I don't have much to say for this chapter. I just wanted to let you know that in terms of the timeline, the beginning of this chapter takes place on the Sunday following the Friday night party that finished out the last chapter. The week that is between Sunday and Thursday is their last week at school. The prom is on the Thursday night, and the graduation is on the Saturday morning. You'll know why this is relevant when the following chapters are posted. I'm sorry if this isn't quite right, but I figured you'd prefer the timeline to be like this (with the romance and the sex) than to be completely, 100% accurate.

Links to the dresses are up on my profile page for anyone interested. I'm not dedicated enough to find hair/makeup/accessories, so just use your imaginations. Seriously. I did and I think it turned out okay ;) Also, the lyrics are from Champagne Supernova by Oasis.

I haven't had any new reviewers (that are logged in/registered) so this is for all my Guest reviewers who I'm pretty sure consistently give me feedback, even without a username :). It takes two minutes to make an account, and I'd love to be able to dedicate a chapter to you (post-story, most likely, as there is going to be a few consecutive updates.) Anyways, I love you all regardless of whether you've got an account, so know that you're appreciated!

xxx

E.G.

XIII

(I've Had) The Time of My Life

Lydia had a headache. It wasn't unusual for her, considering how much time she spent pouring over long, complicated journal articles, but that was fun and interesting. What she was doing now was hard work. The thing about Lydia Martin was that shopping was not fun for her- it was a competitive and extremely difficult sport. Which, right now, she was losing. Prom was next week, and she still hadn't been able to find something that she liked enough to deem Lydia Martin appropriate. She and Allison had been trawling the massive Beacon Hills shopping complex for three hours now, and Lydia was sick of trying on dresses. Allison (lucky, lucky Allison) had found her dress a few stores back. It was a black, vintage looking corseted number, and it looked perfect on her. She didn't even have to buy any new accessories, because all that she needed was a pair of black, strappy sandals and no girl lives without a pair. She even had a gorgeous cameo choker that her mother had left her when she died. Lydia, on the other hand, was suffering from the one thing the hated more than any other: the curse of the 'nothing-looks-right' disease.

"I hate shopping," Lydia muttered under her breath to Allison, who gave her a sympathetic smile and took her arm.

"I know, Lyds. But, look, lets grab a juice or something and then we can hit another store. We've only been to three, and the mall has at least eight," Allison replied. That's the good thing about Allison, Lydia mused. She always knows just when I need a break from work. The two girls headed down to the food court and walked up to a smoothie bar.

"Two Mango Magic's please," Allison said, handing over a crisp ten dollar note to the cashier.

"Thanks Alli. Dinner after all of this can be on me," Lydia told her, a smile on her face.

"Sounds fantastic. So, Lyds. I know I've asked you about this before, but you haven't given me a straight answer yet- you owe me at least that after everything I've told you about Scott. Why did you ask Stiles to Prom? And don't say just because you felt bad, because I know that wasn't it," Allison asked.

"I wasn't going to say that!" Lydia protested, giving Allison a small frown.

"Come on, Lydia!" Allison scolded.

"Okay. Look, it's like this: lately I've been having these... things, for Stilinski," Lydia admitted. A slight blush bloomed on her cheeks, and Allison's knowing smirk grew.

"You mean feelings. I know you do," she giggled, gleefully.

"Yes. Fine. Feelings. I don't know what they mean. I'm so conflicted about everything since Jackson, and I'm not sure I'm ready for another romantic thing to happen yet. But I really, really enjoy Stiles. And I never thought I'd say that. But I do. He honestly makes me laugh, and after everything you know how important that is. So, yeah. Stilinski," Lydia finished. Allison was cackling wickedly at this point.

"Lydia and Stiles... Stydia! You guys are Stydia Martinski! Oh this is great! Wait until I tell Scott!" she chortled.

"No!" Lydia exclaimed, grabbing her best friend's arm. "You can't say anything. Scott is a massive blabbermouth and I don't want Stiles to know anything until I figure out how I feel, okay?"

Allison stopped laughing at the look on Lydia's face. "Okay, Lyds."

"Promise?"

"Yes, you daft cow! Look, those are our drinks. Lets grab them and go and sit before we keep looking," Allison chuckled.

It was an hour later when Lydia finally found the dress she wanted, but the wait had been worth it.

"Stiles is totally going to pass out when he sees you in that."

"I know. That's why it's so perfect. Now, I need to see about a matching tie, because if there's one thing I know about that boy, it's that he's going to panic about colour schemes. Sometimes I seriously question his sexuality."

Lydia knocked quickly on the Stilinski front door. She had just dropped Allison home from a beautiful dinner in their favourite Japanese restaurant, and she had decided that since it wasn't too late that she would drop Stiles' tie for Prom around that evening. She head Stiles' muffled voice calling to his Dad that he's get the door, and then the lock clicked and yellow light spilled over her as Stiles pulled the door wide open. His eye lit up when he saw who it was, and the smile that graced his face was angelic.

"Lydia?" he asked, obviously surprised. "What are you doing here?"

"Look, I know it's getting a bit late, but I wanted to drop this off. I bought my dress today, and I didn't want you to freak out over getting a tie to match, so I took care of it," Lydia said, handing over the small, black box where the bow-tie she had bought resided. Stiles looked down at the box, and gave another smile.

"You knew I'd want a bow-tie. Of course you did," he said, smiling down at her.

"It's a funny thing, Stiles. When you spend time with someone, you actually find out stuff about them. Who would have thought?" Lydia replied cheekily, without the snark that would have been given for anyone else.

"Strange, that," Stiles joked back. "Look, do you want to come in for a drink. It'll only be a coffee, but we can finalise everything for Prom on Friday."

Lydia didn't even have to think about it. "I'd like that."

The only thing left inside the blue, metal locker was a scrunched up piece of paper. Lydia was staring at it blankly, and taking a minute to remember the magnitude of what she was doing by throwing it away. She shook her head at that thought. You're being stupid, Lydia, she told herself. You knew that this would end. And she had; she just hadn't expected for it to sneak up on her that quickly. Classes had been pretty slack that week, and Lydia had almost forgotten to clean out her locker, but since she wasn't going to be in tomorrow (due to her need to spend the day getting ready for her final Prom), she was taking a break from the lack of studying going on in the Chemistry lab, and had just cleaned a year's worth of loose paper and old staples out of her locker. Lydia had a tradition- a very odd one- that she had done every year without fail since they'd been given lockers in middle school. She would always clean everything out of her locker except one piece of paper. Just a random piece, nothing special. But that was the piece of paper she'd keep to remind her of that year at school. It had given her many memories, and every year something different was found and catalogued, so that Lydia didn't forget her time in school. In sophomore year, it had been an old note from Jackson. In eighth grade, it had been a piece of Math homework that had betrayed her true genius to the teacher in a very Cady Herron manner ("your work is right, but the answers are wrong"). Lydia's right hand quivered as she reached forward to take hold of the paper. She picked it up, and smoothed it out, curious as to what the last piece of her year was going to entail. In a familiar, messy script, it read:

Lydia,

I know that technically these are a day late, but I wanted you to have something from someone who really knows you. I'm sure you've been given loads of cards and candy, but these are your favourites. Enjoy!

Love,

Stiles

x

Lydia felt a soft smile form on her face. This note had been taped to a box of Belgian Seashell chocolates left in her locker on February the 15th- and Stiles had been right. They were her favourite. It was then that Lydia realised that she knew exactly how she felt about Stiles. Now all she had to do was find the perfect moment to act on it.

The lilac coloured fabric that Lydia had chosen look stunning against the milky pale of her skin. Her red-gold locks were pulled into an elegant, braided up-do to showcase the expanse of skin the cut-out in the back of her dress revealed. Her lips were a bright red that contrasted beautifully with her green eyes. Yes, ladies and gents. Lydia Martin looks amazing, as per usual. Lydia shook her head at the sarcastic commentary that had started to overtake her thoughts since she'd begun to spend time with Stiles. She had hated it at first, but now she simply smiled at herself. There wasn't anything she could do to stop it, and she didn't really want to, anyway.

Lydia finished reapplying her lipstick, and picked up the skirts of her dress as she slipped her feet into her heels, making sure she didn't crinkle or- heaven forbid- rip it. She quickly did the clasp on each one, and then stood tall in front of her mirror and smiled brightly. She was ready for tonight. As she was packing her clutch with the essentials (phone, compact, lipstick, breath mints and house keys) the doorbell rang. Lydia's mother had already been briefed on the situation, and after many years of the same situation, Lydia knew that her mother would let Stiles in and wait with him until she was ready. It was time for her final, high-school staircase moment. Lydia quickly checked her appearance again. She glanced at the pink and black bag on her bed, giggled quietly at what she had planned for later and then grabbed her bag and headed to the staircase, making sure that her footsteps were loud enough so that she would be the centre of attention. She was Lydia Martin after all.

Sucking in a deep breath, Lydia slowly began the descent. As the foyer of her house came into view, Lydia heard Stiles' intake of breath. She suppressed one of her own when she saw him. He was wearing a tux and the bow-tie she had bought for him, and he looked beyond handsome. His hair was stuck up in its usual quiff-like do, and his warm, brown eyes sparkled in the low-lighting. Lydia reached the bottom, and make her way across to him.

"Wow, Stilinski. You clean up good," she said, breaking the silence that had overcome the room.

"I... uh... thanks. You look... I don't even have an adjective. Like, just beyond, Lydia. So beyond," Stiles told her, a dumbstruck look on his face.

"I think the word you're searching for is very," Lydia said, referencing their movie choice of a week ago. Stiles laughed.

"I think you're right. So, you requested this," he said, holding out a box with a beautiful gardenia corsage in it.

"That's lovely, Stiles. Here, put it on her while I get some photos," Mrs. Martin said, interrupting the moment that was making Lydia's stomach swirl with butterflies. Lydia rolled her eyes at Stiles, but allowed her mother to snap several photographs before she and Stiles left the house. There was a limo parked in her driveway, and Lydia gave Stiles a grin when she saw it.

"You are definitely the best date ever," she told him, and took his arm before they both slipped into the car and headed to pick up Scott and Allison.

Despite the cheesy 80's ballads and the punch that had definitely been spiked, Lydia was having an amazing time. She and Stiles were revolving slowly to the last song of the night. She had, of course, been crowned Prom Queen, and the silver tiara had fit perfectly into her up-do (because she was always prepared for any possible scenario.)

Someday you will find me

Caught beneath the landslide

In a Champagne Supernova in the sky

"Thanks for being my date tonight," Lydia whispered.

"Lydia, I'd walk over hot coals to be your date. Thanks for asking," Stiles murmured back.

"That's why I asked. If anyone deserves to be the Prom Queen's date, it's you, Stiles. You're the best, kindest, most loyal, stunning person in this room," Lydia said, pulling back and staring directly into Stiles' eyes.

The world's still spinning round

We don't know why?

Why? Why? Why? Why?

"Lyds," Stiles whispered.

"Yes?" she croaked back, sinking slowly into him, her arms clasping even tighter around his neck. The air around them began to crackle with static electricity.

How many special people change?

How many lives are living strange?

The air around them began to crackle with static electricity.

Where were you while we were getting high?

We were getting high

Stiles blinked slowly, leaning down slightly as Lydia pressed up onto her tiptoes.

We were getting high

We were getting high

And then the song ended. Both teenagers pulled back from each other, and smiled slightly. Everyone clapped for the DJ, and then the night was over. The four friends made their way back to the limo, and were dropped off at their respective houses. As Lydia unlocked her front door, she knew that Stiles was probably feeling pretty dejected, and she felt a small ache in her heart. But she had promises to keep, and there was an outfit waiting for her upstairs.

Stiles- dressed in a ratty T-shirt and jeans that had seen better days- came to the door at the sound of her insistent knocks. He let her in, and followed upstairs to his bedroom, and sat on his bed in a comfortable silence while she paced, trying to put together exactly what she needed to say together.

"So, two months ago we decided to be just friends," Lydia began, exhaling and staring at Stiles with a strong, steady gaze.

"Yeah. We did," he agreed, giving her a half smile.

"I know. And I know how much it hurt you then. And I'm so sorry. But I wasn't ready then. I wasn't ready to believe that someone as good as you could love someone like me," Lydia continued.

"There's nothing wrong with you-," Stiles began to interrupt her, but Lydia silenced him with a look.

"Yes, there is. I was as blind as a bat. I didn't even have sonar to help me tell up from down. But I found that note you sent me the day after we made up in my locker on Wednesday, and I realized. I've been so, so stupid, Stiles. Because I think that I might actually have feelings for you. Scratch that, I know I do. I'm falling for you, Stiles Stilinski. So, if I haven't royally screwed things up too much, would you be willing to give me another chance?" Stiles' face had changed as Lydia delivered her soliloquy, from indignant, to shocked to absolutely and utterly bewildered.

"Stiles?" Lydia asked, hoping to God that he would say yes. His eyes snapped to hers.

"As if that's even a question," Stiles said. They surged toward each other like oceans, colliding with all the violence of a storm and all the passion and unresolved sexual tension that had accumulated over years of darting around each other. As their lips met and she pushed him against the wall, Lydia finally felt like she was standing on steady ground. Her hands trailed over his arms and down his chest, feeling the staccato of Stiles' heart. It was beating in time with her own.