Commercial Break Four

Every time she looked at a crayon, Wendy remembered the first time she met Stiles Stilinski with a grin gracing her lips. It was the first day of pre-k for the McCall twins and Wendy had stuck to her brother like glue until she had laid eyes on the boy that she had been dreaming about, a boy her mother had told her wasn't real. . . . but there he was. The boy was watching a red-headed girl with a dreamy expression on his face, his coloring book lay abandoned on his desk. Wendy couldn't help but watch what happened next with her heart thumping heavily in her chest.

The girl he was looking at frog marched over to him and the freckled faced boy sat up with a hopeful look thrown in her direction. Wendy couldn't hear what she was saying to him but she could tell it was something mean by the way the smile fell from the boy's face. The red haired girl swiped up his crayons and then pounced to a blond boy sitting by himself. Wendy couldn't take the sad look that graced his cute features so she pulled out her own crayons and walked over to him.

"Do you want to share with me?" Wendy asked nervously.

The scrawny boy brightened up and nodded furiously. He patted the empty chair beside him and she sat down with a grin. She opened the box of crayons, spreading them out in between them.

"Do you have a coloring book?" the boy asked.

"No, I forgots mine," she said. "But my brother has one, he can share with me. He has to cause mommy would make him."

"You have a brother?" he asked with interest.

"Yeah, a twin. Mommy said that means a stork had brought us to her in the mail on the same day," she replied. "Do you have any brothers?"

"No, I only have a mommy and daddy. My dad always tells me that I'm like a lot of kids in one and I drive him crazy like that," he said.

"That sounds mean," Wendy said.

"No, he loves me. He's a cop," the boy said proudly and she gasped.

"No way, so is my dad but he's FBI. I don't know what that means though," Wendy said with a shake of her curly hair.

"My dad says they are just douchier versions of cops but I don't know what that means either," he said with a frown.

"What's your name?" Wendy asked with a giggle.

"M-meeechy - slaw," the boy stuttered as he attempted to pronounce his first name.

"Gots a long name, huh," Wendy said giggling. "Can you say your last name?"

"Stilinski," he said proudly.

Wendy stuck out her tongue out as she thought of a nickname for the boy and a minute later her face lit up as a nickname popped into her head.

"Can I call you Stiles?" she asked.

"Stiles, stiles, Stiles. . . " he said, testing it out, and grinned. "Yeah! I like that. Stiles! My name is Stiles."

"I'm Wendy McCall and the boy overs there is my brother Scott. Scottie!" Wendy exclaimed and waved her brother over.

He shuffled shyly over with his hands stuffed in his pockets and stood by his sister.

"Hi," he said quietly.

"Scott, this is Stiles," Wendy introduced. "Let's color with him."

"Okay."

Scott pulled out his coloring book and pulled up a chair next to his sister. He pushed his book closer to her and smiled when she handed him a crayon. From then on they sat together everyday coloring, taking naps, and even begging their parents for slumber parties. It was all thanks to a simple box of crayons with a little bit of help from Lydia Martin and the same box of crayons that started an epic friendship still sat in the bottom of her closet. Every once in a while she would take out the box along with a photo album from that time and smile fondly at them. She was glad that she shared her crayons with Stiles Stilinski.

"Hey Stiles," Wendy said after several moments of coloring.

"Yes?"

"Can I play connect the dots on your face?"

"No."

"Dang it."

"Wendy! Mommy says you're not opposed to say that no more!"