In the midst of the craziness that had become her life, Lydia had completely forgotten about prom. It was only two weeks away, and she was the head of the prom committee. It was only Junior Prom, but that didn't lessen its importance any as far as she was concerned.
"Yes, I understand, Annie. I'll buy the streamers this weekend, don't worry. Everything will be ready in time. Bye, bye now." Hanging up her cellphone, Lydia took a deep breath and fell back onto her bed, her strawberry blond hair spilling out around her in waves.
She and Derek had a deal. They were going to save Jackson, turn him back into the boy she loved, and then what? They were even, but where did that leave her? Would Jackson remember his feelings for her? Perhaps the way he'd been treating her, being an asshole to her, had all been part of his transformation into that monster that had attacked her in the locker room. Derek claimed Jackson didn't remember any of it, anything associated with his time as a kanima, so perhaps he'd been walking around in a fog of amnesia for a month or more. Hope sprang up in her chest whether she liked it or not, and she knew she still loved him somewhere. It may be deep down inside, but the spark of it was still there. She remembered that night in Scott's house when she'd told Jackson she hated him and returned his house key. He'd known she was lying, and she'd admitted she should hate him; the words going unsaid that she didn't hate him.
As her confusion over her lingering feelings for Jackson came to a boil, she couldn't ignore the pressing matter of Peter's demands. He wanted her to make Derek fall in love with her, to make her his mate, but for what? He'd threatened the lives of her friends, of her family, and she was obliged to obey. But with the hope of Jackson returning to his old self - a boy she had truly been in love with once - she couldn't ignore the lack of emotion she had for Derek. She barely knew him outside of this week when she'd gone to apologize, and she certainly didn't trust him even if they were in this deal together. But she was supposed to manipulate him into trusting her, falling in love with her, and all so she could ultimately kill him at Peter's behest.
All of it made her nauseous, and she rolled onto her side and closed her eyes to block out her bedroom and the world around her. Reaching onto her nightstand, she retrieved the bottle of pills she'd been given by the doctor when she'd seen Peter in his wolf form that first time. Opening it, she dropped one pill into the palm of her hand and swallowed it, chasing it with two gulps of water from the glass which also sat on the nightstand. One good night's sleep, and she would worry about it all tomorrow.
A week and a half passed, alternating between laboring on the prom committee and working with Derek to formulate a plan to resolve Jackson's issues with his past. When she wasn't buying streamers and arranging for someone to fix the punch, she was tirelessly researching Jackson's family history, finding every fact she could about his parents and their deaths.
Despite all of her hard work, one issue remained unresolved, and it plagued her. Allison. She hadn't spoken with the other girl since their argument over Derek, and she missed her friend. She knew Allison must still be grieving over the loss of her mother, and she hadn't been the friend she should have been to the girl.
"Allison!" she called, chasing after the taller, longer-legged girl down the corridor between Chemistry and Algebra II. Allison ignored her, surely still fuming over their disagreement. "Allison, please, wait for me." Finally she caught up to the other girl, grabbing her sleeve to slow her.
Turning and rolling her eyes in aggravation, Allison stopped and stepped back from her, balking as if Lydia's very touch was anathema to her. "What do you want?" Her tone was hard and empty, her patience wearing thin with this confrontation.
Sighing, Lydia went into her apology, "I'm sorry for those things I said. You're mad about your mother's death, sad that she's gone, and I wasn't very understanding." She ached to tell her the truth about who was controlling the kanima - Allison's own grandfather! - but now wasn't the time. If she was going to succeed in repairing their friendship, demonizing Gerard Argent wasn't the first step in doing so.
Tears shone in Allison's dark eyes and she nodded, too choked up for words. "I'm sorry too," she managed, finally making eye contact with her smaller friend. "I shouldn't have told you about Jackson... not like that."
Looking away, Lydia pasted on a smile and drew herself up to her full height confidently. "It's fine. I needed to know."
"I'm still sorry about how I said it. It was a little harsh," Allison continued, smiling an apologetic half-smile. "I forgive you," Lydia commented, instinctively embracing her friend in a hug. Allison hugged her back, and she knew all was forgiven.
The truth of her grandfather's secret still plagued Lydia, but she must keep it to herself for now. The time to reveal such a huge secret would come, but she couldn't do it now.
"So when are you going to help me with Prom? It's only a few days away, and I need someone to help hang streamers," Lydia piped, releasing Allison and beginning to bounce away to their next class. "With your exceptional height and balance, I commandeer you to stand on the ladder and tape paper to the gym ceiling." Allison laughed and followed Lydia down the hallway to their Algebra class.
With their newly repaired friendship, the two girls skipped out early from school the Friday before the Prom to go dress shopping. Lydia promised to buy anything Allison wanted and couldn't afford - ignoring the other girl's protests - and they returned home four hours later with two new dresses each, matching shoes and handbags, as well as earrings and even a box of truffles Lydia insisted was 'part of the experience'.
Standing in her bedroom alone, having already eaten dinner and decided she would model her new dresses for herself to decide which one she preferred for the Prom, Lydia twirled in front of her mirror, holding the red dress up over her tight-fitted yoga capris and tanktop. Scrunching up her nose at the sight, she tossed the dress on the bed and retrieved the green one, holding it up to her chest. The color made her eyes look amazing and somehow made her hair look redder than the red dress did. Pulling off her tanktop over her head and stepping out of her pants, she pulled the green dress up over her hips and zipped it up the back.
She examined herself in the mirror with squinted eyes as she spun slowly back and forth to see herself from all angles. The bodice was decorated with sparkling sequins down to the high waistline where a black sash and bow decorated the dress. The bottom half of the dress was gathered in wide gathers, creating a ruffled bubble skirt with a soft satiny glow. Reaching up, she grabbed her hair, fluffing it and dropping the curls around her shoulders. The contrast of her strawberry blond tresses and green eyes stood out so wildly with the green dress, she knew instantly this was the outfit for her.
A breeze blew in from outside, ruffling her hair, and she realized she'd forgotten to close the window as the temperature outside dropped with nightfall. Walking to the window, she took a long deep breath of the fresh air and stood with the wind lifting her hair, gently caressing her face and tossing her hair around like a plaything. She smiled, pleased that her plan to save Jackson was going to work and everything would be okay.
"Good choice, the green looks better on you than the red."
Starting with surprise, Lydia gasped and backed up from the window so fast she tripped and landed on her butt on her bed. Looking around the room, she saw Derek emerge from the shadows, his black leather jacket covering a black tee-shirt and black jeans. Why he felt the need to blend in so succinctly to the darkness, she had no idea. Narrowing her eyes at him, she stood and brushed her skirt down, her red hair still floating around her shoulders as she faced him.
"What in the world are you thinking sneaking into my bedroom? Did you not think my parents could see you? Or better yet, I could have a heart attack when you surprise me like that?" She smacked him on his shoulder, causing him to glare at her in his usual grouchy way. Grumbling to herself, she shoved past him and double-checked that her bedroom door was locked before turning to face him once more, her hands planted firmly on her tiny hips.
"How long were you watching me dress and undress before you decided to let me know you were here?" she asked crossly.
Rolling his eyes, Derek answered, "I just got here after you already had the green dress on. I saw you hold up the red one when I was coming through the field toward the house. And why do I need to defend myself to you anyway? You're the one with the window wide open to the world as you change clothes!" He gestured exasperatedly and moved away from her to stand by the window.
Crossing her arms over her chest, she shrugged nonchalantly and fixed him with a contemplative eye. "Well, why are you here?" She felt a bit uncomfortable standing before him in her prom dress, and she didn't know why. Brushing a stray curl of her hair back over her bare shoulder, she waited patiently for his explanation.
"I'm going to prom with you," Derek stated simply.
Lydia snorted before she could catch herself, to which he frowned. "You didn't think you were going to go alone to face the kanima, did you?" he asked skeptically. She snorted again and shook her head, turning away from him to look at herself in the mirror once more. He was right, the green did look marvelously better on her than the red would. "I wouldn't be alone; I'd have Allison and Scott and Stiles. I'm sure Stiles would jump at the opportunity to escort me to another dance."
Her eyebrows raised and she fixed him with a chastening gaze. Derek growled in his throat, that sense of impotence he always felt around her - this tiny girl he could easily snap with his teeth - overwhelming him. Somehow, Lydia managed to throw her confidence in his face and make him believe that she just might be able to survive without his help.
"Oh, Stiles would kill himself to get a chance to take you to that dance, but he won't be doing it. I'm going with you, no questions."
Whirling to face him, stalking over until she was standing right in front of him glaring up at him, Lydia stabbed a finger into his chest. "Where do you think you get the right to show up in my bedroom and TELL me you're going to Prom with me? If you want to go to Prom with me, then you ASK, you don't demand it."
She huffed and crossed her arms again, glaring heatedly up at him. This little sprite could put him in his place so easily, a burly werewolf who was twice her size and at least twice her strength, it was bewildering. "You can't be serious right now," he lamented.
"You have no idea how serious I am," she replied simply, her green eyes boring into him, the sequins on her dress sparkling in the dying sunlight that filtered through the still-open window. "This is my first Prom, and I will not be attending it with a required escort. I'd rather go by myself than be hijacked into going with you. I have more self-respect than that."
Huffing out a breath, she turned away once more, walking to her closet to pull out her pajamas as if the discussion was over. Derek fumed stubbornly next to the window, his jaw tightening as he clenched his teeth. "Fine," he said finally. Lydia smiled only because she was facing away from him, into the closet, and knew he couldn't see her face. "Lydia... will you... gotoPromwithme?" He murmured the words so fast, she almost couldn't understand them. Turning and raising an eyebrow, a questioning look on her face, she smiled politely.
"What was that, Derek?" He glared daggers at her and clenched his fists against his sides.
"Will you... go to Prom with me?" he repeated, forcing a smile that looked like a grimace and made Lydia smile in amusement. "PLEASE?"
Giggling, she turned back to the closet and pretended to rummage through more of her clothes. "I'll have to think about it." He groaned audibly and she heard a thump as he banged his head back against the wall in irritation. "I mean... I have a lot of options..."
"Oh, come on already!"
"Okay, fine. You did ask first..." Derek threw his hands up in defeat and shook his head. Lydia smiled in amusement and pulled her pajamas out of the closet, tossing them onto the bed.
"You can pick me up at eight, oh, and Derek?" she chirped pleasantly, to which he frowned over at her, "Don't forget to wear a boutonniere."
He groaned and slipped out through the window, grumbling grouchily to himself as he climbed down off of her roof and disappeared into the night.