasn't because he was drunk, even though he did get a little profound when he was drinking; no he had said those things to her because he truly believed them. Well, maybe not the living in a castle part but it was still a possibility, a very slim possibility, but if anyone could wind up with a prince and living in a castle, it was definitely London.
He wasn't trying to treat her special or make sure that he made her feel like she was important, at least not on purpose, he was just doing what he always did, he was treating her like a friend, which was exactly what she was that night. She was one of his best friends, still was, and that night was when everything seemed to fall into place.
No she wasn't going to get Derek Hale as her first kiss, not if he had anything to say about it, in fact, it was too long after that night that she had gotten her first kiss. Stiles had been there, had known how it would have made her feel and he figured she had made a decent decision on who was going to be the one to provide her with the honour of being the first person to receive a kiss from the wonderful girl known as London.
With the memory of that night taking over his thoughts, Stiles couldn't help but grin. Yes she was most definitely a Disney princess and he was starting to believe that he was her leading man, her prince, her hero, but most importantly, her friend.
XxxxxxXxxxxxXxxxxxX
Author's Note:
I am honoured and cannot express enough how thankful I am that London and her story are getting such positive feedback! Thank you guys!
I've said it before and I'll say it again: you guys are truly amazing an if you've ever felt or are feeling like London, just remember to keep going. I'm here to listen if you want to talk or if you want to vent about something (Teen Wolf included) then I'm all ears.
If any of you are having a tough time with anything along the lines of depression or other mental illnesses, I'm always open to talk. I know it can be difficult, I've been there before.
iLoveStydia: Thanks so much for leaving a review! Glad to hear that you love it!
noelle: I'm extremely grateful for your kind words and I'm really glad that London's words have inspired you! Thank you so much!
lenie954: Aw shucks! Your welcome, I guess lol. Stories like these wouldn't happen without people like you! So thank you right back!
PassionForWritingAlex: London seems real!? She's based on my experiences and that means a lot! Yes! Little things are important! Thank you so much for the reviews and I'm so glad that you continue to enjoy!
poorxbrokexcollegexkid: Yoda IS the biggest BAMF for sure! Her father and his actions are based on true events haha! Thank you so much for your continued support!
nessafly: Pure greatness lol, well thank you for that! I'm honoured that you can relate to her!
winchesterxgirl: Exactly! I feel the same about Scott, he's not a bad guy and I can't see him ever making someone feel left out or anything! He's definitely the type of person who would do what he could to make sure everyone felt included! Thank you so much for the reviews!
Questions, concerns, ideas that you want to see, you know what to do, just leave me a review or a PM and I'll do my best!
