Thursday afternoon found me sitting in Allison's bedroom. We were both perched on her bed, staring at my phone between us, as we had been for at least ten minutes. I reached for the phone again, then pulled my hand back once more.
"I can't," I sighed for what must have been the fiftieth time. "I can't do it. Why can't you do it?"
"No," Allison replied firmly, crossing her arms over her chest. "I'm not calling him because this wasn't my idea. If you want Stiles to go to the dance with Lydia, you're gonna be the one telling him." I groaned, falling down so that my back bounced on the mattress. I did want Stiles to go with Lydia. Well, that wasn't quite true. What I wanted was for Stiles to be happy, and that meant going with Lydia. The formal was the next night, but I hadn't been able to muster up the courage to tell him yet. "You know you don't have to do this," Allison reminded me gently. "Stiles doesn't know yet, and neither does Lydia. The only people who know this is happening are you, me and Scott."
I closed my eyes with a sigh. Scott. I'd certainly gotten an earful from him. Allison had apparently gone over his house after we went shopping, wanting to thank him again for the necklace and voice her concerns about her family to someone else. But since she wasn't sure how to start off, she started rambling about the other part of our conversation—me backing out of my date with Stiles so he could take Lydia. Scott had been too distracted by Peter and his mother to lecture me when he saw me later, and then he'd had to save Jackson and been attacked by hunters. But once everything had calmed down on Monday, he'd suddenly remembered that he was supposed to be upset with me. He called me after school, visited me at work, texted me repeatedly, every time pleading that I would reconsider going with Stiles. He maintained that the "bro code" stopped him from saying anything specific, but informed me that as much as Stiles loved Lydia, he was really excited about going with me. I'd countered that if he really did want to go with me, he could always turn down the offer to go with Lydia. That, of course, had worried Scott. We both knew that there wasn't a chance in the universe that Stiles would turn down a date with Lydia. Scott and Allison both begged me not to leave it down to that, but I was resolved. Stiles didn't have to go with Lydia. If for some reason he wanted to go with me, he could. But I wasn't going to deprive him of the chance to live out his dream.
"No," I sighed, sitting up on the bed once more. "I do have to do this." I grabbed the phone and stood up, taking a deep breath as I scrolled through my contacts. I hesitated, staring at Stiles's name for a few more seconds before actually beginning the call. I hardly breathed as the phone rang, pacing anxiously at the foot of Allison's bed.
"Beacon Hills Lycanthrope Expert, what's your query?" Despite my nerves about the conversation to follow, I smirked.
"I thought you said that was me," I greeted, and I heard him chuckle on the other end.
"True. My apologies. What's up, Bennet?"
"Well, Stilinski," I started slowly. Allison pouted on the bed. She'd always said that Stiles and I calling each other by our last names was adorable, and apparently she couldn't bear to hear it at the moment. "Who's your best friend?"
"Scott," he answered immediately. I rolled my eyes. I really should have anticipated that answer.
"Okay, who is your best female friend?"
"I don't know," he pondered, though I could hear a smirk in his voice. "I'm pretty tight with Ashlea. Actually, no. I haven't talked to Heather in a while, but I've known her forever so…"
"Stiles," I said in a warning tone.
"What?" he laughed. "Best female friend is a big title. You've gotta earn it."
"Oh, and I haven't?" I countered. "Please, you wouldn't survive without me." I tried to keep it ambiguous, knowing I couldn't actually remind him about saving his ass from werewolves in front of Allison. But the chuckle over the phone let me know Stiles had completely understood what I was trying to say.
"Yeah, okay, I'd probably be dead," he conceded. "Why is this important?" I took another deep breath. This was the last moment I could turn back. I could just tell him I wanted to remind him and that I was going shopping for a dress in a little bit. I could ask him how much he'd hate me if I made him wear purple to formal. All I had to do was come up with an excuse. And then I'd have to deal with a less-than enthusiastic Stiles at the winter formal, staring at Lydia and continuing to wonder what it would be like to be her date. I wasn't ready to endure that.
"What would you say," I started slowly, "if I told you that you could go to the formal with Lydia?"
"Lydia?" he repeated. "As in your best friend Lydia Martin?"
"That's the one," I agreed weakly. Stiles laughed.
"I'd say it was very impolite of you to obtain such high quality drugs and not invite me over to share in your delusions." I chuckled feebly, running a hand through my hair.
"I'm not on drugs, Stiles," I replied. "I'm being serious."
"Cute, Sadie," he almost grumbled. "Why would the amazing girl I've had a crush on since I was eight suddenly decide after ten years of ignoring me to be my date to the winter formal?"
"Because she kissed Scott," I explained. Stiles scoffed.
"What?"
"Look, Allison found out about what happened that day," I elaborated. "And Lydia said she'd do anything to make it up to her. So, Allison's asking her to cancel her date with Mesman and go with you instead." There were a few seconds of solid silence on the other end of the phone.
"Seriously?"
"Yeah, Stiles, seriously," I assured him.
"Oh my God," he gasped. "Oh my God, you're being serious!"
"Yeah, Stiles," I sighed again.
"A-And she—she said yes?!" he stammered. "She said she'd do it?!"
"She doesn't really have a choice," I reminded him. "But she doesn't know yet. So don't go running over to our house with flowers just yet."
"O-Okay!" he agreed frantically. "Okay! Okay! Yes! I will—I will…! Oh my God, what am I gonna do? What am I supposed to do? W-When are you gonna tell her? Do I get her flowers? When should I pick her up?"
"Stiles!" I cut him off in annoyance, even though I'd been preparing myself for a similar response. "I don't know."
"Right. No. Sorry. I just…wow…"
"Look," I sighed tiredly, earning myself a sympathetic look from Allison. "We're meeting Lydia at the mall in like twenty minutes. I'll text you when we get there so we can meet up, and you can talk to her about all of the details then."
"Yes, that's—good plan. Thank you Sadie for that good plan."
"Right," I replied, narrowing my eyes at Allison's bedspread. "I'll see you later. Bye."
"Woah, woah, woah, wait!" Stiles called me back, so loudly I could hear him perfectly clear with the phone a foot away from my ear. "What about you?"
"What about me what?" I sighed.
"You know, since I'm going with Lydia, what are you gonna do?"
"I don't know, Stiles," I admitted, a little more edge in my voice that I'd intended. "Don't worry about it."
"No!" he objected, making my heart flutter pitifully. "Of course I'm gonna worry about it. I'm not just gonna abandon my awesome, previous date to formal without some sorta Plan B."
"Stiles, do you want to go with Lydia or not?" I snapped, rapidly becoming frustrated by his loyalty, which I hadn't factored into my plan.
"What? Yes! O-Of course I do, but…"
"Then I'll find another date," I assured him. "Or I'll go by myself. Whatever. I'll be fine." Stiles paused for a moment, obviously not very comforted by my argument.
"A-And you're fine with this?" he pressed. "I mean, you're okay with it if I go with Lydia?" I closed my eyes, taking a deep breath. He just had to ask. I didn't want to lie to him though, so I prepared to chose my words carefully.
"Stiles," I sighed. "I know that you're crazy about her. You deserve a chance with her, and I'm not gonna stand in the way of you and your dream girl. Besides," I added as an after thought, trying to hide my bitterness. "We were just going as friends anyway."
"Yeah," he agreed after a few seconds. "I mean, if you're sure then, then awesome. Thank you."
"Stiles, you don't need to thank me," I laughed forcibly. "If anything you can thank Allison."
"No, well I mean, thanks for being cool with it, and thanks for calling me, and thanks for being awesome. You know, cause you're awesome and—and Lydia's awesome, and this whole thing is freaking awesome."
"Awesome," I conceded with a small smile. "I'm gonna go though. I'll text you when we get to the mall."
"Yeah! Awesome! Okay, no, I'm gonna stop saying awesome now. Just—thanks, Bennet." The use of my last name made me wince, and I actually felt myself crumbling from the inside out.
"See ya, Stilinski," I said quickly, before quickly ending the call. I raised a hand to my mouth, fingernails digging into my cheek as I tried to keep myself together. Allison jumped off her bed, rushing over and pulling me into a hug.
"Hey, it's okay," she whispered soothingly. She tugged me over to the bed, sitting next to me on the end and rubbing my back gently as I tried to keep my breathing even. We sat in silence like that for a few minutes. Allison may not have known what to say, but I found that I was profoundly thankful for her presence. I knew that she hadn't wanted me to go through with the plan in the first place. She'd wanted Stiles and I to get together since before I even realized I liked him myself. But I knew that now I'd followed through on my decision, Allison would be there to support me and help me through it. There was no turning back now, so we'd just have to make due.
"Okay," I finally whispered hoarsely. "Let's…Let's just go."
"Okay," she echoed quietly. "I've just gotta grab something. Stay here, okay?" I nodded silently, wrapping my arms around my waist as Allison patted my shoulder and dashed out of the room. I sat there quietly for a few moments before flopping back onto the bed once more. I closed my eyes, trying to concentrate on my breathing until Allison returned. Unfortunately, I was interrupted by a knock on the door.
"Can I come in?" Kate's voice called. I folded my arms over my head.
"Allison's not in here," I informed her.
"Well, I'm coming in anyway," she replied brightly, opening the door without invitation. Kate strode inside in all her glory, head held high and looking even more confident than she usually did. She wore a pale purple tank top and a leather jacket, thin black jeans that ran down her legs into black boots. She was grinning mischievously, an expression I probably would have described as the cat that caught the canary. I tried not to think about Scott's story of Saturday night. How he'd gone to the Hale house to stop Derek from killing Jackson, but ended up stumbling away with a gunshot wound while Derek attempted to hold off the hunters. I attempted to suppress the image Kate holding him hostage, torturing him, maybe killing him. She didn't know that I knew about werewolves, and I had to keep it that way. And Scott was sure that Derek was still alive.
Her smile faltered just slightly when she saw my position on the bed. She recomposed herself, pouting thoughtfully as she crossed her arms over her chest.
"Okay, what's with the depressing corpse pose, kiddo?" I sighed piteously as she walked closer to the bed.
"Boys suck," I groaned childishly. Kate smiled knowingly.
"You still going on about this Stiles kid?" I nodded, covering my eyes with a hand so I might be able to block out the world. "What's wrong?"
"Everything," I grumbled vaguely. I felt the bed shift as Kate took Allison's vacated seat next to me.
"And by 'everything' do you mean how he's still hung up on your best friend and doesn't seem to have any qualms whatsoever about ditching you to go to the formal with her?" I lifted my hand from my face, looking at her in confusion.
"He had some qualms," I defended. "How did you…?"
"Besides what you told me?" she interrupted. "Allison and I had a…really long talk last weekend after you girls went shopping."
"About my pitiful love life?" I questioned. Kate shrugged.
"Among other things," she replied. She looked away, smiling fondly at the memory of the conversation. I quirked an eyebrow. What was that supposed to mean? Kate caught my confused look and sighed. "In her defense," she diffused. "She really didn't know what to do about you asking her to break up your date. She wanted to know what I thought she should do, since she obviously wanted you to go with him."
"What'd you tell her?" I asked, heaving myself back up into a sitting position and clasping my hands in my lap.
"Well, you're not going with him, right?" she reminded me with a smile. I tossed my head to the side, nodding tiredly. "I told her that I thought you were right." I glanced hopefully over at her small grin. "It's not gonna be the date you want if he's tripping over his feet to see your friend. You don't need to be attached to that by being his date. You're perfectly capable of having fun with your friends and being gorgeous without him." She poked me in the side, making me grin grudgingly.
"Yeah, well being right sucks," I muttered. Kate scrunched up her face comically, tossing her head back and forth as she considered my assessment.
"Eh, once in a blue moon," she replied with a smirk. "But I generally enjoy rubbing my superiority in other people's faces." I smirked at the very Kate statement. "You could always taze him," she offered, making me laugh.
"I don't think that'd go over really well in the middle of the dance floor," I disputed. "Besides, he's already kind of twitchy. I'd hate to see him electrocuted."
"Well you've gotta do something!" Kate argued, slapping her hands on her thighs. "You can't just sit around moping like this over some guy. That's not the kickass Miss Sadie Bennet I know."
"What did you have in mind?" I asked quietly with a smirk. Kate grinned.
"The same thing you had in mind when Allison dumped Scott," she explained with a wolfish smile. "How about you and Allison go meet up with Lydia and your supremely oblivious ex-date at the mall, pick out a drop dead sexy dress that will make Stiles wish he were lucky enough to take you, and then you, my lovely niece and I can hit the range."
"I don't know," I contemplated with a small smile, looking down at my lap. Kate scoffed.
"Oh, please. Do you have something better to do? Are you going home to gorge yourself one ice cream and watch, like Pretty in Pink to prep for the dance or something?"
"Carrie, actually," I corrected with a smirk. Kate rolled her eyes.
"Well at least you've still got your humor," she commended. "Come on. I've gotta keep Allison's shooting sharp, and you clearly need to blow off some steam. Doesn't have to be too long. I've got a, uh…friend I gotta catch up with anyway." She smiled at her own private joke, and I had to repress another image of Derek chained up somewhere dark, bruised and bloodied. When she continued to look at me expectantly, I relented.
"Okay, sure," I gave in, nodding firmly. "I guess I'd feel a little better after messing around with some powerful firearms."
"Trust me, honey," she chuckled, pulling me to my feet. "If you're anything like me, you're gonna feel miles better. Now, scoot! Allison's waiting downstairs." She ushered me out into the hall, pushing me towards the stairs. I paused, peering over the banister at Allison, who was indeed standing with her purse by the front door. She smiled tentatively up at me, and I glanced back at Kate.
"I thought she was just grabbing something?" I asked. Kate shrugged.
"Hey, don't look at me. Just go get your cute little asses to the mall and pick out a pair of dresses that'll make their jaws drop." She punctuated the order with a wink, making me shake my head but follow the instructions regardless. Feeling marginally better, I followed Allison's lead to her car, steeling myself for the impending conversation I'd be having with Lydia.
When we pulled into the parking lot, I sent a text to Lydia and to Stiles to let them know we'd arrived. Lydia had taken a few minutes to text us back with her location, while it'd hardly taken ten seconds for Stiles to send me a hurried, misspelled chunk of text assuring me that he'd pretty much been sitting in the parking lot since he got off the phone with me. I sighed.
"Are you sure you're ready for this?" Allison asked gently. I nodded, deciding not to reply to Stiles and text Scott instead. He'd wanted me to keep him updated on Allison's whereabouts, since he suspected Peter might be trying to go after her. I'd been spending a lot of time with her to keep her safe, and I knew that Scott had been awkwardly stalking her from a distance in case the Alpha showed up.
"Honestly?" I sighed, slipping the phone back into my purse and straightening my dress. "I just want to get it over with at this point." Allison nodded, and we climbed out of the car to begin our search for Lydia.
"Finally!" she squealed happily when we met her on the first floor of Macy's. "Guys, this is dress shopping! Try and look a little more excited!" I gave her a double thumbs up, pulling on a painfully large smile that made Allison giggle and Lydia glare at me. "There's no need to be sarcastic," she snapped, and I relaxed.
"Lydia, there's always a need to be sarcastic. It's a fundamental quality of my personality."
"One I really wish I could have weeded out of you," she commented wistfully before turning on her heel. "Come on! Formal wear is on level two!" Allison sent me another cautious side glance, and I nodded to her discreetly. I was ready.
"Are you two alright?" Lydia asked as we piled onto the escalator. "You're awfully quiet, and quiet is not a desirable quality in best friends going formal shopping."
"Perfectly fine," I assured her, fiddling with the hem of my dress. "Just trying to figure out what I want still." Lydia turned expectantly to Allison.
"Nothing's wrong," she replied, though her voice seemed so tired at that moment even I wasn't sure if I believed her. "I just…I have a lot on my mind."
"You could smile at least," she suggested, crossing her legs and leaning on the railing. "Ever hear the saying, 'Never frown. Someone could be falling in love with your smile'?"
"Excuse me," I interrupted. "You stole that from a fortune cookie and you know it." Lydia glared at me playfully over her shoulder.
"Smile, girls," she ordered. "I'm buying you both dresses."
"I have to admit, as far as apologies go, that's more than I expected," Allison offered, staring down at her feet.
"Excellent," Lydia replied, standing up a little straighter and smiling proudly. Until Allison continued.
"But not as much as I'm gonna ask."
"What?" Lydia asked, her voice slightly shrill. "What's that supposed to mean?"
"It means," Allison began slowly. She glanced at me once more and I nodded encouragingly. She sighed reluctantly and turned back to Lydia. "You're going to cancel on whatever dumb, roided-up jock you said 'yes' to, and you're going to go with someone else."
"Who?" Lydia asked nervously as we finally stepped onto the second floor. Allison turned to face her, glancing over her shoulder at Stiles, who was already in position.
"Him." Lydia followed her eyes over to the perfume station, and we all paused to watch Stiles. He was leaning on the counter, looking at one of the test bottles with mild interest. He must have been holding just a tad too tight, because he promptly sprayed himself in the face. He dropped the bottle back on the counter, stumbling back as he spluttered and sneezed. I smiled, my giggles wavering just as much as the butterflies in my stomach. Stiles looked up, beaming when he saw us, and threw up an awkward wave.
"Who?" Lydia asked. "I only see Stiles."
"Yeah," Allison informed her with a nod. "That's who you're going with."
"What?!" Lydia hissed. "No!" I watched as Stiles's grin faltered a few yards away. He didn't need to be able to hear us to realize that Lydia's reaction hadn't been a good one. I quickly stepped between them, turning my back on Stiles so I could face my best friend head on.
"Lydia, listen," I began calmly, but she'd crossed her arms over her chest and was glaring at me.
"No!" she replied adamantly. "No! I am not taking your date from you! You're supposed to be excited you're going with him! You were excited you were going with him!"
"Yeah, well, he wasn't," I snapped, cutting off her tirade. Lydia shut her mouth, looking at me with annoyed sympathy. "Lydia, please," I begged. "Stiles has liked you forever. He's a fantastic guy, and I know that he will make sure this dance is everything you want it to be. He deserves a chance."
"Well I think you deserve a chance!" she countered quietly. "Because I think you're an amazing person who's been tripping herself up over this guy trying to get him to notice her, and I know that you'd be perfect for the idiot! So why isn't this about him giving you a chance?!"
"Because I have the power get him a chance with you," I explained. "And even if he did go with me, he'd just be wishing I was you." Lydia pouted, glancing over my shoulder at Stiles once more. "Please, Lydia," I implored again, "You're not snatching away a willing date. You're saving me from a night of being ignored when I should be happy… You're my best friend. Please just do this for me."
"I cannot believe you just used the best friend card," she huffed, stomping slightly.
"Actually, this is you making it up to me," Allison stepped in, backing me up. "And I had to make something up to Sadie, so she got to choose what you had to do." Lydia glared between the two of us, but the ferocity deteriorated with every glance, until she looked over my shoulder once more. Finally, she sighed.
"He better be like the best date on the planet," she conceded, and I smiled.
"He's fantastic," I assured her, making her roll her eyes.
"I already know you think that, Sadie," she groaned. I grinned, grabbing her wrist and towing her over to the perfume counter where Stiles was rocking back and forth on the balls of his feet.
"Lydia," I began, turning her to face him. "Your date Stiles. Stiles, your date Lydia." Stiles looked like he was ready to faint just hearing the phrase. He chuckled nervously, waving his arms excitedly once more. At a stern look from Allison, he clasped his hands, trying to keep them under control as he held them in front of him.
"Hey, Lydia," he greeted shakily. "I—I know you may not exactly want to go with me, but I just want to say thank you and I promise I'm gonna…"
"Sh!" Lydia cut him off, holding up a single finger to silence him. The pale boy nearly choked himself as he immediately swallowed the rest of his sentence. "Yes, I've been informed that you'll be a perfect gentleman," she replied, glaring at me slightly. "So you can start by carrying all of my dresses. Try and keep up." Without waiting for a reply, she turned on her heel, marching over to the dress section with her head held high. Stiles stared after her in awe, frozen until I tapped him on the shoulder.
"She's not joking. You—You should probably follow her," I advised. Stiles jumped a bit, as if he'd momentarily forgotten that Allison and I were there.
"Right!" he declared, nodding fervently as he turned to face Allison and I. "You are right. Sadie, Allison. Thank you. You—You are right. You are awesome. You are perfect."
"I know," I cut him off, holding up a hand. "Now go show her that you are." Stiles smiled warmly at me for just a few more seconds before he scampered off after Lydia. I watched him go, Allison wrapping an arm around my shoulders.
"You okay?" she asked with concern.
"Yeah," I answered with a small smile. "That actually…went a lot better than I was expecting it to."
"Come on," she urged, tugging me over to a different section of formal dresses. "Let's just find something and get out of here."
Though we'd been searching for what felt like ages and thousands of trips to the mall, I wasn't that much closer to deciding what I wanted to wear to the dance. I'd finally decided against purple, since it was something I knew I looked good in and wore all the time. I wanted to try something different, but I wasn't quite sure what I meant by that. Lydia had banned both black and white, mandating that I had wear an "actual color." I was planning on something blue at the moment, but none of those dresses had caught my eye and fit as well. The ones that fit I didn't like. It was a vicious cycle that made me hate dress shopping when I actually needed a dress.
"So, have you thought about what you're going to do about the dance?" Allison asked conversationally a few minutes later, standing on the opposite side of the rack I was looking through.
"Well," I mused, "I thought I might show up and dance with my friends. Maybe wear like a dress or something." Allison rolled her eyes, glaring at me playfully.
"You know what I mean," she replied. "I mean it's completely fine if you want to go by yourself, but since Lydia's going with Stiles and I'm going with Jackson…" She giggled slightly as I pulled a disgusted face and gagged at the mention of the lacrosse captain's name. She knew that I suddenly had a terrible grudge against him, but as far as she was concerned it was only me playing the role of Lydia's best friend. I had to hate him on principal because he dumped her, but Allison knew nothing specific about how vile, arrogant and shallow I thought he was. So instead of confronting me about it, she brushed off my reaction. "I didn't know if you'd feel weird going by yourself."
"I've thought about it a little," I replied vaguely. Allison paused, staring down at a dress she'd pulled out with an expression that said she wasn't really looking at it.
"You could take Scott," she offered quietly. "I mean, Lydia's taking your date, and I'm taking hers. It kinda makes sense you'd take mine, right?"
"Thanks. That's sweet," I responded with a small smile. "I don't know. I'll keep it in mind, but I don't think Scott wants to go with anyone that's not you." That thought made Allison smile, though she tried to hide it behind a curtain of hair. We turned back to shopping, moving on to the next rack to look through. "Actually," I began thoughtfully as Lydia marched past us on her way to the dressing room, Stiles in tow with what looked like twenty dresses in his arms. "I was thinking about maybe asking Isaac Lahey." I cringed as Stiles yelped behind me. Judging by the clatter and the look of mild concern on Allison's face as she looked over my shoulders, he'd tripped into one of the dress racks and was flailing to regain his balance. As amusing as the image was in my head, I decided not to turn around. Noticing my complete lack of response, Allison hurried to continue the conversation.
"Isaac Lahey?" she repeated, raising her eyebrows. "Do I know him?"
"Probably not," I replied with a small smile. "He kind of keeps to himself. He lives across the street from your vile formal date." Allison nodded.
"And when you say that, do you mean you wanna ask him to go with you, or that you want him to be your date?"
"Probably just come with me," I clarified, thoughtful look crossing over my face as I picked up a sea foam green dress. Allison shook her head, taking the dress out of my hands and putting back on the rack as a reject. "I mean, he's kind of cute, but he's also ridiculously shy. I'm not sure he'd go at all if someone doesn't ask him to."
"Well I think that's sweet," Allison commended with a smile, tugging me over to the next section of dresses. She picked up a short dress, the chest black with a red ribbon under the bust, while the rest of the skirt seemed to be made of white feathers. I scrunched my nose up in distaste, making Allison pout. "No? I mean I know the feathers look a little weird…" She adjusted the mirror in front of us so she could hold the dress up, and cut her sentence off with a gasp. I turned to her in alarm, looking around until I spotted what had caused her to be so jumpy.
Peter Hale stood just a few feet away, watching us intently from behind. He looked unassuming enough, even innocent, but the sight of him still made my blood run cold. I momentarily lost sight of all our surroundings, flashing back to my dream at the hospital. "You'll be stronger, more agile, more beautiful. Maybe even beautiful enough to compete with Lydia." Then he'd pounced, eyes glowing red, teeth bared, ripping into my side…
"That's not your color." Peter's voice snapped me back to reality. He'd walked closer while I'd been in a panicked daze, taking our sudden realization of his presence as an invitation to join us. And I hadn't tried to do a thing about it. I cursed at myself in my head, helpless as Allison glanced awkwardly between Peter's placid face and the dress in her hands. "Sorry if that was intrusive," he amended. "But considering your skin tone, I'd go lighter." His seemingly harmless comment put Allison a little more at ease, and she smiled awkwardly even as I stepped closer to her.
"Because I'm pale?" she asked.
"Fair," Peter corrected with kind smile. "Well, you can't call skin like yours pale. Not skin that perfect."
"Okay?" Allison laughed nervously, putting the dress back on the rack.
"Trust me," he pressed on, turning his gaze to me as Allison stared down at her feet. "I have a…unique perspective on the subject." He winked at me, as if I was supposed to enjoy his inside joke about being a burn invalid before he began murdering people. Instead of laughing, I narrowed my eyes at him, causing him to raise a challenging eyebrow. "Do you mind?" Before I could stop him, Peter had snatched up Allison's hand, grabbing a nearby silver dress to compare it to. Allison looked to me fearfully, attempting to shrug away without being rude. "See? Much better." I stepped forward protectively, snatching both Allison's hand and the hanger out of Peter's grasp.
"Wow, thanks," I cheered when I'd finally found my voice, pushing the dress into Allison's hands. "God, that looks great. Who knew Macy's hired such great, invasive fashion consultants? Let's go try it on." I linked my arm with hers, attempting to pull her away, but Peter took a step to the side and blocked my path.
"And, what about you?" he asked, his voice dangerously calm. "Are you looking for a dress?"
"No," I replied sharply, but Allison had contradicted me by nodding. She stopped abruptly when she heard my denial, but Peter had already received his answer. He smiled knowingly, rocking back on his heels.
"Ah. High school dance?"
"Formal," Allison answered timidly. Peter practically beamed.
"Well, then you're going to need the perfect dress," he pointed out, turning back to me.
"Thanks," I snapped, "but as fun as this has been, I've already got my best friend for meddlesome fashion advice so I'm not really looking for any help."
"Sadie," Allison hissed scornfully, but Peter simply smirked. It was infuriating. The only thing I felt I could do to fight was to stand up to him, but the more confident and snarky I was, the happier Peter seemed to be. I didn't want him to be pleased. I wanted him to be pissed.
"I understand," he conceded with a small nod. "I'll just say I think you'd look lovely in a…blood red?" He'd phrased it as a helpful question, but I'd frozen just the same, frightened to the core by the hidden threat. Before I'd composed myself enough to reply, the music playing on the stereo system throughout the store paused for an announcement.
"Attention shoppers. The owner of a blue Mazda, license plate 5UN I768, your car is being towed…"
"Did she just say blue Mazda?" Allison gasped. "Oh my god, that's my car! I'll be right back!" She shoved the dress into my hands and dashed away towards the escalator. She was safe, but had consequently left me alone with the Alpha of my nightmares. Literally.
"That was good," he complimented once he'd recovered from the slight shock of his target running away. "You kids make such a good team, don't you?"
"Yup," I agreed nervously. "Like Bat Squad good." Peter chuckled, taking a step towards me. Despite how hard I tried to fight it, I involuntarily took a step back, trying to keep myself from imagining him with red eyes, the pointed teeth… Peter smirked victoriously.
"I know you're there, Scott," he said evenly. He was still looking at me, talking at me while he spoke to Scott, who was no doubt hidden in the store somewhere nearby. I knew there was nothing he could do to help me, but a part of me still wished he'd come running in to fend Peter off. "I have to say, I continue to be impressed with your ingenuity," Peter commended. "Just remember…you can't be everywhere all the time. Even when you do have your lovely assistants to help." Peter smiled widely at me, tilting his head to the side as if her were admiring a unique painting rather than a teenage girl. "I know that you don't want to hear this, Sadie, but I sincerely admire your bravery…and your attitude." He chuckled slightly, taking another step closer. This time I was able to hold my ground. "Or maybe, you just don't want to hear it from me," he whispered conspiringly. He glanced over his shoulder, and I followed his gaze to the dressing rooms. Stiles was sitting on a couch outside, half-buried under a mountain of dresses that Lydia had picked out for herself. Even from this distance I could see his leg bouncing nervously as he waited for her to emerge, the tick causing the entire mound of fabric to jolt with each beat. My heart sank. Peter knowing about my feelings for Stiles had been terrifying enough in my dream. I didn't need him taunting me about it while I was awake as well. But once again, Peter didn't wait for me to recover before replying. "I wasn't being facetious when I told you you'd look good in red," he added. "A darker, blood red or scarlet would look much better on you than, say, cherry red. Here." Peter seemed to produce a dress out of thin air, pulling it off one of the racks so quickly and silently I hardly saw the movement at all. He pressed the dress into my hands with a smirk. "A passionate color for a passionate girl. And I think it will highlight that flush of yours if you and your date manage to get into any, er, trouble." I knew there was another threat in his statement, a warning, but I didn't seem to be able to comment on it.
"He's not my date anymore," I snapped, as if that were pertinent information. Peter smirked rolling his eyes.
"Because that matters when you're a teenager," he scoffed. "Please, Sadie, I'm not as old as you might think I am. I remember what it's like to be in high school." For some reason, this comment was even more unsettling than the threat. Not because I was concerned about Peter's age, but because he just seemed so at ease. Like he was honestly just some friendly adult talking to me about my boy problems and not a murderous werewolf who wanted my friends dead.
"Why are you doing this?" I asked quietly. I was sure why I asked, or what I even meant by it. Was I asking about the murderers? About Scott? About our would-be-casual conversation? What was I expecting to accomplish by asking in the first place? But the question did manage to knock Peter off his game. His smiled fell away, leaving his face completely blank, almost contemplative.
"Because something was taken from me," he explained calmly. "And I wish more than anything that I could get it back." That was apparently as much of an answer as I was allowed, because after that Peter composed his face into a smile once more. "At least try the dress on. I promise it will look good." He gave me a short nod before finally backing away. "I'm sure I'll see you tomorrow, Sadie. I may not be able to resist the temptation of a good party." Without another word, he turned around and walked away. I watched him go, still standing completely frozen with the two dresses in my hands and wondering what that was supposed to mean. I didn't snap out of it until Scott came dashing up to me, quickly grabbing my shoulders.
"Hey, Sadie, are you okay?"
"Yeah, yeah," I assured him, shaking my head slightly. "I'm fine. He just creeps me out is all."
"Look, I wish I could stay to make sure you're okay, but Allison…"
"I know," I assured him, shrugging his hands off and waving him towards the escalator. "Go keep her safe. Go!" Scott nodded in appreciation before dashing away to keep an eye on his ex girlfriend. Shopping mood suddenly zapped out of me, I trudged over to the dressing room to stand behind Stiles. "You alive under there?" I asked, prodding a protruding piece of teal taffeta.
"I was hoping you could tell me," he replied, voice muffled by the silver dress he hand thrown over his face as he rested his head back on the edge of the couch. "I can't decide if I'm in heaven or hell."
"Well, you should probably start by opening your eyes," I giggled, moving the dress off his face to an emptier part of the couch. His eyelashes fluttered as he opened his eyes, staring up into my face upside down.
"Solid advice," he countered after a moment, grinning slightly. I smiled in return, but before I could respond Lydia came bursting out of the dressing room.
"What about this one?" she asked, staring down at the sleek aquamarine dress she was wearing. "And if you say 'they all look great' one more time, so help me God," she grumbled. She paused, sighing in relief when she looked up and spotted me. "Sadie! Fantastic! What do you think about this dress?"
"Nice color," I commented, tilting my head to the side. "But that skirt could look thousands of times better. Pass." Lydia beamed.
"See? Now that is helpful. What do you have?"
"Hm?" I looked down and realized I was still holding the two dresses the Peter had picked out, neither of which I was intending on purchasing. "Oh, nothing actually. I was just going to put these back."
"Without trying them on?" Lydia scolded. "No. Absolutely not. Here. Now." I groaned, reluctantly walking around the couch so Lydia could snatch up my wrist and drag me into the dressing room with her. As an after thought, she grabbed the discarded dress from her stall and dashed back out to dump them on Stiles. "Could you put those back?" she asked sweetly. Then, without waiting for an answer, she scooped up the dresses she hadn't tried on yet and stormed back into the hall.
"Lyd, you can't just abuse him as a pack mule," I scolded half-heartedly. The sight of Stiles drowning in layer upon layer of tulle was too amusing for me to be truly upset. Lydia rolled her eyes.
"Of course I can. That's what he's here for," she argued, shoving several dresses into my hands and spinning me towards my own stall. "Besides, I don't need his opinion anymore because you're here. Try on the pink and black one first." She shoved me into the room, snapping the door closed behind me and leaving no room for argument.
Reluctantly, I conceded to letting Lydia dress me up like a paper doll. The pink and black one was too poufy, the yellow one and the blue one too short, and the teal dress had a neckline that just didn't work with my figure. It went on and on and on. Eventually, Allison rejoined up, informing me with relief that the announcement about her car had been a false alarm. Then she joined our game of dress up, modeling and critiquing with Lydia and me.
Over an hour later, Lydia and Allison had both decided on their dresses. Lydia had chosen a short, strapless dress, champagne pink fabric bisected by a thick black ribbon under her bust with a decorative jewel placed to the side. Allison had opted to go with the silver dress the "weirdo fashion stylist" had picked out for her, which was simple, silver and ruffled. Lydia had finally agreed to purchase it for her, but only after they'd found a ridiculously large, jeweled necklace to dress it up with. Now they were both lounging on the couch in boredom, waiting for me to find a dress that we all agreed on. Lydia kept Stiles busy running dresses back to their original spots, making sure he was never in sight when I emerged in a new dress.
"I don't know guys," I groaned, tugging on the bottom of the too-short green dress I was currently sporting. "Maybe I'll just re-wear that purple one from…"
"No!" Lydia practically screeched, cutting off the rest of my suggestion and making a few wandering customers look our way. "No, no, no! Absolutely not! No re-wearing! That's blasphemous." Allison looked like she might have laughed if she weren't so tired of sitting around. I, on the other hand, groaned in annoyance.
"Lydia, I really don't care," I tried to reason, but she was adamant.
"No. Here, try this one on, and if that doesn't work we'll move to a different store." She held out another hanger, and I instantly recognized the sleek red fabric of the dress Peter had given me. I eyed the item apprehensively, but Lydia simply stood up, thrust the hanger into my hands and pushed me into the dressing room. "Go!" Reluctantly, I obeyed, if only to keep Lydia from crossing the line of physical abuse. I tried not to think about Peter as I changed into the dress, tried not to think about how it was red like his Alpha eyes that cropped up in my nightmares. I slipped into the outfit on autopilot, zipping up the back and then walking back outside.
"Okay," I sighed dejectedly, holding my hands out before they dropped limply to my sides. "Whatchya think?" Allison and Lydia both glanced over and stopped. Allison lowered her phone, a huge smile slowly growing over her face. Ever the opposite, Lydia immediately squealed, jumping up from the couch and dashing over to me.
"Oh my God! Why didn't we try this one first?!" she gushed. She scampered around me to get a panoramic view, the action reminding me of some sort of hyperactive vulture. "Come here." Lydia grabbed my hand, dragging me over to the mirror and then positioning me in front of it with her hands on my shoulders. Allison quickly joined us, and I took my first real look at the dress Peter had picked out for me.
How he had known my size was beyond me, and I wasn't sure I really wanted to know. But however he had managed it, the dress fit like a glove. It was strapless, just as Allison's and Lydia's were, and the skirt reached far enough down my thigh to look flirty at least. The fabric was dark red, not quite flat, but almost shimmering as I twisted and turned in the light. There was ruching on the bodice, making vertical folds over the bust and horizontal ones around the torso and waist. The skirt flared out from my hips, multiple layers of semi-sheer fabric making it look like a formalwear tutu. As much as I hated to admit it, the dress was gorgeous, and I did feel prettier in this dress than I had all day. Lydia fluffed the skirt, giggling like a schoolgirl.
"That's it. That's what you're wearing."
"I don't know," I mused, twisting back and forth in the mirror. I knew that it was perfect, but there was a large part of me that wanted to refuse it for the sole reason that Peter had chosen it. Allison looked at me in surprise, while Lydia looked downright horrified.
"Why not?" Allison asked, sounding almost concerned. "Sadie, you look fantastic."
"You look hot," Lydia emphasized. "And I'm the one buying the dress, so that's what you're wearing. That's final. Now, go get changed so we can move onto shoes." She shooed me back into the stall, and I could hear her and Allison chatting about shoes and accessory possibilities as I changed back into my normal clothes. When I reemerged with the handful of hangers, my red dress tucked in along with the various rejects, I discovered that Stiles had rejoined the group.
"Hey," he greeted with a grin. "So, uh, what are you getting?" Before I could reply, Lydia snatched the bouquet of party dresses out of my hands.
"You're not allowed to know," she snapped, tucking the pile under her arm this time instead of handing him the discards as she had all day. Stiles raised his eyebrows.
"Wh-Why?" he asked, glancing around between the three of us as if he was missing a piece of the puzzle. But even though Allison was smirking slightly, I was just as confused. "Sadie's not even my date." I opened my mouth to describe the dress, but Allison grabbed my wrist and Lydia instantly shot me one of her highest-degree glares.
"Uh…sorry," I offered instead. "Guess it's a surprise." Stiles rolled his eyes.
"Ugh. You suck."
"I'll bet you wish she did," Lydia commented promptly. Stiles made a choking sound and my jaw dropped as Allison was overcome with giggles. Lydia smiled brightly, sending me a wink that I prayed Stiles couldn't see. "I'll meet you in the shoe department," she dismissed, tossing her hair over her shoulder and marching over to the register to pay for my dress. Stiles and I gaped after her, too petrified to actually look at each other. Only Allison's poorly smothered giggles broke me out of my daze. I took a deep breath through my nose, trying to prepare myself to act as if the comment hadn't fazed me.
"Shoe department," I grumbled, grabbing Allison's arm tightly and dragging her away towards the opposite end of the store.
"Wait, what?" Stiles asked, dashing after us. "We're not done shopping?" The innocent comment made me smirk.
"Oh, Stiles. So young and naïve," I sighed, shaking my head at him. "We're no where near done. It's gonna be a while."
It was, indeed, a long time before we were cleared to leave the mall. Lydia refused to accept the idea that we could wear shoes that we already owned, or jewelry, or purses, or wraps, or even perfume for that matter. Stiles, whose opinion was no longer needed as Allison, Lydia and I were sticking together, trudged along behind us looking consistently grumpy. But as he wasn't quite ready to leave Lydia's company yet, he had no choice but to follow us from store to store, listening to our gossip and advice and girl talk. My sympathy got the better of me every now and then, and I'd step away from Allison and Lydia to talk to him for a bit, but Lydia would eventually drag me away, glaring at Stiles slightly. I didn't reprimand her though. I knew she was upset about having to go with him, not necessarily because she was actually going with him, but because she knew that something about him had made me feel like I wasn't good enough to go with him. That frustrated her, and I could see her taking out that frustration on him by ordering him around and trying her best to keep him away from me. Really, she was enacting the advice I'd gotten from Kate but was too weak to actually act one. Stop giving Stiles so much of your attention, and you'll catch his.
Hours later, we helped Lydia pack our bags into her car. Or rather, we all watched as Stiles did it for us. I'd already told Lydia that I was going to continue hanging out with Allison for a while, and that we were going out with her aunt to blow off some steam. We invited her to join us, but at the mention of shooting, Lydia had firmly declined. She was still extremely weirded out by the fact that Allison seemed to be a perfect marksman, and while she'd never seen me shoot, I knew it was something she didn't care to think about. So we all went our separate ways once more, Allison and I heading to her blue Mazda while Stiles stuck around to discuss the details of his date with Lydia. We had all silently agreed that was a conversation I did not need to hear.
When we arrived back at Allison's house, I helped her bring her purchases up to her room. There was a short show for Allison's family so they could see what she bought before Kate whisked us out of the house. This time we were "going to see a movie." That gave us a solid three-hour time block to get to the range and shoot out our nerves and frustrations. Well, I was pretty sure I was the only one who was shooting out of nerves and frustrations. Kate and Allison would be shooting for constructive practice, to actually get better, on top of the fact that Kate clearly just enjoyed shooting things like I enjoyed painting.
This time, I didn't stick around in the archery section of the deserted range. Instead, I headed straight over to firearms, letting Kate and Allison have their short family chat about what Allison could do better and why she had to stay on her game. I didn't even wait for Kate before I unzipped the duffle bag and started loading the first gun I could get my hands on. I walked over to the booth, putting on the headset and glasses and taking a deep breath while I aimed down the lane. I spent a few minutes adjusting my own body calibrations, until I was shooting center consistently enough. But even after nearly four whole rounds, I was still feeling slightly depressed and jittery. I turned back to the bag to try out a different gun, jumping slightly when I noticed that Kate had joined me.
"Well if your boy was that target, I think you'd probably have solved all of your problems by now," Kate chucked. I replied with a small smile and a shrug, disarming the gun and tossing it back into the bag before plopping down onto the bench next to her.
"Wish it was that simple," I grumbled, crossing my arms over my chest and leaning my head back on the wall. Kate watched me for a few seconds before she mirrored my actions.
"You know, I think it's good you're not going with him," she reminded me. "Go have fun without him! Show him you don't need him around to have a good time."
"Easier said than done," I replied gloomily. "I don't even know who I'm going with."
"Go by yourself," she suggested. "You don't need some guy to hang onto to have a nice night. I mean, unless you can snag a hottie to make Stiles jealous."
"Nah," I chuckled, shaking my head. "I don't think that's the way his brain works."
"Then who cares?" she replied with a smile. "You're a big girl. You're pretty, you're funny, you're smart. Girls like us don't need a man to take care of them." I raised my eyebrows slightly, smirking and nodding in agreement. "You know," she commented after a few seconds. "You remind me a lot of me at your age."
"Really?" I asked, my head lolling to the side to look at her. I knew Allison had said that we were similar, that Kate and I had the same sense of humor and got along great, but hearing her actually say it was different. Kate seemed to have everything in her life under control, and hearing that someone so capable and kick ass thought the same of me seemed like a huge compliment.
"I wasn't always so old and crazy," she laughed, sensing my surprise. "I was just like you when I was in high school. Smart girl, too smart to be completely innocent." She winked and I giggled slightly. "My family was super weird, and for a while…I was a little self conscious about it. You know, back when I thought there was such a thing as 'normal' and that I didn't fit the bill. But I got over it. And when I did, you know, I was a lot better off. I can do a lot of things better than most people, and just because they're not things that everyone else does doesn't mean they're not awesome." I nodded in understanding. It was obvious to me that Kate was talking about the confidence she'd gained from hunting, though she didn't know I knew that. As far as Kate was concerned, we were just having a conversation about egos and my insecurities.
"And then you achieved true happiness?" I joked. Kate laughed, shaking her head.
"Actually, then I achieved cockiness," she replied. "I went through a sort of rebellious stage."
"Stage?" I asked, cocking an eyebrow. Kate laughed heartily, throwing her head back for a few seconds before she composed herself.
"Okay, so I'm still not exactly obedient, but it's the right kind of rebellious," she defended. "Back then I was just doing it for the hell of it. Fighting with my dad, ignoring all of his advice, his rules." She paused, staring down the lane as if she were watching her earlier self on a screen before her eyes. "For a long time I forgot that just because being different isn't always bad doesn't mean it's always good. I started hanging out with the wrong people, dating guys my dad didn't approve of."
"Convicted felons?" I offered with a smirk. Kate chuckled lightly.
"Not exactly. But there was this one guy in particular that I got kinda hung up on. He and my dad hated each other, but I guess we just didn't really care. I figured it was my life and if I trusted him then my dad would just have to get used to it… And I did. I did trust him, despite everything that my dad said. I just kept saying he was different, and he didn't want to hurt me… Until he did."
"What happened?" I asked tentatively. Kate sighed.
"He lost one his friends, some hunting accident in the woods," she dismissed. "Put him really on edge. And when I tried to comfort him he just started screaming at me, completely flipped out and nearly killed me." There was a long morose silence, something I was definitely not used to experiencing around Kate.
"Sounds like it was his time of the month," I joked before I could stop myself. Kate looked up, considering me for a moment before nodding.
"Yeah, you could say that," she agreed slowly. She opened her mouth once or twice before shutting it firmly. "Anyway, I wasn't stupid. After that I realized my dad was right and I cleaned up my act. No hanging out with the wrong crowd, you know?" She paused, looking me over with a slight smile. "I know it's not really the same thing with you guys but… Getting hung up on that guy was a really bad decision. And after how it ended, I was never the same. I just don't want to see you make my mistakes."
I nodded again, appreciating the concern. But I wasn't going to make Kate's mistakes. As far as I was concerned, her only error had been letting her boyfriend's attack make her prejudice against all werewolves. From the sounds of it, he'd lost a pack member and then lost control, and then Kate had lost any faith she'd ever had in shifters. But I was still planning on siding with Scott. If I could achieve Kate's confidence without losing my outlook on people, I figured I'd be in a pretty good place.
"Wow," Kate sighed, smiling widely once more and shaking her head. "That was entirely too much sentimental crap. Let's shoot something, huh?" She grabbed two new guns from the bag, loading them easily with practiced hands and leading the way over to the lanes. She stepped up first, aiming the gun at her target and keeping a steady stance. She glared at the end of the lane before emptying the entire magazine into the center of the target. The entire time she seemed to emit this quiet rage, like the target was really the embodiment of everything that had ever hurt her in her life. When the room was quiet once more, she lowered the gun, grinning dangerously at the target and looking supremely satisfied. "Okay," she sighed, stepping to the side. "Your turn." I nodded once with determination, moving into place and raising the gun to point steadily down the range. Kate rested her hands on my shoulders. "Okay, now this time I don't want you to look at the target like a target. Picture it as the thing that's making you upset."
"I don't want to shoot Stiles or Lydia," I argued. Kate nearly chuckled behind me, leaning just a little closer to my ear.
"And I don't think it's really Stiles or Lydia that's bothering you," she whispered.
I thought about that for a moment. Lydia couldn't help the way she was. It was just who she was as a person, and the fact that everyone liked her wasn't something that she had control over. She hadn't done anything to hurt me. In fact, Lydia was consistently being a good friend, wanting me to take my crush to the dance even though she didn't like him, agreeing to take him for me to save me the pain, and trying to make sure I enjoyed myself regardless. And Stiles... Well, I'd never blamed him for his crush on Lydia. He wasn't required to like me back, even after everything we'd gone through, and he'd known Lydia for years. His crush on Lydia was honest and understandable, and the extent and legitimacy of it was something that just made me like him more. The only problem I had was that I was jealous. That wasn't something that was Stiles or Lydia's faults. That was me. I was making myself upset because I was dwelling on how much better I thought Lydia was. I moped around feeling like I wasn't good enough because the one boy I wanted didn't want me. But there were more important things happening around town than Stiles having a crush on Lydia. Peter was killing people and Derek was being held hostage. Jackson was biting at the bit to become a werewolf, and the Argents thought that he already was one. Scott's condition was keeping him from being happy with Allison, and I was having an identity crisis because Stiles didn't want to take me to a dance?
I narrowed my eyes at the target, just as Kate had done a minute before. Then I squeezed the trigger. Each bang felt like I was shooting my insecurities to pieces. Terrible things were happening in town, and I was one of the few people who knew about it. Who cared if Lydia was still the popular girl who caught Stiles's attention? She couldn't deal with the important things happening. And I could. Whether I had Stiles or not, whether I had a date or not, even if I didn't have a pretty dress or a car or a dad. I was one of the only people in town with a shot of doing something to save people. And I could.
The room subsided into silence once more as the last bullet ripped into the center of the target. Kate let out a low whistle, admiring the holes in the bullseye.
"I would hate to be the boy who crossed you," she joked, nudging me shoulder as I lowered the gun.
I laughed. And it wasn't a forced laugh, or a feeble one. I didn't feel like I had to in order to be polite, or because I knew I should. It was a loud, free laugh, one of my first in what felt like weeks. The adrenaline of shooting the gun, the pride of hitting the center, the confidence of shooting my insecurities out of the air. I felt wonderful. I felt powerful. I could understand why Kate was a gun girl, why she enjoyed hunting so much. I wondered if that was the rush she felt every time. She'd jogged back to her bag, returning with another sleek gun for me to try my hand at.
"Shoot it all out," she advised, grinning as she handed me the loaded firearm. "You've got to be ready for tomorrow." I turned back to the target, mirroring her smirk as I went at it once more. I wasn't quite sure what she'd meant by the comment, but I knew she was right. I had to get my nerves out before I could face the prospect of Stiles showing up at our house with flowers for Lydia, escorting her to his Jeep and asking her to dance. I needed to keep myself from getting upset, getting distracted. Because this wasn't just about me not going to the dance with my crush. Peter had basically told me that he was going to be at the party to target people. Stiles could keep an eye on Lydia, keep her safe. And as much as I hated Jackson, I knew he'd finally caved and agreed to do the same for Allison. The rest of it was up to Scott and me.
I had to be ready for the winter formal, because I knew that things were about to get out of control.
A/N: Wooh! WOOH! It's probably terrible that I'm this excited about how the story's going. It's going placing. We are rapidly approaching the climax of the season, and I couldn't be more excited. Fun facts about this chapter? The fortune cookie comment about Lydia's favorite quote is true. It's my favorite quote that I found in a cookie several years ago, and I literally freaked out when Lydia used it on the show. Also, I just really love Peter and Kate. I'm gonna be so upset when I have to stop writing them. Or do I...? *maniacal laughter*
Thank you and welcome to all new readers, favoriters, followers and reviewers. You guys keep me going. Thank you to xxxxninaxxxx, Lucy Greenhill, becca1130, ovenfreshh, ellisbellisballs, br, ScornedxRose, LynZann, prettyargents, casper6six6, ElithaAndWest, MS. QUEEN21, SammieLuvsFood, LilMissSunshine14, A Cool Guest, Lojo2014o (You just compared this story to Harry Potter and I think I might cry thank), Isaac fan, TameTheGhosts, OliviaMisfit, SimplyKelly, LifeToDeath, lilyllama, GetsueiNoYume, Alexstarlight18, shakesparrow, xALFiex, kaljara, the outsider19, mfmxxx, Kelly1432, kayheshh, and LionHeartMisfit! Phew! I figured you guys would be upset about that.
Also, thank you for more things! As you might have noticed, this story now as a thumbnail, courtesy of myself. And there's also a link to a short FAN VIDEO on my profile by jayrosew. But beware. I think the video might be more heartbreaking than the actual story. Thank you so much! Also, lostinwonderland314, who has continued to make kickass Polyvore outfits, and the links to those are on my profile.
Also, for those of you who are interested, there's a link to Sadie's dress on my profile too!
So, I've only got a few more days before I head to school, and that's when updates are gonna get really difficult. There's only a couple more chapters I think, though, so I'll try and finish this installment before I get distracted by schoolwork. Thank you again for all your support and I really hope you enjoyed the chapter. Let me know!
-Brittney
