Disclaimer: I don't own Teen Wolf. I only own my characters and plot. If you recognize it, I probably don't own it.
The Unexpected
Chapter Three: The Lowest Man on The Totum Pole is Usually The Nicest
The air was brisk and the sun was slowly making it's way towards the horizon. Cara had been sitting on a plastic chair that sat outside her front door for almost an hour. Boyd had told her that, whether she liked it or not, she would be going home tonight. He let her stay at his house again on Thursday night but refused to let her go one more day with out going home. After her detention she went to find him at his work and stayed with him until he was finished, prolonging the wait. When he was done he almost had to drag her back to her house.
So there she sat, playing scenerios over and over in her head. What she would say when she went inside. How she would act. She was positive that both Susan and Steve knew she was out there. Since, if her mom didn't, she would have left for bingo or the bar by now. But, she was avoiding her too. That made her feel no better though.
Taking a deep breath, she stood. She self conciously pulled on Boyd's shirt. She had mentally prepared herself to be called a slut, or something along those lines, by one of them since she was clearly wearing a men's shirt. It had been four days. And no calls. No missing persons mishaps. Nothing. Her mom and her dead-beat step father didn't care. She knew this. But, that didn't mean it didn't hurt to think that only one person in the whole entire world fully and truly loved her, and they weren't her parents.
Her hand grasped the door handle and she turned it slowly.
"Look who finally decided to come inside." Cara heard the second her foot crossed the threshold. Steve. She didn't respond. "Have fun out in the real world, sweatheart?"
The blonde held her tongue still, and silently removed her coat to place it on the hook beside the door. Then slipped off her flip flops.
"And wearing a guy's shirt. What have you been doing these past few days." Her mother said from the table. She had a lit cigerette set between her index and middle finger while she sat over a pile of discruntled papers. Cara still said nothing. "Oh, thank god you brought back my flops." That comment was what made Cara lash out at her mother.
"I'm gone for a week, you have no idea where I am, and you were worried about your flip flops?"
"Well, of course I was worried about you sweets." Her mom said after she took a drag from her cigerette, white smoke leaking from her lips while she spoke, looking as if Cara had something absolutely outragous. "If you would have been gone for a few more days, I was going to file a report."
"A few more days? Mom, you're supposed to file a report when someone is gone for forty-eight hours. I was gone for over one hundred and twenty. You should have filed one three days ago." Cara looked back and forth from Steve to Susan a few times, wondering if Steve was that much of an idiot too.
"I knew you were going to come back. If you were gone longer than a week, I was going to file a report. Why are you getting so upset?"
"That! That is the exact reason why I'm getting upset, mom! You don't even act like you're my mom. You treat me like I'm a pesty roomate who leaves their dirty dishes in the sink, okay? You treat Steve better than me and you gave birth to me." Susan looked back down to her pile of papers. She stayed silent. "Mom! Look at me!" Susan didn't look up. She took a drag from her Camel Light and went to write something down on the parchment.
Cara marched over to her mother, ripped the cigerette from her fingers and smothered it on the table, leaving a black soot mark. Susan looked up at her daughter in disbelief. "What the hell?!" She screamed.
"Stop avoiding this mom! We need to talk this out!"
"I'm not going to stand here and listen to you tell me I'm a bad mother!" Susan stood to tower over Cara. But she didn't back down, she only straightened her back to appear taller.
"Than stop acting like one! Tell me you love me more than Steve! Tell me! Choose your child over your husband for once. Prove to me that you aren't a souless piece of trailer trash!" Cara screamed at her mother. Susan stood silently. Looking directly into Cara's emerald eyes. They reminded her so much of her father's eyes. Cara got nearly everything from her father. Every admirable quality was taken from him. Her blonde hair was her father's. Her eyes, her fair complexion, her small build. The only thing that stood out to have come from her mother was the curly texture of her hair. But, Cara's hair was young and bouncy still. Susan's red hair was frizzy and damaged from avid straightening and lack of care.
It was almost physicaly painful for Susan to look into her only child's young and innocent eyes and tell her that her father wasn't coming back. That was when Susan really hit rock bottom. She didn't used to be so callous. She didn't used to smoke a pack a day. Susan was actually a mildly loving mother in the beginning. But, the day that Zach told her that he was leaving was the day that Susan stopped caring. She loved Zach. He was her first boyfriend, first kiss, first everything. He gave her her first child, and she was almost positive that he loved her too. But, one day he was gone, and he left behind two heartbroken girls in his wake.
She couldn't bare the thought of someone else leaving like that again.
Susan stayed silent, still looking into the eyes of her daughter. Her daughter, who grew up too fast to take care of the very person who's supposed to take care of her. She backed up and sat back down at the table to finish filling out paperwork for Steve's compensation.
Tears welled up in Cara's eyes, but she made sure they didn't fall down her cheeks. With a locked jaw, she took a deep breath and went to her room without saying another word. She grabbed a pair of leggings and a long john shirt. Luckily, the bathroom was directly next to her bedroom. She ran to it still, and took a long shower, breathing in the steam. It stung her lungs a litte, but she kind of liked it. After she got out she quickly dressed and braided her soaked hair. The only way she could get it to stay put in a braid was when it was wet. She brushed her teeth and left the bathroom to put on a pair of white sneakers. She walked out of her room and removed her coat from the hook once again.
It's Friday night, the last place I wanna be is home.
"I'm going to Boyd's." Cara told her indifferent guardians.
"Is that who you were staying with this whole time? I have to say sweets, spending so much time with a man, especially staying over, doesn't make you look good." Susan called from the kitchen, another cigerette hanging from her mouth. Cara ignored her statement, turning to open the door.
Before she stepped out she yelled back, "Don't wait up."
An unexpected knock on Stiles' door was what broke him from his intense researching. He jumped, quickly shutting his laptop and standing to open his bedroom door. Ready to defend the mess on his floor to his father. Running excuses through his head. A research project. Homework. Studying. Personal curiosity. Yeah, right. Project it is. But when he opened it, he was relieved to see Scott instead, and let out a sigh.
"Get in here." He snapped, opening the door wider for his best friend to enter. "You gotta see this, dude." He briskly closed the door behind Scott and continued to speak.
"What, did that blonde profess her undying love for you or something?" Scott asked, looking at his frantic friend.
"Wh-What? No!"
"Well, you need to make a move. Lydia won't mind. I promise you." He told Stiles regretfully. Stiles waved him away and walked to his desk.
"No, man, listen. I've been up all night. Websites, books, all this information."
"How much Adderall have you had today?" Scott asked, watching Stiles sit in his desk chair and spin to face him. Although, spastic behavior from his best friend was never a bizzare accurance.
"A lot. Doesn't matter, okay? Just listen." Stiles quickly redirected the conversation to the important matter at hand.
"Oh, is this about the body? Did they find out who did it?" Scott lazily threw his bag onto the floor beside Stiles' bed and took a seat.
"No, they're still questioning people. Even Derek Hale."
"Oh, the guy in the woods that we saw the other day."
"Yeah! Yes, but that's not it, okay?" Stiles flailed his arms around, as if to rake the topic back in from being adrift.
"What then?" Stiles took a breath, calming himself down.
"You remember the joke from the other day?" He looked at Scott while he held a piece of parchment tightly in his right hand. "Not a joke anymore." Scott's eyes widened.
"You had sex with that girl in the back of your car? Way to go, dude!" The floppy haired boy stood to give Stiles a high five but was only batted away.
"No, dude, no." Stiles said, pushing Scott to sit down again. After telling him about helping Cara on Monday night, the first thing that he said was that he missed a generous oportunity to copilate in the backseat of Stiles' jeep. "The wolf. The bite in the woods." He said, watching for recognition from Scott. Nothing. "I started doing all this reading. Do you even know why a wolf howls?" So much new information was swimming in Stiles' head, he could barely keep his thoughts straight. The added drugs didn't help much either.
"Should I?" Scott reflected back apathetically.
"It's a signal. Okay. W-When a wolf's alone it howls to signal it's location to the rest of the pack. So if you heard a wolf howling that means others could have been near by. Maybe even a whole pack of 'em." Scott's eyes widened.
"A whole pack of wolves?" He asked, apprehensively.
"No," Stiles said, hearing how his next statement would sound in his head and knowing that it wouldn't sound nearly as dignified out loud. "Werewolves."
All the fright dropped from Scott's demeanor. His face scrunched annoyingly while he stood from the bed.
"Are you seriously wasting my time with this? You know I'm picking up Alison in an hour." Scott picked up his bag, ready to leave. Stiles scrambled to stop him.
"I saw you on the field today Scott. Okay, w-what you did wasn't just amazing, alright? It was impossible." Stiles felt almost quitly for saying that. But, he hoped that Scott wouldn't be so naive as to think he magically gained that talent over night. But magically from a werewolf bite. Yeah, definitely more believable.
"Yeah, so I made a good shot." Scott mumbled, trying another attempt to leave but was only held back again by his best friend who removed his backpack entirely to try and keep him from leaving again.
"No! You made an incredible shot. I mean, the way you moved, your speed, your reflexes. You know, people can't just suddenly do that over night." He exclaimed. Scott looked down, trying not to hear the disbelief in his friend's voice over how well he played. "And theres the vision and the senses. And don't think I don't notice that you don't need your inhaler anymore." He listed, moving his arm for emphasis.
"Okay! Dude, I can't think about this now." Scott said, pushing the thoughts from entering his head. "We'll talk tomorrow."
"Tomorrow?! What, no! The full moon's tonight! Don't you get it?"
"What are you trying to do?! I-I just made first line, I got a date with a girl who I-I can't believe wants to go out with me. Everything in my life is somehow perfect. Why are you tring to ruin it?" Stiles looked up at Scott from his chair after he was done yelling.
"I'm trying to help." He said. "You're cursed, Scott. You know, and it's not just the moon that'll cause you to physically change. It'll also just so happen to be when your blood lust'll be at it's peek."
"Blood lust?" He deadpanned. I can't believe we are actually having this conversation right now, Scott thought to himself.
"Yeah, you're urge to kill." Stiles replied seriously. It seemed that Stiles was serious enough for the both of them.
"I'm already starting to feel an urge to kill, Stiles." He jumped to grab a book off his desk, a big leather bound one with old yellowing pages.
"You have to hear this," He said, opening the book to read a passage from it. "'The change can be caused by anger or anything that raises your pulse.' Alright? I've never seen anyone raise your pulse like Alison does. You've gotta cancel this date." Stiles stood to retreive Scott's cell phone from his bookbag that was discarded on the bed during their debate. "I'm gonna call her right now."
"What are you doing?"
"I'm cancelling the date." Scott hastely grappled to take the phone back from Stiles.
"No! Give it to me!" Scott grabbed Stiles by his shirt and hurdled him into the wall. The scrawnier boy's back made contact with the hard surface roughly, causing him to wince. Scott balled up the front of Stiles' shirt in his fist and raised a menacing hand as if to punch the him. Stiles prepared to recieve a hit, clenching his jaw and shutting his eyes instinctively. But it never came. After realizing what he was doing, Scott released Stiles. Anger flushed through his body and her turned to swat his hand at the desk chair, knocking it over onto the floor. His chest rose and fell while he tried to catch his breath.
His eyes fell to his best friend, who looked at him knowingly. But didn't say anything.
"I-I'm sorry." Stiles still didn't say anything, the shock of the event that just occured still fresh and stinging. "I-I gotta go get ready f-for that party." Scott walked to the door, looking back at his friend who was still in the same place, breathing deeply. "I'm sorry." He said again, turning and leaving quickly.
Stiles threw his head back against the wall and pushed off to pick up his chair. But when he did, he saw something that made his blood run cold. Aw shit.
Three claw marks were left in the leather of the chair.
"I don't ever want to go back." Cara sighed, looking up at the star studded sky.
"C'mon Cara. You need to stop overreacting." Boyd said, looking over at the blonde next to him. They were on the roof of Boyd's house, watching the full moon rise in the sky. There was a fuzzy blue blanket underneath them and a bag of Doritos between them. Boyd even snagged a bottle of his parent's white chocolate vodka, it was currently being clutched by the blonde. He knew how to make her feel better, every time.
"I'm not overreacting. I don't ever want to go back. That woman out right admitted that she doesn't love me as much as she loves Steve." Gulp. "I thought I was getting somewhere tonight Boyd. I really did. But, turns out," Gulp. "I was going exactly where I go every time I try to talk some sense into her." Gulp. "Straight to No One Gives a Fuck About You-Ville." She said as she took yet another swig of the alcohol.
"Ah, c'mon. I give a fuck about you, Curly." Boyd said, snatching the bottle from the blonde and taking another swig. He looked up at the orange and pink sky and laughed.
"What?" Cara inquired, chewing a Dorito.
"The world is so big, Cara. What are we meant to do in it? How are small people like us going to make a difference, be remembered?"
"Well, you aren't small, Boyd. You're quite the opposite. I feel for the kids who have to sit behind you in class, honestly." She giggled, reaching over to rub his head affectionately. He swatted her away. "It's funny because I always call you Tiny, but you're actually way, way, way, way bigger than me." He laughed again. Because of that exact fact, she was always drunk before him. It was one of his favorite parts about drinking with her.
When half the bottle of vodka was gone, Boyd decided to put the lid on and set it aside. Since, Cara was the one who did most of the drinking, she was absolutely hammered. While Boyd was still mostly coherent.
"I feel like a hero!" Cara sang out loud. "And you are my herione! Do you know that your love is the sweatiest sin!" Boyd tried to quiet the girl while she flailed her arms around to an imaginary song.
"I'm pretty sure you just said sweatiest, Cara. That's definitely not how the song goes, and I don't even know what you're singing." She shook her head quickly, pointing a finger excitedly at him.
"No, no, no, no. I changed it because when you have sex you get really sweaty. And obviously they were talking about sex, because that's a sin and I think I made it better so shut your fucking mouth." He laughed, glad that she isn't singing anymore. She yawned and leaned against Boyd, resting her frizzy head on his shoulder.
"Don't you dare fall asleep, Curly." He reprimanded, shaking his shoulder to make her move. She whined and sat up.
"Fine!" She yelled at him, looking back up at the sky. The moon was high up in the sky, shining on them pleasantly. She smiled, bending her knees to her chest and wrapping her arms around her legs. Boyd did the same, but instead rested his elbows on his knees, looking up at the glowing constellations. A loud clanking drew her attention away though.
"Hey, that's Stilinski's jeep!" She exclaimed, pointing down at it excitedly as it drove down the street. "Slites! Sitles! I-I mean Stiles! Stiles! Dammit, wait up!" Cara went to get up to wave the poor kid down, but Boyd grabbed her arm and kept her from probably severly injuring herself.
"Cara, calm down. The kid is driving."
She huffed and brought her legs back up to rest her chin on them. Boyd sighed, knowing that her pout was coming. Drunk Cara had three phases. Phase one was little girl Cara. She always pouted and acted like a little girl. For Boyd, it was like being back in third grade again, except much more alcohol and swearing.
The blonde stuck her bottom lip out and furrowed her blonde eyebrows. Suddenly, after only a few moments of her renowned pout, she broke her concentration and looked over at her best friend.
"I have a question." She stated, looking expectantly at him.
"Okay."
"How low on the totempole should I go for a guy?" She asked seriously. Boyd looked at her, waiting for her to laugh. Surely, she was joking. But when she didn't, he did.
"Are-Are you serious? Cara, we are the bottom of the totempole, you can't get much lower than us." She frowned.
"Really?"
"Yes, Curly. I thought you would have known that by now." He said, still stifling his laughs.
"Oh," She said, slumping back into herself as Boyd's chuckles began to die down.
"Who is this about, anyways?" He grilled. She shrugged, picking at the shingles beside her. Not even her drunk self was dumb enough to give that up.
"No one," He gave her an unimpressed look.
"I'm not stupid. You were literally just willing to walk off a roof for a kid who was driving by. It's Stilinski, isn't it?" He pressed, looking at her with those eyes that could see directly inside of her. Not willing to concede, she started to sing again. Phase two: slutty Cara.
"I just wanna see you strip right now, cause it's late, babe! I just wanna see you strip, girl, take your time with it!" She screeched loud enough for a few lights in the houses across the street flicked on. "Girl, I just wanna see you strip! Goddamn you sexy, for me! Goddamn you sexy, b-"
"Shut up!" Boyd yelled, clamping a hand over her mouth. "That's it, time to go inside." He said, gently pulling the intoxicated girl from the ground. When he bent over to pick up the bottle, the Doritos, and the blanket, the girl slapped him on the bum and continued to scream song lyrics.
"Got my shades on, and my Jays on! In the club with a pocket full of ones! This girl booty outta control! Then she go up and down the pole!" Before Boyd could snatch the girl, she ran down to his bedroom window and leaped inside, still yelling. "Which one Imma take home?! Get my freak on! If you ain't freakin' you ain't sneakin'! You think I'm playin'? No I'm not! Lemme see you back it up and drop!" She ran through his house, discarding her shoes and her socks and danced through all of the rooms until she reached the kitchen. "Yeah, I wanna see your legs in the air! Baby don't worry about your hair, or those tracks! I don't give a damn about that! In the club and they playin' my song! Turn it up and play it all night long! If you think you can, and you know you can, Imma give you all this money, money, money!"
By the time Boyd set all the stuff down and ran to find the girl she was on his kitchen table, dancing as provocatively as she always did when she was heavily intoxicated.
"C'mon Cara, not right now." He sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose.
"Sing the chorus with me, Boyd! C'mon! I just wanna see you strip right now cause it's late b- well you have to sing!" She yelled, stomping her foot on one of the placemats. He sighed, squeezing his eyes shut. "Sing! I just wanna see you strip right now cause- Boyd!"
"Cara get off the table!"
"Not until you sing with me!"
"No!"
"Yes!"
"No!"
"Yes!"
"No!"He yelled, it was so loud he was afriad the neighbours heard him. Cara shrunk down and slid off the table. Boyd angry was never a pleasant sight.
"Sorry," She conceded, slinking past him to lay on the couch with her face in a pillow. Boyd let out a large breath, sulking back to his room to put the Doritos back in the kitchen, the white chocolate vodka back in his parent's liquer cabnet, and the blanket in the laundry room for him to clean tomorrow. Boyd hated yelling at Cara when she was drunk. She always took it harder. If she was sober she would have yelled right back, no problem. But when she was inebriated, she took everything so seriously. It irritated him to no end that she was so different that even her drinking symptoms were backwards. She was still in phase two, though. So, after heaving a great sigh, he slowly walked into his living room where Cara was lying face down on the couch still.
He threw all pride to the wind and took in a deep breath before screaming, "I just wanna see you strip right now cause it's late, babe!"
Her head snapped up and she had a huge grin on her face. She quickly scrambled up to stand in front of him while they both sang the dirty song.
"Girl I just wanna see you strip, girl, take your time with it! Girl I just wanna see you strip! Goddamn you sexy, for me! Goddamn you sexy, baby! Godddamn you sexy! Girl I just wanna see you!"
"Pants, shirt, you can take it off! Panties, bra, you can take it off! Red bottom heels, you can take 'em-wait wait, leave 'em on cause I like my woman tall!" Cara sang loudly on her own while Boyd watched her slowly go into phase three: sleepy Cara.
"You got a hot mamma, you're hotter than a sauna! I wanna peel them clothes off her body like a banana! The only reason I dress you in that designer, how you do that, is to get you out that Dolce and Gabbana! I throw this money up! She watch it all f-fall! Too-toot that thang up, for a boss. Anything you're wanting laby- I mean, baby, you can have it all. Startin' with my last name, now they call you Miss-Misses McCall!" She finished, grabbing Boyd's arm so he knows to join her for another chorus.
"Girl I just wanna see you strip right now cause it's late babe! Girl I just wanna see you strip, girl, take your time with it! Girl I just wanna see you strip! Goddamn you sexy, for me! Goddamn you sexy, baby! Goddamn you sexy! Girl I just wanna see you!"
Cara did a weird spinning dance move while she was holding Boyd's arm and ended up pulling him down to the ground with her when she drunkenly, not to mention tiredly, stumbled. They were laughing and cackling and Boyd felt like his lungs were shrinking because he was having difficulty pulling in air. When he finally caught his breath he looked over to see Cara passed out beside him. One last chuckle floated into the air before he stood to pick the petite blonde up into his arms and carry her to his bedroom. An air mattress was already blown up and on the ground beside his bed from the last week that she stayed at his house. So he gently laid her down on it and moved to ready himself for his own much needed rest.
He reached out to turn his lamp off once he was under his covers and slowly fell asleep to the sound of snores coming from beside his bed.
After staying at Boyd's house all of Saturday and most of Sunday, Cara begrudgingly decided it was time for her to go home. It was decided. Boyd's parents were due home that evening and he thought it wouldn't be a good idea to lead them to think that she had overstayed her welcome. So she helped him with his chores and removed all traces of her being there before she embarked on her long trek home.
When she got there she blatantly ignored both of her authority figures and stayed in her room until Monday the next morning. She got up earlier than usual, took a shower, dressed, and used a copius amount of Susan's hair gel to tame her hair while it was still damp. She adorned a grey baseball tee that had forrest green quarter sleeves, a pair of skinny acid wash dark jeans, and the pair of white sneakers she wore to Boyd's on Firday night.
No one was awake still, and after eating breakfast and brushing her teeth she left for her bus stop.
When she made it to school she waited for Boyd in their usual spot and enjoyed the sun on her pale face. When Boyd showed up a few minutes after her arrival they greeted each other warmly and traded pleasantries. After their morning routine they split ways and went to their classes.
When it was finally time to walk into Harrison's jail cell of a classroom, Cara was anxious. The crude teacher didn't look up to acknowledge her with a condescending greeting, so she quickly made her way to her desk. She wasn't the target of harsh humiliation during the entire class, in fact she wasn't called on once the whole time. So when the class was over she aprehensively approached his desk.
"Uh, Mister Harrison?" He looked up from his papers and reguarded the girl with an impassive glare.
"Yes?"
"Um, do I have to report to detention today? Or am I done with them now?" He leaned over his desk, crossing his arms and sighing.
"What did I say when we spoke in the hall?" He asked. Cara helplessly shrugged, clutching the strap of her bag tightly. Other students were beginning to come in and wait for the class to start.
"I don't remember."
"I said that you would be having these detentions for a long time. Has it been a long time yet, Miss Rodgers?" He patronized the girl with his words, making her face go red with anger.
"I'm not sure, sir." She said through clenched teeth. Being made a fool in front of the kids who had decided to report to class early was not what she had in mind when she aproached Harrison.
"Well, I don't think it has. I think that you need to report to detention today and everyday this week, also." Cara's mouth opened in rage. Her nostrils flared and her face grew hot. The only reason she was getting so worked up was because she was hell bent on staying calm, and not being able to say what was on her mind made her insides tense like a shaken bottle of soda.
"But, Mister Harrison, I have been nothing if not a pleasant and compliant student for the past week." She said clenching her fist at her side so that the teacher could not see it.
"Would a pleasant and compliant student stand here and argue with me? I don't think so. So please, move on to your next class Miss Rodgers." He stated with finality, looking back down at the papers on his desk. With white hot anger pumping through her veins, she turned and stalked slowly out of the class.
"Cara!" She heard someone yell from behind her. She turned to come face to face with Stiles Stilinski himself, running out of the very class she just left. She stopped and took a deep breath, not wanting to take her anger and frustration out on the innocent boy. "Cara, hey." He said after he caught up to her. She flashed him a tight-lipped smile.
"Hey, Stiles." He tried to suavely lean against the wall, but stumbled a little and hastely straightened himself out again, crossing his arms momentarily over his chest. Then thought better of it and let them dangle at his sides.
"Wha-What's up?" He asked, straightening his yellow graphic t-shirt.
"Not much. Hate Harrison's guts, but not much." Stiles nodded his head at her statement.
"How-"
"So-"
They both went to talk at the same time and then laughed for a moment before Stiles spoke up again.
"You go first." He said, using a small hand gesture. Cara had to fight to keep a grin off her face and brought her hands to both of her bag straps.
"Uh, how are you?" She asked lamely. He chuckled a little, rubbing the back of his head.
"Okay, I guess. I mean, I-I have Harrison's class next so how good could I possibly be?" He joked, never dropping his contagious smile. "So, what did you do this weekend?"
"I got a little hammered on Friday night actually, but I think I had fun." Stiles laughed.
"Did you go to Lydia's party?" He asked, leaning against the wall again, but this time he didn't stumble. Cara's eyebrows furrowed and she shook her head lightly, causing her hair to bounce around her head.
"No, I got drunk at my friend's house. Just me and him. I didn't even know there was a party." Cara replied, deserting her straps and crossing her arms over her chest.
"No wonder I didn't see you there." He said, chuckling nervously. "Your-uh, your friend, are you-are you guys close?" Stiles stuttered out.
"Um, yeah. You could say that." Cara said, lifting her right shoulder carelessly. Stiles nodded, reaching up to itch behind his ear compulsively.
"Thats cool." He uttered.
"So what's it like being invited to a party at the Lydia Martin's house?" The blonde inquired, fingering the bottom of her top. Nothing made her more restless than trying to hold up a conversation with someone who either A) made her nervous or B) she didn't know or like. So finding something to do with her hands was high up on her list of stresses of the day.
"Uh, it's not, like, as glamorous as you'd think. I was dealing with my best friend's-uh, drama for most of the night so. I guess I'm not the right person to ask that-um, particular question." He said, fumbling slightly. Cara nodded. Regretfully, her eyes landed on the clock behind Stiles' head. She had a minute and a half to get to class.
"I gotta get to class."
"Right, yeah. Me too." He said, watching her walk around him to report to her next class of the day. His eyes followed her down the hallway until she turned to walk up the stairs.
He shook his head to himself.
Get your head in the game, Stilinski.
A/N
So ya. okay well there's chapter threee. sorry if there are any mistakes. I try my best.
Honestly, coming up with titles is the most fun, and this one wasn't that great but the next two are hysterical I promise you.
Anyways, much love to the five people who follow the story and the one who faved. It means the world.
-blahicantthinkofaname Xoxo
