My dad wasn't home. He always worked overnight on New Years. As soon as I got home I went to the bathroom and changed out of my clothes. My boxers had blood in them, and I wanted to make a joke to myself about how only girls are supposed to bleed their first time, but it came out as a choking sob instead.
After our drive, Derek takes me back to his loft. Isaac and Scott are still there and I don't need werewolf senses to smell the confusion radiating off of Scott. Isaac is impartial since he's used to seeing me around, although I notice he's a bit observant with me today. I lounge on Derek's couch, stealing one of his books on mythology and not really concentrating on reading.
We didn't have a pack meeting that Friday, but we were going to have one next Friday, and I was hoping to tell Lydia beforehand, which meant I had up to one week to figure out how to tell her, and of course, get the bravery to do it. My mind kept playing all there scenarios of how she could react.
Most of which ended with her slapping me.
Lydia and I have a rocky relationship. I pined over her for 7 years before realizing that I wasn't in love with Lydia Martin, I was in love with the idea of Lydia Martin. After I stopped acting like a fan boy around her, we actually became pretty close. In a totally platonic way. I considered her a good friend, and I think…hope she considered me the same. But then New Years happened and everything went to shit.
I wondered if Lydia trusted me when we were friends, or if it's just now that she wouldn't trust me. I wonder if she misses me at all, but then I remember how I 'selfishly ruined her life', and lean towards probably not. I wonder if any of my friends miss me. Doubtful.
I wish my relationship with Lydia was at least a little mended. Like how Isaac will wave to me, or Scott at least acknowledges my 'selfish' existence at times. But out of all of my former friends, my relationship with Lydia is by far the worse, which makes telling her even harder than it already is.
And fuck it really is.
Eventually I went home, hoping the weekend would be enough time to mull over a plan of action.
It wasn't.
Monday morning rolled around, and all I had managed to do was psych myself out. I had math with Lydia, and the same lunch period, so I was planning on finding a way to tell her during one of those classes. On Monday when I got into math I passed my desk and started walking to hers, but then I was hit with a wave of panic and dashed back to my own seat.
Honestly though, what was the worst Lydia could do? Abandon me in rage? It's not like she would tell anyone what I said if she didn't believe me. She wouldn't want a rumor spreading.
During lunch I had to go to my counseling session so I didn't even see Lydia. Not that it mattered; I doubt I would have told her anyway.
Obviously, I didn't speak of these fears with Morrell, however I did express them to Derek after school.
"I don't know, I'm just so terrified. And I don't know why!"
"Were you afraid when you told me?"
"I was more afraid of what would happen if I didn't tell someone…it was eating me alive. I couldn't breathe. It was like a panic attack. A constant, agonizing, panic attack."
"Then try not to think of what happens if you tell Lydia. Think of what happens if you don't."
I nod at him and close my eyes, biting down on my bottom lip. The metallic taste of blood snaps me back to reality and I wipe my bleeding mouth off on my sleeve.
"You okay?"
I glance over in the direction of sound, Derek.
"Yeah. It's not the first time this has happened."
It's not. I had cut open my lip quite a few times this year, it wasn't as concerning as it was painful and gross.
Derek raises is eyebrows in concern but doesn't comment, thankfully.
I decide it's best to pull Lydia aside during lunch and tell her then. Unfortunately, the next day during lunch, I didn't see her at her usual table, which was once my usual table. Later in the day she was in math class, so she must have been in the library during lunch.
After school Derek doesn't ask me if I asked her, which is good, because I really don't feel like admitting that I yet again didn't manage to tell her. I don't think he would judge me though, but it's still a fear.
Deep down I wonder if he judged me for what happened, but I try my best to suppress that fear.
On Wednesday I have to go to Morrell's during lunch, which still pisses me off. Does my lack of speech affect my grades? Does it affect anyone but me? I was mad that I was stuck wasting time having her ask me the same questions over and over while I could be telling Lydia. I just wanted to get it over with at this point.
I go straight home after school since my dad has the evening off, but spend most of it curled up under my blankets. I build a little fort where no one can hurt me. That night, I turn on the shower, but instead of getting in I stood in front of the mirror and practiced telling Lydia. It kind of reminded me of practicing my smiles in the mirror the night before picture day back in middle school.
"Hey Lydia," I whispered to the mirror. I imagined Lydia glaring at me and grabbing her books to storm off in the opposite direction.
"Wait Lydia it's an emergency!"
Imaginary Lydia rolls her eyes and keeps walking.
"Lydia, if you ever cared about me at all, please. Please." Imaginary Lydia contemplates for a minute before walking back to the table and siting down next to me.
"What?" Imaginary Lydia asks, obviously annoyed.
"Lyds," imaginary Lydia rolls her eyes at the nickname, "Lyds, at the party," imaginary Lydia looks about ready to leave.
"Lyds, I was hurt," I don't even notice I'm crying until I look up from the sink and back to my reflection. I decide that's enough imagining things and take a quick shower before hoping in bed.
I run a good million scenarios in my head before falling asleep.
The next morning I get a lunch pass for the library. I figure I'll go to the Cafeteria, and if Lydia's not there within the first ten minutes of lunch, I'll use my pass and go to the library.
"Hey," Danny greets me as I sit down and I wave.
"Are you okay? You look pretty pale." I nod, even though I'm not. I'm so nervous I feel lightheaded. I observe my table of former friends, waiting for Lydia to take a seat, Danny follows my gaze.
"Do you miss them?" He asks, and I nod, because unfortunately it's the truth. Even though it's not why I'm upset.
"Just, give them time." I smile at Danny even though his advice is shit, because at least he's trying.
"Thanks." I tell him and his eyes widen. I give him a confused look in return.
"Sorry, It's just weird hearing your voice. Never thought I'd miss it."
I fake a smile, and shrug. Lydia's still not at the table, so I decide that I'll go to the library once I finish my sandwich.
It's peanut butter and jelly, it reminds me of elementary school. Reminds me of being a happy kid, with two parents, and a huge imagination. Reminds me of innocence.
I had my innocence stolen from me on New Years.
The sandwich suddenly tastes stale and I chuck the remaining half in the garbage before waving goodbye to Danny and grabbing my backpack, heading for the library.
My predictions are correct, I can spot Lydia's signature strawberry blonde mane from a mile away. She's sitting at an empty table perched over some giant book. Her back is facing me, so she doesn't see me take a good 5 minutes to prep myself. I know I've been wanting to get this over with, but now that's she's here…it feels too real. The terror that hit me before hits me again, tenfold.
I take a deep breath and take my first small step towards her.
The library felt a mile long with every tiny step, but finally I was standing right behind Lydia. She didn't notice me until I grabbed the chair next to her and scooted it out.
She must have been too surprised to glare, because she just stared at me, mouth slightly agape as I sat down next to her, staring ahead.
To my outright astonishment, she didn't leave the table, just picked up her pencil and continued jotting down notes from the world largest book.
Deep breath, eyes closed, "h-hey."
She doesn't acknowledge me.
"I- uh-" deep breath, "I need to tell you something."
She doesn't even glance up.
"About- about what happened on New Years."
This, she acknowledges. She slams the book closed and starts to gather her things.
"Wait! Please, Lydia. Please. Let me explain. I- I didn't call the cops because I was jealous or anything. Something happened, please."
My voice breaks a few times, and I've never felt so desperate.
Thank the lord, Lydia sits back down.
Her arms are crossed and she's fuming, but at least she didn't leave.
We sit in silence for a few minutes, while I try to get the energy to say three words, until she finally acknowledges my presence.
"Well, are you going to tell me or not? I don't have all day."
I nod and close my eyes.
"I… I. I was-" my voice breaks and I can't. I can't say it.
Lydia looks like she's at the end of her rope, when an idea hits me. I unzip the little pocket on my backpack and take out a small folded piece of paper.
Lydia raises an eyebrow before rolling her eyes and taking the paper. She unfolds it and the same three words I wrote for Derek stare back.
I WAS RAPED
She looks shocked for a moment, rereading the three words a few times as if they'd change anything. Yeah, I wish it were that easy.
Finally, her expression does a complete 180 as it immediately softens, and she grabs my arm, leading me outside to a bench.
"Oh my god, I'm so sorry. Stiles, I- what happened? I mean, did you get a disease or something? And-and how? I mean. Oh God, you probably don't want to talk about it, but – God Stiles."
I sit in silence as she rants in shock, before she finally turns to me, her expression serious.
"Do you know who did it?"
I bite my bottom lip and nod.
"Who? Who did it? I'll make them sorry they were ever born."
I look up at her with guilty eyes, "it was Andy Evans."
Lydia's jaw drops, "you-you. I can't believe you! I can't believe you'd be so jealous! That you could stoop this low! Fine, be jealous, have a pathetic little crush on me! But to constantly try to ruin my relationships? First you call the cops, and then you accuse a great guy of something like this? That's twisted Stiles, you're sick!"
She retreats back inside and I bite my lip so hard it tears through my gums. I'll probably need stitches.
The rest of the day, it's like I'm in a trance. It feels like I'm standing still and the entire world is moving too fast.
I drive to Derek's after school, he's sitting on the couch when I walk in, and I sit on the opposite end, staring ahead.
It takes a good ten minutes for me to say anything, and when I do I can't even look at him, I just keep staring forward.
"I told Lydia."
"What happened? What did she say?" Derek's voice is filled with energy.
My voice breaks when I turn to him, "you know, he's a great guy Derek," a hysterical laugh falls from my lips, "I'm twisted, I'm sick."
Derek stares at me, but doesn't respond. I can tell he's trying to think of what to say.
"It's a lot of news for her to handle all at once. Maybe she just needs time to process it…" I can tell he doesn't believe it.
I shoot up from the couch, panting out a breath.
"Time? Time! That's-" hysterical laugh, "that's what Scott said my friends needed! And they all left me! Time isn't always the answer you know! TIME DOESN'T FIX EVERYTHING! IT DOESN'T GIVE ME MY FRIENDS BACK, AND IT DOESN'T MAKE LYDIA BELIEVE ME AND –AND" I start hyperventilating, choking out my words, "IT DOESN'T TAKE BACK WHAT HE DID! TAKE BACK MY VIRGINITY!" Derek silently takes my arms, holding them in front of my chest in an attempt to calm me.
"I HATE HIM! I HATE HIM! I FEEL LIKE I'M NEVER GONNA BE HAPPY AGAIN! HE RUNIED EVERYTHING! HE- HE RUINED ME! I FEEL SO BROKEN, DEREK! AND I HATE IT!" I finally burst into hysterical sobs and fall to my knees, taking Derek down with me. He lets go of my arms and gently draws circles on my back while I sob.
"I-I can't- I cant do this Derek. I'm not strong enough! I'm trying so hard, but I can't function. I can't sleep, I'm afraid of my own shadow, and can't even talk. I feel so trapped, I feel so alone-"
Derek pulls back and tilts my head so our eyes meet.
"You're not alone. Just because your friends are being assholes doesn't mean you're alone. You have your dad, and you have me. And I believe you. And I'm gonna help you."
I stare at him for a second before wrapping my arms around his neck and burying my face in the crook of his neck.
"I feel so weak." I whisper to him, and he rubs circles in my back, holding me.
It takes awhile to calm me; I spend a good ten minutes wrapped in Derek's arms, afraid to leave. I soak his Henley with tears, but my sobs are silent.
I pull away from him and look down, abashed.
"Sorry." I whisper and he gives me a confused stare. He pauses for a few minutes, as if waiting for me to elaborate.
"For what?" He asks.
"For, piling all this on you. You have enough shit on your plate with the alpha pack. And God, here I am wailing about feeling broken while you've been through so much worse and you never complain."
I felt really guilty for breaking down on Derek; he didn't deserve to deal with my problems.
Derek stares at me, shocked.
"Stiles, shit, don't apologize. I'm glad you're finally telling someone what's wrong."
My eyes don't meet his and he realizes I don't believe him.
"Stiles, look at me."
I finally glance up, my eyes, still red from tears, meet his concerned ones.
"Stiles, you're a trauma victim. You went through something horrific. Don't blame yourself for breaking down, and don't compare your pain to others."
I nod at him, taking a minute to compose myself.
"I hate him." I whisper again.
"Trust me, you're not the only one."
A/N: Holy crap you guys, we're almost at 100 reviews! You guys are amazing! If I hit 100 I'll make sure to make the next chapter extra long as a thank you. Also, holy crap this chapter was sad. Like, *pulls out tissue box* here you go guys, sorry I put you through that. Anywho, when Stiles yells "I hate him! I hate him! I feel like I'm never gonna be happy again!" That line was stolen from Degrassi! Youtube "Maya breaks down" if you want to watch the scene it's kinda inspired form. Also fun fact:, this is my longest fanfiction now! (As of the last chapter, lol). My longest before that was a terrible iCarly teen pregnancy one I wrote when I was 14 (I'm not even kidding, I actually wrote that). Please don't read it. Or do, if you want to laugh at my expense.