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Emma's POV

Emma walked through the front door to see her father, placing his coat over his back while looking at a newly-put up mirror on the light-brown wall.

She noticed the boxes that bombarded their front entrance were gone, presenting the clean, light hardwood floor. She saw many new additions to the house compared to how it looked when she left earlier that morning.

"It look okay? I was just hoping you could put some dishes away," Bruce asked, picking up a dark duffel bag, "I got to leave work early today, so I decided to unpack."

"Looks great, Dad," Emma said, kicking off her flats, "You leaving now?"

"Yeah," her father groaned.

"Tell Grandma I said hi," Emma chirped, hanging her backpack off the staircase banister and pecking her dad on the cheek. "Oh, Dad, do I have your permission to go to a friend's house tonight to work on a Biology project?"

"Oh," her father moaned, wearily. Emma wasn't too worried about not being able to go- she knew her dad was very easily persuaded by her.

"Please? Don't worry, Dad, you know I won't get in any trouble. Trust me."

"I know. It's not you I don't trust, it's-"

"Other people, yes, I know," Emma consoled. She was used to the whole routine.

"What's her name? Maybe I know her parents."

"Um, I'll be at Sheriff Stilinski's house," Emma mumbled, nervously biting on her lower lip.

"I only know of one child he has-"

"Yeah, Stiles- he's my lab partner," Emma told him, reluctantly. She felt strange hearing herself say his name so loudly.

"Oh," he simply stated.

"But you know his Dad, and you can call him if you really want to-"

"No need," her father smiled, still obviously a little unsure about Emma going to about what he just agreed to, "But my number is-"

"Saved on my phone, added to the home phone and on the fridge, just in case- I know," Emma interupted, watching as Bruce walked past her and began to slip on his shoes, "I'll take care of the house and Mitt." She pointed to the black and white cat, sitting by the edge of the wall.

"Love you, Em," her dad said, giving her a small smile.

"Love you, too," she replied, tightly gripping his shoulders, "Have a good weekend."

"You, too, kiddo," Bruce responded. He sighed as he opened the door. A wind rolled into the house, causing Emma's bronze hair to fly back behind her. Bruce jingled the keys in his hands as he clutched his duffle bag and shut the door. The house was filled with silence. Emma leaned against the shoe closet behind her, and crossed her arms as she looked at her cat. The tabby slowly walked through the hallway and up the stairs, already adjusted to the new house.

Emma walked over to the quaint living room and plopped down on the cream-coloured fabric sofa. She looked up at the big grandfather clock in the corner of room. 10 past 3. Stiles was to pick her up at 5.

She decided to go into the kitchen for a bowl of cereal, then put away the dishes her father asked her to, to get it out of the way. A whole weekend- this house to herself. She didn't know how she felt about it yet.

After cleaning up the kitchen, Emma made her way upstairs and into her room. She looked to see the massive pile of clothes on her bed that she had built up that morning. Emma shuffled around the clothing to find her cerulean-blue 3/4 sleeved shirt. She picked it out and held it against her body as she gazed in the mirror. The shirt went well with her dark-denim jeans.

After deciding to pair it with a necklace that had a small heart on the end of it and braiding her bangs to pull them back with a bobby pin, Emma was ready. 3:39.

Emma decided to re-fold all her clothes and put them in the closet. She then went on her laptop to browse the Internet, and before she knew it, it was 4:53. Emma quickly turned off her computer, chose a pair of grey sneakers and swung her backpack on.

Stiles' POV

Stiles made his way down the vacant street, thanking himself for remembering to bring cologne to use after practice. He glanced at his rear-view mirror, making sure there was nothing on his face. It was difficult for him to accept that he was driving to Emma's house. To pick her up.

He was thankful his father had no problem with him inviting a friend over to study. Although Stiles didn't exactly mention this friend was a girl. He laughed at the recent memory of Scott teasing him. Satisfied that he was able to stop at his house and clean up, Stiles swallowed nervously as he turned into Crusberry Drive. He slowed down his Jeep in front of Emma's white house, licking his lips nervously. He soon saw Emma swing open the door and turn to lock it. Stiles cleared his throat and fixed his posture. He turned down the radio presenting the weather forecast and smelled the air, beginning to worry he had some kind of moldy food in the back of the Jeep.

He looked back up to see Emma crossing the front of the vehicle. Stiles honked the loud horn, startling Emma. She looked at him, with a shocked smile on her face. He sucked his teeth and gave her a mischevious grin. Emma swung open the passenger door, with her hand on her hip.

"You want to fail this test, or..?"

"Sorry," Stiles shouted, in a sing-song voice, "I'll buy you curly fries." He nodded, giving a suggestive smile.

"Ok, but I'm only in for the curly fries," she answered, climbing into the Jeep. Stiles looked at her as she put on her seatbelt, admiring her humor.

"Ready?" he asked, his hands resting on the steering wheel and looking ahead to the street.

"No, could you wait for like 45 minutes?" Emma sarcastically said. Stiles looked over at her to see an radiant smile directed at him.

"Why? You have to go terrorize children, or whatever you do with your spare time?" Stiles teased, as he watched her tuck a strand of hair behind her ear.

"No, I only do that on Tuesdays," she answered, crossing her leg over the other. Stiles smiled at her, shaking his head as he began to put the car into a u-turn.

"So, how was practice?" Emma chirped, slapping her hand to her thigh.

"I want to say boring, but that's putting it lightly," Stiles responded, turning out of the street. Emma's tender laughter made him grin even wider. "No, it's good- I've always liked lacrosse," he said seriously.

"By the way, I was right- you are a good player," she told him, waving a finger in the air. Stiles licked his lips and blushed at the compliment.

"Thanks- obviously I'm so good, people have to smack me in the face out of their jealousy," he joked. Emma chuckled and nodded agreeingly.

"Ghosts of Detour?" she wondered, pointing to a disc-case on the dashboard.

"One of the best bands out there," Stiles announced

"Well, if they're the best, I don't know why I haven't heard of them," Emma remarked, looking over in his direction. "May I?" she asked, gesturing to inspect the CD case.

"Yeah," he cheered, admiring her politeness. She grabbed the disc off the dashboard and looked at the cover.

"Can we listen to them?" she asked, opening the case.

"I welcome it," he answered, eager she had an interest in his taste in music. The familiar first song began to play. Emma tapped her fingers against her knee. After a verse and the chorus, Emma spoke.

"Hey, this is great." Stiles nodded, relieved she approved.

"They're even better live," he told her, reminded of the concert he had gone to the previous summer.

"Oh, you went to their concert?" They approached a red-light. Stiles looked over to Emma's curious brown eyes.

"Yeah, it was awesome," he replied, tapping his fingers against the steering wheel.

"I feel so culturally deprived- I've actually never been to a concert!" Emma cried, "It's definitley something I want to do before I die. Along with hot-air ballooning." Stiles wanted to offer to go to a concert with her, but decided against it. 'You're on your way to study, it's not even a date', he thought to himself. He frowned at his thoughts.

"I want to get over 80 on a test before I die," Stiles responded, nodding his head. "That would be great."

"Well, you're on the right track," Emma sarcastically boasted, "With such an awesome study-buddy."

Stiles laughed and turned to see a green-light. He accelerated and glanced over at Emma.

"I'm sure," is all he could say before something jumped out in front the car. Stiles slammed on the breaks, the screeching of his tires against the asphalt blaring from outside. He involuntarily reached for Emma, snatching her wrist as the car came to a full stop. A small, terrified rabbit looked in both directions and hopped across to the other side of the road. "Holy crap," he breathed.

"That is one troublesome bunny," Emma remarked. Stiles nervously took his hand off her wrist, trying to avoid the fact that he did that, and began to drive the car down the road.

Emma's POV

Emma looked down at her wrist. She felt her heartbeat through her fingertips, thinking of how Stiles protectively grabbed her. She wanted his hand back on hers.

"Welcome to Beacon Hills," Stiles muttered. Emma chuckled, looking over at his profile for a hundredth time. She earnestly read his features. Perked, humble nose. Thick, dark eyelashes. Enchanting, pink lips. "Where did you move from?" he asked, his almost auburn eyes peeped to hers.

"A city called Roseburg in Oregon," Emma answered, glad he didn't notice she was staring at him again.

"Oregon," Stiles echoed, "Far. Did you like it there?"

Emma shrugged, smacking her lips. "Yeah," she mumbled, trying to think of another subject to bring up. "You've been living here your whole life?"

"Yup," he nodded, enunciating the 'p'. Stiles turned into a small street, slowing down. The car turned into a driveway, belonging to an ample red-bricked house.

"Is anyone home?"

"My dad's done work around 7, I think," he told her as he put the Jeep in park. It was evident his mother was not in the picture. She tamed her curiousity and didn't let herself ask about his mom.

She was at Stiles' house. Alone. The butterflies in her stomach went wild.