HI! So, here's chapter two! I apologize for any mistakes; it's 2 a.m. here.
Disclaimer: I do not own Teen Wolf, only Esther. Similar content and dialogue probably originated from the show
TWO
"Hello?" a female voice called. "Scott? Esther?"
"In here aunt Melissa," I yelled back.
She rounded the corner into my room, looking very frazzled, but with her that wasn't unusual. She looked so much like mom. Same skin, same dark hair, same brown eyes. They were even the same height.
"Hi, honey," she said, giving me a hug.
"Hi, aunt Mel," I said into her shoulder.
God, she even hugged like mom.
"I am so sorry about the mix up, sweetheart. I cannot believe that Scott forgot to come and get you," she cried in exasperation at her only son.
"Yeah, well, boys will be boys," I smirked.
Now, let me make this clear. I love my cousin. Very much. But I will never hesitate to admit that he is not very good with remembering the important stuff.
Rolling her eyes and shrugging, my aunt grumbled, "I guess. But it was still stupid."
"Do you want some help with dinner?" I asked, laughing.
"Oh, yeah, definitely!" she exclaimed.
I followed her out of my room and into the kitchen asking her what we'd be cooking.
"Honestly, I'm not sure," she drifted off, looking through the cupboards and drawers.
As I rummaged through everything, I found pasta, tomato sauce and bread. All the things I needed to make what had been one of my mom's favorite meals. Spaghetti dinner: Leroux style.
"Okay, I know what we can do for dinner," I told my aunt.
"Great, because I don't," she smiled sheepishly.
"Well then, I guess I'll be surprising you then," I grinned. "I'll cook, you clean up and relax."
"Oh no, absolutely not! You just got here!" she exclaimed, waving me off.
"And you," I said, pushing her out of the kitchen, "have had a long day. Now go rest and relax. You need it."
"Alright," she looked a bit put off as she climbed the stairs to her room. "Just so you know, you'll be cooking for eight."
At that, I chocked a bit. I was expecting three, not over double that. However, I didn't want to look too phased. Once she'd left, I spun on my heel and went back into the kitchen. I started pulling out all the things that I needed for dinner. It wasn't exactly a fancy dinner but hey, I'm working with what I've got.
Everything was prepped and cooking. In the middle of making the cookies, my cousin walked into the kitchen, along with another boy with pale skin, close cropped hair and amber-brown eyes.
"Scott!" I cried elated, running into his arms.
He looked no different then that last time I'd seen him, which had been a little over a year ago. His hair was still shaggy and hanging in his dark brown eyes. His tanned skin was smooth and he was still skinny, his clothes hanging off of him. The only different thing was the couple inches he'd added.
"Hey, Esther," he grinned, lifting me up. "I'm so sorry about mixing up the times and not picking you up and stuff."
"Oh yeah! You just so happen to forget your cousin in a town she's never been to before, on the day of her arrival. No biggie," grumbled the other boy.
"Shut up, Stiles," Scott growled, smacking him on the back of his head.
Laughing, I put my arm around his shoulders. I had to stand on my toes to do it.
"Well, to make it up to me, you can set the table. Eight places, please," I said, pushing the cutlery towards him.
Deciding it would be best not to argue, wise decision, they left without a word and I decided now would be a good time to change. I sashayed to me room and walked into the closet. I picked out a cropped, royal blue, long sleeved top and paired it with a short chiffon skirt in the same colour, patterned with yellow daisies. I braided my long brown hair over one shoulder and touched up my makeup. Slipping on some leather bracelets, I went to check on how badly the boys had messed up on dinner.
Thankfully, they hadn't messed up at all. I told them just that.
"The confidence you harbour for us is just heart-warming," Stiles drawled sarcastically.
"You look great, Esther," Scott grinned.
I nodded at him and went to check on dinner.
"So-" the boys chorused.
"What exactly is for dinner?" Stiles asked.
"And why exactly did we set eight dinner places for dinner?" Scott finished.
"Well," I explained. "I'm cooking spaghetti and stuff for dinner and as for why you set eight places for dinner-"
My sentence was interrupted by the doorbell ringing.
"That would be because your mother has invited guests," I finished.
They left the kitchen to go and check on who'd arrived. I stayed in the kitchen. I'm not exactly good with new people.
There was a chorus of 'hi's and 'how are you's from the front door. Turning back to stir the sauce when a voice behind me said "Mom, where should I put these." That voice belonged to a very pissed off Scott.
"What's wrong with you, Mister Grumpy?" I chuckled.
"The people mom invited aren't exactly my favorite people," he grumbled. "C'mon, they wanna meet you."
I followed him out into the living room. Standing there were two men I didn't know, Stiles, aunt Mel, another woman and…Jackson.
Hi, he mouthed. I waved a little bit. A grin split across his lips.
"Esther," aunt Mel said. "This is Sheriff Stilinski, Stiles' dad, and Mister and Missus Whittemore and their son, Jackson."
I noticed Jackson flinch just the smallest bit when she said that. I wonder why? I guess I'll leave that to be answered on another day.
"It's nice to meet you all," I acknowledged.
"It's nice to meet you as well, dear," said.
Turning to my aunt, I asked, "Um, can I go check dinner?"
"Yeah, definitely," she said, waving me off.
I spun out of there, cutting through the dining room. Bad idea. On the wall, there was a painting. It was a mass of hot pinks and electric blues. Neon yellow, vibrant purples and lime green accompanying it.
"Oh my God!" I screeched. "Aunt Mel!"
She came running into the room, closely followed by everyone else.
"What? What's wrong? Are you hurt? Is it your back? Do you need your meds?" she asked at rapid fire pace, giving me the nurses once over.
"No," I bit out. "You hung the painting."
"Told you she'd be pissed," Scott laughed from the doorway.
"And I ignored you. I guess that was a bad call," she groaned.
Rolling my eyes and shaking my head, I gestured to the painting making 'I'm really annoyed' noises.
"I don't get what the big deal is," Stiles spoke up.
"It's her painting," Scott chuckled.
If looks could kill, Scott would be dead a hundred times over. I pivoted on my heel and stalked into the kitchen. Walking around to the stove I threw my hands up in the air and slammed them down on the counter. Could this get any more awkward?
"Oh, God," I moaned, collapsing my head into my arms.
"Need some help?" someone asked.
Looking up, I saw Jackson leaning against the door frame, an amused smile on his face. I rested my hand on my cheek and blew a piece of hair out of my eyes.
"I would love some help," I told him. "Can you cut up that bread and put it in the plan?"
"Yes, yes I can," he said, walking around the counter and starting the task I'd asked of him. "So, I didn't know you were an artist.
"Oh, yeah," I shrugged nonchalantly. "It's something I learnt from my mom." Which was true.
"You seem like you're very close with your mom," Jackson said.
"Yeah, was," I mumbled.
"Was?" Jackson asked, eyebrow quirked.
Oh shit!
"Am," I spat out. "Sorry. Just a bit distracted."
Jackson didn't look like he fully believed me, but he dropped the subject anyway. We kept the conversation light from there on.
The kitchen door crashed open and Scott and Stiles came in. At the sight of Jackson and I laughing and talking, their grins dropped and cloudy expression covered their faces.
"Why the grin, asshat?" he barked.
Shooting him a look that clearly said shut your mouthes, my head whipped around to Jackson. His jaw was clenched and eyes were hard. This was not going to end well.
"Scott, Stiles, go asked Mel when she wants dinner on the table," I ordered.
My cousin shot me an incredulous look, but Stiles seemed to get it and managed to push Scott out of the room.
Jackson was shaking his head and continuing to cut the bread, this time with a bit more force. He'd hurt himself, not to mention the counter, if he kept that up. Walking over to him, I gently placed my hand over his, halting his movements. His head shot up to look at me.
"Are you okay?" I asked.
"Yeah, it's just, like I told you earlier-"
"You and Scott don't get along," I interrupted. "Yeah, I remember. Why is that exactly?"
"Not sure, really," he shrugged. "We've never been friends."
"Okay," I drew out the word. "But, um, if you figure it out, let me know."
Looking a little unsure, he nodded. A huge smile broke out across my face, and I guess smiling is contagious, because he smiled too.
"You know, you have a beautiful smile," he told me.
Biting my lip, I looked down, blushing. I'm not exactly used to compliments from cute guys.
"Thank you," I muttered.
"Anytime," he grinned.