Chapter Seven: Star Girl
Song Inspiration: Big Jet Plane By Angus & Julia Stone
Malia had thought a lot about what Lydia said the rest of the day. She stopped by the store after school and grabbed a bag of white chocolate covered pretzels, two root beer floats, and some french fries... All Scott's favorites.
She let herself into his home, knowing Melissa would still be at the hospital. She takes a second to admire it all: the stone fireplace, the hardwood floors, and the cinnamon aroma that perfumes the kitchen from the candle that sits on the counter. She inhales deeply and sighs. She doesn't know when this place became home, but it leaves her reeling at the familiar feeling that fills her chest with bubbling nostalgia.
Maybe it was the late night dinners that Scott would invite her to join when Melissa would get off late and come through the doors with Chinese takeout. He knew that Malia was left alone a lot, usually having to fend for herself with her dad going out of town a lot for his job or a hunting trip with his buddies. Frozen dinners can only hold a person over for so long, so Scott soon made it a habit of welcoming her over. It became an unspoken arrangement every Monday, Wednesday, and Friday. Or could it be countless times they had broken into the school and snuck into the library late at night when neither of them could find sleep. The first night it had happened, Malia had crawled in through Scott's window and shook him awake, leaving him bristled in surprise. "'Lia, what are you doing?" He had asked her with sleepy smile and lazy eyes that she found so endearing. "I couldn't sleep." She had said. He had pulled her into his arms and they had just laid there for a while, staring up at the ceiling in an effort to look anywhere but each other."Will you read to me?" She whispered in the dimmed lighting of his room where all she could see was the deep pools of his eyes. They had ran to the school and Scott had let Malia pick out any book that she wanted. She stood in front of him with a book pressed against her chest and her whole body vibrating in excitement. They had spent hours sitting, him reading and her listening. And then when they had returned to his house, he offered her a place to stay. He had insisted that she take the bed and he'd make a palette on the floor, but she shook off the sentiment, demanding that they share. It was his bed, she felt wrong kicking him out of it and she knew he'd never let her sleep on the floor. And so there they had laid with a foot of space in between them, both pretending to be asleep, but the pounding of their hearts giving them both away. Neither of them ever mentioned it.
She walks up the winding staircase and his door is cracked open and she can hear his breathing and his body moving around on his bed. She opens it wider and stands quietly in the doorway watching him looking for something underneath his bed.
"Scott" She says, letting her presence be known as she moves further into the door.
Scott hits his head on the bottom of the bed, letting out a grumble.
"I thought you were going to dig up evidence with Lydia." He says. No "hello" or "good to see you".
"I think we need to talk." She says apprehensively, taking tentative steps towards his bed.
He still hasn't looked at her since she walked into the room. "Now's not really a good time, I'm meeting up with Liam and Mason to read more about the ghost riders."
"Can't I come with you?"
"No."
"No?"
"Malia, no, okay? I just... I think we need some space from each other." He says solemnly, finally raising his gaze to meet her stony expression. Even then, she can see how his eyes soften when they're trying to stay hardened.
She can feel her jaw clench and the urge to growl feels impossible to squash, yet she stands her ground. "Look, I'm sorry if I hurt your feelings earlier. It didn't say what I did to push you away or to whatever. I'm just trying to figure this thing out like everyone else. I think I used to have someone important to me that helped me stay in control. I'm not going to apologize for seeking answers."
He looks down at his feet and doesn't say anything. This is why she doesn't let herself love people, because she always ends up disappointing them.
"This person, I don't even know if they're real or if it's all in my head. But what I do know is that I feel like I've lost something. And I think this person helped make sure that I never lost myself."
She sits next to him on the bed and leans her head on his shoulder. Being vulnerable doesn't come easy to her, but she tries for him.
"But no matter who this person is, it doesn't change the fact you when I do get lost, you always help me find myself." She grabs his hands. "And that's something I'll never be able to repay you for. You're invaluable to me, Scott." A pause fills the room. "Please say something." She begs, nuzzling further into him.
His fingers curl around hers. "You didn't hurt my feelings, I hurt my own. I should be happy that there is someone that got you through stuff that maybe I couldn't. You belong deeply to yourself, and you have never needed anyone to rescue you. But I guess, in some ways, I wanted to. Even if you could do it all on your own. Because I care about you. A lot." He confesses.
"And I care about you. A lot." She smirks, loving how his hesitation mirrors her own. Here they are, still skirting around their feelings. But there are other ways of saying I like you. And they are anything but conventional.
"Survive for me, because I can't live without you."
"Call me when you get home so I know you got there safely."
"Let me help you."
Maybe theirs is "I care about you. A lot."
Scott smiles, his dimples deepening into two crescent moons.
"It's more complicated than that, you know." He says admittedly, facing her.
"I know." She replies. "But I'm not good at complicated, regrettably. But I will be. I'm working on it, because this-" She reiterates, while tapping his nose with the tip of her finger. "This matters to me."
Scott pushes a stray curl behind her ear. "You're cute when you get all sappy." His smile grows bigger.
"You should see me when I'm angry, it's adorable." She teases, shoving him lightly in the shoulder.
He notices the bag of stuff next to her. "So are those apology snacks? Not that you need to be sorry for anything, but I'll still accept them." He says cheekily, reaching over and ripping open the bag of pretzels.
Malia rolls her eyes. "They're for both of us." She gripes, snatching them out of his hands and popping one in her mouth with a grin.
"Return the pretzels or I'll be forced to take action." Scott says in mock seriousness, causing Malia to laugh and slightly choke on her mouth full of pretzels.
"Ooohhh, I'm so scared." Her giggles growing louder at his pouting. "I'm serious, I'm shaking in my boots." She adds, only making him pout even more.
"I warned you, Tate." He says before launching at her and begins tickling her every place he can reach.
Pretzels go flying around the bed and Malia's laugh and feeble protests envelop the room. Scott laughs along with her, but refuses to give in.
"You know, this never would have happened if you had kindly returned my pretzels." He says with fake regret, but is cut off when Malia pokes him in the belly button which causes him to jump and her to smirk triumphantly in his direction.
"I win, you lose. Who's the Alpha now?" Her smirk stays firmly in place and her eyes twinkle in amusement.
And something about the way she says that turns him on more than he's ever been in his life. He feels desire lick a path of fire up his thighs and straight to this groin. His eyes darken and he can smell her arousal. The chemo signals blend together into a suffocating mass of sexual tension and unresolved feelings.
He goes at her again, playing it off as making a move for the pretzels.
The flash of lust is still evident in her eyes, but there's also caution.
"I call a ceasefire! I also brought fries and root beer floats for us to dip them in..." She says, but her words trail off. Somewhere in between their play wrestling and the building tension, they had fell over onto the floor with Scott landing on top of her. Their noses were touching, just barely brushing against each others and she can taste the minty flavor of his breath.
Her brows furrow. She wants to, but should she?
She leans in.
So does he.
It starts light and airy, a shy press of lips. And then it becomes persistent, longer, deeper. And then his tongue peeks out, caressing her bottom lip to test the waters. And she returns it when her teeth graze his in unison. Their nose are bumping against each other and his hands awkwardly move around until they clench against her hips. She paws at his shirt, grabbing fist fulls of the fabric between her fists. Her eyes flutter open at the same time as him.
"Wow..." Is all he can find the ability to say. He can't think of words to articulate just how badly he wanted to do that again. And again.
Her lips and bruised and swollen to a dark pink and her cheeks flood with color.
"Do you- do you want to try that again?" She asks, staring at him dumbly with stars in her eyes and a goofy grin she can't seem to wipe from off her face even if she wanted to. Her fingers run over his uneven jawline and she beams at the crooked smile he graces her with.
"Yes, absolutely. I 100% want to try that again." He rambles and she chuckles. He catches her lips mid-laugh and her smile returns. He pecks her lips a few more times and she lets herself enjoy it.
"I guess Lydia was right." She blurts.
"About what?"
"About you."
