DISCLAIMER: I do not own Teen Wolf, its characters, or any affiliated entities. I maintain artistic license of my original character(s).
She had gotten getting to class down to a science. Getting to Ecom right as the bell rang meant being able to avoid awkward confrontations, being early to French guaranteed a corner seat as far as humanly possible from Lydia Martin, and English had worked well enough to land her on the opposite side of the room from Lydia, Scott, and Stiles. Sticking to the walls in the hallway kept her from being trampled and jostled around too much, but the stress from being around so many people so frequently had yet to subside. The library turned out to be a quiet and solitary place to spend lunch, so time there was generally spent catching her breath. It'd been a long time since Emmalyn had been in such a public place, the constant rush was jarring and typically shook her too much to make her scheduled appointments with Ms. Morrell. Day to day she would get the same passively disapproving look from her, having her as a teacher made it difficult to justify why she hadn't stopped by yet. Ms. Morrell knew their appointments were mandatory but kept quiet, so Emmalyn just counted her blessings.
Over the past week the 'new girl' hype had dwindled down to a light buzz. Stiles had let her be after the first day, resorting to quick, two-fingered waves when she ducked into class. Every day that passed without someone recognizing her caused a sense of relief, but she wasn't out of the dark yet. So long as she lived in Beacon Hills, she'd always be in it.
oOo
Lydia sat at the lunch table mindlessly pushing her salad around with a fork, opting to chew on the question she'd been choking back for the past few days instead. She hadn't meant to act like she had toward Emmalyn, she knew exactly who she was. They had been good friends once, but that was a long time ago. Seeing her again made her shrink back into her facade, not willing to face the troubles she'd caused. Lydia knew pretending like nothing had happened wouldn't fix things, to be honest she didn't know if anything would.
"Could you two maybe act your age for like, five seconds?" She snapped at the boys, catching Stiles mid-fling of a spoonful of peas in Scott's direction.
"Lydia?" Allison asked, reaching for her friends arm, "Are you OK?"
She hissed when Allison's hand landed on her bruised forearm, still a rich purple color from being grabbed the previous week,
"Oh I don't know, once you look past the glaringly obvious fact that you idiots are about to get your little werewolf asses handed to you by a freaking pack of Alphas," Lydia fired a look off at both Scott and Issac before she continued, "or maybe the brutal murders that are apparently an entirely different problem the we know absolutely nothing about – oh, and let's not forget how Peter manipulated me into bringing him back from the dead and destroyed my life with no repercussions what-so-ever? Then there's the fact that I'm magically finding dead people all across Beacon Hills with no memory of getting to them. Nooo, I'm fine. Just. Peachy."
That look, the same look she'd gotten from everyone since the attack last year. Pity.
"Lydia, I –"
"Forget it, Scott." Lydia cleared her throat and tossed her hair over her shoulder, "Anyway, anyone talked to Emmalyn?"
"Emmalyn?"
"Wait, have you talked to her?" Stiles asked, choking on his soda.
Lydia narrowed her eyes at Stiles, unsure of how carefully she'd need to tread around the subject, "We've been in each others classes since kindergarten. Besides, we have French and English together."
"Wait, guys who's –"
"Emmalyn, Allison. She sits by the door in Ms. Blake's class," Stiles rambled out. "She doesn't talk to anyone in English though, did she say something in French? Like, at all? We're talking a sentence, a homework answer. Did she even say hello?"
"Whoa, slow your roll there, lover boy. I tried the first day, she's sat on the other side of the room from me ever since."
"Well did you say something to piss her off?"
"Excuse me. All I said to Ms. Sensitive was that she had cute shoes." Lydia knew that wasn't the whole truth. Sure, she'd told her she liked her shoes, but it was more about what she didn't say. There was no heartfelt apology or asking how she'd been. There should have been, but she tripped over herself at the finish line. "Whatever, she's probably just being cautious. I would be too if I'd gone through everything she had."
Stiles' head jerked back toward the strawberry-blonde, "What's that supposed to mean?"
"Stiles, she was bullied mercilessly, where were you?"
He thought back to the beginning of freshman year, her abrupt withdrawal beginning to make sense.
"And you didn't do anything? Lydia, that's awful."
"Oh spare me, Allison. You didn't even know who she was a minute ago. Besides, I was an entirely different person back then, just a young, impressionable girl swept away by the empty promise of popularity. I stopped caring about a lot of the things I used to."
"I have to find her," Stiles said, throwing his hands down on the lunch table.
"What happened to letting her –"
"I'm done waiting, Scott, because every minute, every second I waste is another she's left thinking we abandoned her. She pulled away from us and we were too stupid to see why. Em needed us and we weren't there for her."
Scott's brow furrowed as he glared holes through the table, his hand shooting out to grab Stiles' shoulder as he stood to leave. He sighed in defeat when he saw the look in his friend's eyes.
"We'll find her faster if it's the two of us. I'll track her down."
oOo
The library had been quiet as usual, only filled with academiacs since the more social students had filtered out at the beginning of lunch. Emmalyn had spent most of her time pretending to scan through the rows of books in an effort to hide her pacing. She'd resolved to try and make her appointment with Ms. Morrell today, but that was easier said than done. The better half of the last half hour was used trying to work up the confidence to even get to the guidance office, talking would probably have to wait for another day. Eying the clock, she knew that her window of opportunity was closing, soon the newly energized student body would rush back into the halls.
She took a deep breath and counted back from ten, preparing to leave her comfort zone. She didn't want to do this, but she definitely didn't want to go back. Even if that meant just showing up for her daily session, she would do it.
Looking both ways down the empty hallway, she left the library and headed toward the guidance office. She wanted more than anything to turn back and hide, to duck into the nearest bathroom and wait out the rest of the school day, but she knew that she couldn't spend the next two years hiding in a bathroom stall. Sooner or later, she would have to strengthen her resolve, and this was her first step. That is, until she heard the squeak of rubber soles down the hallway and her breath hitched in her throat.
Keep calm, keep walking. They'll walk right past you.
"Emma!"
Stiles.
Just ignore him, keep your head down. He'll give up eventually.
"Em, just give me a second to talk to you. Please."
She picked up her pace.
"Mouse, please."
Her feet stopped moving, the walls closing in on her. She squeezed her eyes shut as the hall in front of her began to twist, making her stomach drop. He and Scott had started calling her Mouse when they were seven. She'd seen one scurry across the floor in the McCall's kitchen and let out a high pitched yelp when she jumped up onto a chair. The two of them had never let her live it down. Before she could keep moving, she felt a hand fall on her shoulder and she crumbled.
When she turned around and looked up to him, he felt a break, a blow to the chest. There she was in front of him after two years, crying. Crying because he hadn't been the friend he always promised he would be, the kind that would be there for her. He'd let her go through it all alone and now she was just staring at him with red eyes and tear stained cheeks.
"Well?" She scowled through her wracked emotions.
The distance had hurt, but the feeling of abandonment hurt more.
He looked at her wide eyed, dragging his hand across his scalp and grabbing the nape of his neck. All of this time wondering, imagining her coming back and the best he could manage edge wise was just letting his mouth hang open like a fool.
"I just, uh –"
Emmalyn's shoulders tucked closer to her before she wiped her cheeks on her sleeve and turned to walk away. His feet felt like lead as he realized what was quite possibly his only chance to try and make things right was slipping away from him. He looked back to Scott who gave him a silent push to go after her again, and he knew that it was now or never. Stiles might not have been able to piece his words together, but he knew what he could do. He grabbed her by the shoulders, spun her around, and pulled her into a hug. She froze as she met his chest, and he took his only opportunity.
"Listen, Em, I know you probably hate the both of us right now, but you've got to listen to me. Me and Scott, we had no idea what was going on with you, and when I say no idea I mean we thought you just didn't want to be friends with us any more. I – we are so sorry that we didn't see it, that we weren't there for you like we said we would be. I literally can't even imagine everything that you went through, but please believe me when I tell you we weren't a part of any of it. God, you probably thought all those letters we wrote were us harassing you or something, but we would never do that to you. Just, please, tell me what I can do to make you believe me."
Emmalyn listened to him ramble on like he always did when he wasn't quite sure what to say. She didn't know what she would say when she pulled away, but for then, for that moment she just stood there and listened to him. He smelt like fresh earth and pine, it reminded her of all the time the three of them spent running through the preserve as kids. It reminded her of home, and no matter how foreign his arms felt, they still felt like home. In that moment, she didn't care about her appointment with Ms. Morrell or the students that were beginning to trickle into the hall. Every racing thought and insecurity fell to the back of her mind, her breathing steadied, and time stood still – until she felt Stiles pull back a bit.
"Em? Did – did you hear anything I just said?"
oOo
Scott hung back around the corner, letting the two have their moment. As much as he wanted to be right there, to apologize to the friend he'd known since they were in diapers, he couldn't bring himself to be near her. Something wasn't right. He didn't know what the feeling he got from her was, but he knew it wasn't good.
A/N: Alright, let me know what you guys think! You know the drill: praise, critique, any and all reviews welcome!
