word count: 11,330
polyvore: username is 'sarcasticfina' - check under Collections for one named after this story to see all of Malia's fashion choices
episodes: 1x03 - pack mentality
IX.
Six years. That was how long Scott had known Malia. A ten-year-old girl with a chip on her shoulder that could've eclipsed the sun. But, it didn't. Over time, it shrunk. Light filtered through, revealing a scared little girl that needed and wanted friends. In the years that followed, Scott talked to her almost every day. Every good, bad, and terrible part of his life was shared with her. He was tethered to her, as much as he was to Stiles. There wasn't a day that went by that he didn't think of her. Of something he wanted to tell her, something that would make her laugh or smile or roll her eyes. To imagine a day, a week, a life without her in it was just… impossible. Even with how strange and complicated things had become lately, she was there. She was always there. And he couldn't wrap his head around the idea that she might not be. That he might've hurt her…
Scott stared at the bloody, torn up bus, his vision swimming, and his heart pounding so loudly that it blocked out everything else, until—
"Malia!" Stiles pulled his bag off his shoulder and started frantically searching for his phone.
"Why didn't she get a ride in with you?" Scott shook his head. "You haven't heard from her today?"
"She texted me last night that she was getting a ride from Allison." Stiles pulled his phone out and immediately dialed Malia's number, putting it on speaker for them both to hear. "Come on, come on, pick up…"
It rang through to her voice mail— 'Hey, this is Malia. Leave a message and I'll get back to you whenever.'
"Shit, shit, shit." Stiles hung up and dialed again. "Maybe she's just busy, right? There's no way that you actually… I mean, you wouldn't."
They hurried back into the school, thinking to search the halls while they continued to call them. Maybe they were busy. Maybe she forgot her phone or it was dead or she just turned the ringer off. Maybe she was at her locker, completely unaware of what was going on. Maybemaybemaybe. But, she had to be okay. Right? There was no other acceptable alternative. Because he wouldn't… He couldn't hurt Malia. He… He wasn't capable of that. It was Malia. And she was—
"It was a dream, Scott. You said it started out Allison and became Malia—" Stiles shook his head. "Why would either of them be there with you?"
It was logical. It made sense. But a hollow part of Scott just wasn't sure.
"Maybe the beginning of the dream was different. Maybe that was just my subconscious trying to cover up what really happened." Scott dialed Allison's number and held his phone to his ear, listening to it ring through. "I could've called Allison or Malia and asked them to meet me here. Something could've happened and I was triggered. I don't know! But, there's a bus covered in blood and I think I did it, Stiles." His heart felt like it was being crushed in a vice and his lungs stung like they used to when his asthma would kick in. "What if I hurt her? What if I killed her?"
"Which 'her' are we talking about?"
"Does it matter?"
"Honestly, yeah. A little. No offense to Allison, I barely know her, but Malia?" He stared at Scott seriously. "She's my best friend. She's like an angry older sister that always threatens to beat me up. Only we're the same age and the most she's done is sock me in the arm."
"Call her again." He pointed at Stiles' phone while he redialed Allison's number, searching the faces around him for any sign of the girls. As much as he was listening to Allison's phone ring, unanswered, he was listening to Stiles' phone, too.
'Hey, this is Malia. Leave a message and I'll get back to you whenever.'
'Hey, this is Malia. Leave a message—'
'Hey, this is Malia—'
'Hey, this is—'
'Hey—'
Scott squeezed his phone so tight he could feel it begin to whine under the pressure. He blew out an unsteady breath and loosened his grip. "She's not picking up. Neither of them are. What if I did this?"
"It could just be a coincidence, all right?" Stiles nodded. "A seriously amazing coincidence…"
"Just help me find them." His head swiveled from side to side. As his heart rate picked up, everything around him started to blur together. Faces, bodies, walls— it was all a distorted mass of confusion. "Do you see them?"
"No. And Malia's still not picking up. I'm gonna glue her phone to her hand after this. I bet she turned the ringer off, because of course she did. It's not like we live in a town with werewolves and recently released killers out for revenge or anything. No, wouldn't want to plan for that." Stiles chewed on his thumbnail. "You would've stopped, right? If it was Malia…" He grabbed Scott's shoulder, pulling at him so they were face to face. He stared at Scott searchingly, unable to mask the fear peeking through. "You couldn't really hurt her, right? Scott!"
"I can't— I can't breathe." Scott pulled away and abruptly lurched across the hall. He bent his head against a locker, trying desperately to control his breathing. Sweat beaded on his skin, his lungs burned, and his body tensed, every muscle coiled so tightly that his limbs ached. "Star Wars, burnt cookies, eyelash…" He gritted his teeth. "Star Wars, burnt cookies, eyelash."
Stiles stood next to him, checking that nobody else was paying attention. "What're you doing?"
Scott closed his eyes and repeated it, over and over again. A mantra to try and calm himself down.
Star Wars, burnt cookies, eyelash.
Red shirt.
"Red shirt. Red shirt. Red shirt."
His voice slowly gave away, until he was just mouthing it to himself.
Slowly, his breath came back to him, but the anxiety remained. A prickly sensation across his skin. And then, a sound.
Scott raised his head. Thump-thump-thump. Brow furrow, he turned on his heel, eyes darting around searchingly. He stumbled down the hallway, following it, the only distinct sound he could make out. Everything else was a distant rushing noise.
Thump-thump-thump.
He twisted and turned, blinking wildly, until—
He knocked into a person and his vision focused.
Allison.
Her books fell from her hands, clattering to the floor, and she laughed.
Scott stared at her a beat, shocked and dizzy, and then looked to her side.
A gust of air left him and his hand raised, pressed flat against his hammering heart.
Malia.
…
Malia frowned at Scott, who was staring at her with wide eyes, his mouth ajar. He looked like a dope.
"You scared the hell out of me!" Allison tucked her hair behind her ears, crouched down while she picked up her fallen books.
Malia joined her, grabbing a binder and a notebook before she stood, stacking them atop the ones in Allison's hands.
"You're okay." Scott's voice was low as he looked from Allison to Malia and back.
"Once my heart starts beating again, yeah." Allison tipped her head, eyeing him curiously. "What?"
"I- I'm just happy to see you."
Allison smiled, her cheeks flushed pink.
Malia shifted her feet awkwardly and searched for Stiles. She knew he had to be around there somewhere; he and Scott had planned to come in early to get in a quick lacrosse practice before class. Maybe he was still in the locker room…
The speaker suddenly rattled to life then, drawing her eye. "Attention students, this is your principal. I know you're all wondering about the incident that occurred last night to one of our buses. While the police work to determine what happened, classes will proceed as scheduled."
A collective groan went up from surrounding students, but Malia only frowned. What the hell happened to a bus that it was worth talking about?
Malia's attention was diverted, however, when Allison reached out and scrubbed her fingers through Scott's hair affectionately. "Save me a seat at lunch?"
He nodded jerkily. "Yeah."
As she walked past him, she turned back, saying to Malia, "Don't forget. Find me at break."
Malia half-smiled. "I will."
She grinned as she walked away and Malia looked at Scott. "Are you okay? You're acting weird."
Rather than answer, he stared at her, swaying a little, as if lost in a trance. And then he was reaching for her. Whatever she was expecting, it wasn't the tips of his fingers grazing her cheek with gentle uncertainty. It was a ghost of a touch, barely there, but Malia felt her heart stutter. Scott's touch fell lower, lightly brushing along her neck, his thumb pressing a little harder than the pads of his fingers. Despite herself, Malia shivered. A tingling sensation shadowed his touch, goosebumps flashing over her chest and across her shoulders.
"I thought…" He shook his head, blinking quickly.
"There you are!" Stiles rushed toward them, knocking against Scott's shoulder as he passed him before he was grabbing Malia up. He banded his arms around her in a hug and squeezed.
"Ow!" Disgruntled, she frowned at him. "What the hell?"
Letting her go, Stiles put his hands on her shoulders and stared at her. "We thought you were dead."
She glared, completely confused. "I'm not even late."
"I called you!" He yanked her bag off her arm and searched through it, digging her phone out and turning the screen in her direction. "Do you see this? Huh? Twelve missed calls!"
Malia shook her head slowly. "I guess I didn't hear it. We were singing along to the radio. Loudly."
Stiles let out a frustrated sigh and rubbed a hand over his forehead. "We are having a werewolf crisis! Do you understand that?" He tapped his foot impatiently. "How are we supposed to know that you didn't just get snatched up by Derek Hale and buried in his yard?"
Rolling her eyes, she snatched her phone back and shoved it in her bag. "I have no idea what happened that you're having a freak out, but try filling me in and maybe I'd take you a little more seriously."
"I killed you," Scott said, his voice distant and cracked.
Looking back at him, her brow knit. "What are you talking about?"
"I- I had a dream. You, me, Allison, we were on a bus and… I shifted. I attacked you and I…" He winced. "I clawed your throat open."
Malia swallowed tightly, a chilly sensation filling her stomach. "It was just a dream."
"Not exactly…" Stiles puts his hands on his hips and stared at her grimly. "The bus out back is torn up, covered in blood…"
She snorted, raising an eyebrow skeptically. "And you think Scott did that?"
"Why else would I dream about it?" Scott shook his head, his face falling mournfully. "I hurt someone."
His words rung in her ears like a punch to the gut.
…
Malia had a pencil behind her ear and another in her hand as she took notes in math class, intermittently glaring at her teacher for forcing her to learn any of what he was teaching. Truth be told, her mind was elsewhere. Stuck on that brief moment in the hallway, when Scott's fingers had gently swept across her cheek and down her neck. It was slightly dampened by the fact that he had a dream where he ripped out her throat… Maybe more than slightly. But, it was a dream. It didn't have to mean anything more than that he was afraid of what he could do when triggered. If they could just get that part under control, then he wouldn't have to be afraid.
A sharp knock echoed against the door and she jumped in her seat, jarred from her thoughts. The pencil behind her ear fell to her desk and then rolled off the edge, clattering to the floor. As she leaned out of her seat to pick it up, she heard a voice—
"Hey, Mr. Matthews, uh, is Malia here? It's an emergency."
Matthews' voice was dry. "What kind of emergency requires you to deliver it?"
"Uh…"
"You can wait until break, Mr. McCall."
"No, wait, please! I—"
The door closed with a snap, cutting him off.
Malia sat up in her seat, glanced at the window of the door, where a pleading Scott was staring back at her, and then rolled her eyes. "I have to go to the bathroom." Standing from her desk, Malia moved to the door.
Matthews stared at her through narrowed eyes. "I haven't given you permission, Miss Tate."
"Unfortunately, my bladder doesn't take requests." She looked back at him, brow raised.
With a sigh, he waved her off, and then returned to the lesson at hand.
Malia made her way into the hallway, closing the door behind her. She crossed the hall toward Scott, who was pacing in a misshapen circle. "What happened?"
He stopped where he stood and whirled on her, his expression twisted up with worry. "They found a body!"
"Shhh!" She glanced at the classroom but when no one came back, she turned back to him and frowned. "When? Where?"
"I don't know. I think it was in the woods. I just saw them wheeling him toward an ambulance. I thought he was dead but then he freaked out and started screaming. He was really torn up and covered in blood." Scott let out a choked sigh. "Malia, I did that."
"You don't know that."
"But I do!" He stared at her searchingly. "I attacked someone in that bus last night. I thought it was you or Allison or maybe my head was just trying to fill in the blanks. I don't know. But, I know I was there. I can feel it."
"Scott…" She reached for him, her fingers wrapping around his forearm and squeezing gently. "He's alive. So, whatever you did, you didn't kill him."
"But I could have."
"I don't want to downplay the seriousness of this, but let's just take this one step at a time, okay…? A guy is hurt and you think you were there. But you also aren't the only werewolf in town. Maybe this isn't as cut and dry as you think."
He frowned, his brow wrinkled. "You think Derek did this?"
She shook her head. "I'm not saying that."
He groaned. "Of course you aren't…"
Wait, what? "What's that supposed to mean?"
Scott scowled. "That you keep defending Derek and I don't know why."
"I'm not defending him. I'm trying to piece all of this together and I don't think we have all the facts yet." She rubbed her thumb against his arm. "Listen, we can figure this out."
"How? Either I did this and someone got hurt or I didn't and Derek is terrorizing the town. But we have no way to prove it because what do you want to bet that any evidence will come back as another wolf!?" He tipped his head back and groaned. "What am I supposed to do?"
"Hey!" She caught his chin and pulled it down so he would meet her eyes. "Freaking out isn't going to solve anything. Maybe it was you or Derek or someone else completely, but we need to find out."
Taking a deep breath, he nodded slowly. "How though?"
"The only other werewolf we know is Derek. And he's made no secret that he wants to keep you from hurting people, so…"
He grimaced. "So, I have to talk to him."
She shrugged. "If you want answers, yes."
His shoulders slumped. "What if I don't like what he has to say?"
"Scott… I'm not saying you didn't do this. But, it's over now. The only thing we can do is make sure it doesn't happen again."
He stared at her searchingly, before nodding. "Okay."
"Okay." She let her hand fall from his chin then, hanging limp at her side. "You were pretty freaked out this morning."
"When I saw the bus outside, I really thought I did it. I thought…" He swallowed tightly. "You didn't fight me. You were so sure I wouldn't hurt you."
"Aren't dreams usually manifestations of what's happening in your life? If you're afraid you're going to hurt me or Allison, your mind puts something together. Maybe you just saw it happen and this was your head's way of dealing with it."
Scott frowned, unconvinced. "By making me claw your throat out? What kind of coping mechanism is that?"
She snorted. "A shitty one."
He half-smiled, but it fell quickly. "Malia… When I thought I hurt you, I—"
"Miss Tate?" Her math teacher's voice cut across the hall. "If your bladder is sufficiently relieved…"
Malia turned her gaze upward and sighed. "I have to go." Looking back at Scott, she half-smiled. "We'll talk later, okay?"
He nodded, his brow furrowed. "Yeah. Uh, sure."
"Mister McCall," Matthews said, "you might want to find your way back to your classroom… Immediately."
"Right. Sorry." Scott turned on his heel and hurried away.
Malia watched him go for a beat and then sauntered back into class.
"No more emergencies?" Matthews drawled.
On her way back to her seat, she muttered, "Crisis temporarily averted."
…
Malia lingered at her locker, putting her books away and digging out a snack to tide her over until lunch. It was there that Allison found her, knocking their shoulders together with a cheerful, "Hey!"
Malia nodded in greeting and held out a baggie. Years ago, back when she and the boys were still coming into their friendship, she remembered Stiles saying something to the effect of Malia sharing food meant she liked you. A pretty accurate statement, she thought. Malia loved food; she always made sure to pack herself extra snacks for the school day. So, if she shared her food it was either a peace offering or an extension of friendship. Allison was the first person since the boys that she'd offered food to.
"Is this jerky?" Allison's brow knit and a curious smile tilted her mouth. She dug out a piece and tore off a bite with her teeth. "Mmm. It's good. Where'd you get it?"
"I made it. It's deer meat."
"Seriously?" Allison's eyes widened. "I'm impressed."
Malia shrugged and closed her locker. "What would be impressive is if I hunted the deer down myself, but I didn't. Dad bagged it. I just made it into something halfway edible."
"Still. I can barely make mac n' cheese."
Malia's mouth ticked up. "Maybe I'll teach you sometime."
"Deal." Allison wiggled her eyebrows then. "Anyway, nice try, but you're not going to distract me…"
"Distract you from what?" Scott wondered as he and Stiles came to a stop in front of the girls.
Before Malia could cut her off, Allison said, "Malia was going to point Cole out to me."
As if to torture her just a little more, Malia could actually see Cole walking down the hall in their direction. Surrounded by a few friends, he seemed oblivious to the group of four currently discussing his existence and whereabouts. Carefully avoiding looking at Scott or Stiles, Malia let out a quiet sigh. She glanced at Allison and then nodded her chin forward with emphasis.
Catching on, Allison turned her head, scanning around. "Which one?"
"Blue button up."
"Ooh…" Allison grinned. "Okay. He's cute."
He was cute. More so outside of the house party environment. His hair was swept to one side from running his fingers through it, the ends falling across his eyes and brushing his cheek.
"Wait. Cole James?" Stiles whirled around to stare at Malia, wide-eyed. "You hooked up with the captain of the basketball team?"
"Hooked— what?" Scott's brows hiked as he looked from Stiles to Malia to Cole and back. "When? H-How?"
"I'm pretty sure you know how." Stiles rolled his eyes before focusing on Malia. "You just said he was on the basketball team."
Malia shrugged. "He is."
"He's the freaking captain." Stiles threw a hand up aggressively. "Plus, he's a senior!"
"So?"
"Isn't that a little…" His face scrunched up. "I don't know, weird? I mean, you're only sixteen."
"He's only seventeen." She shrugged and leaned back against her locker. "What's the big deal?"
"It's a pretty big deal! A very big deal!" Stiles tapped his foot and then knocked his hand against Scott's chest. "Scott, tell her how big a deal this is."
Scott's mouth fell open and he stared at Malia. "I don't… I'm still… I mean, when?"
"At the party." Allison's brow furrowed innocently as she turned a confused look on Malia. "You didn't tell them?"
"Danny's party? After the game?" Scott shook his head slowly, his eyes squinted. "I didn't even know you liked anyone."
Malia shrugged. "We didn't know each other before then."
His eyes widened and his voice rose a notch, "You made out with a guy you just met?"
Malia's sharp gaze focused on him. "Is that judgement I'm hearing?"
"What? No. I just… I meant…" He sighed. "I didn't think you'd—"
"What? Didn't think I'd what, Scott?" Malia pushed off the locker, her chest tight and warm, like a tightly coiled spring had let loose. "Like I can't find somebody for myself? Stiles is pining over Lydia, you have Allison, don't I deserve someone?"
"I— Yeah. Of course. I just…" He fumbled, his shoulders hiked up to his ears. "I- I don't know!"
"Okay… I think maybe everyone needs to take a breath and calm down." Allison put her hand on Malia's shoulder and pulled her along. "We'll see you guys later, at lunch."
Malia let herself be towed away, glaring back at the boys over her shoulder, her mouth folded in a frown. "Acting like an overprotective… Like I can't pick whoever I want to… I don't need permission…"
"I know." Allison patted her shoulder and kept them moving. "They were just surprised. That's all."
"Is that better?" Malia whirled back to face her. "I can date. Just because I don't doesn't mean I can't."
"Of course you can." Allison grinned encouragingly. "I said he was cute, didn't I?"
Relaxing a little, Malia let her shoulders loosen up. "He is cute."
"Really cute." She hooked her arm through Malia's and knocked their shoulders together. "Come on, they're boys. They don't get it. That's the upside to having girl friends."
A small smile pulled at her mouth. "That and jerky."
Laughing, Allison reached for the bag still clutched tight in Malia's hand and pulled a piece out. With a wink, she said, "That, too."
…
Malia scowled down at her phone where it was tucked under her notebook, thumbing through her text messages. After break, she'd avoided the boys, and they weren't exactly quiet about it. She read Stiles' messages first; a mess of surprised emoticons, his texts frantic and worried.
— 'all i'm saying is that a senior dating a sophomore is a little weird.'
—'not that you're dating'
—'you're not dating, right?'
—'you said it was like a one off. just a party hook up.'
—right?'
—'i just want you to be careful. older dudes have expectations!'
—'omg!'
—'i sound like scott's mom when she gave us the worst sex talk in the history of sex talks…'
Rolling her eyes, she exited out of that conversation and let her thumb hover over Scott's name. She took a quick glance around to make sure nobody was paying attention. The teacher was droning on, his back to them as he wrote on the board, and everybody else looked halfway asleep. Shaking her head, she opened his messages and stared down at the screen, her teeth clenched.
—'i'm really sorry.'
—'will you please talk to me?'
—i was just surprised'
She stared at the writing until her eyes burned. Scrubbing the heel of her palm against one, she bit her lip.
A bubble popped at the bottom to tell her he was writing, and then—
—'i just want you to be happy'
Closing her eyes for a moment, she took a deep breath and then turned her phone over, putting it away. When she opened them, she refocused. Grabbing up her pencil, she started taking notes, putting aside everything else.
…
"I hate eating inside." Malia glowered as she followed Allison through the cafeteria.
Allison rolled her eyes. "It's pouring out."
"A little rain never killed anyone."
Allison looked over at her knowingly, an eyebrow raised. "I'm pretty sure it has…"
"Well, yeah, the elderly, but we're young. We can fight off a little pneumonia."
Laughing, Allison shook her head. "Will you just sit with us for one day? If it's not raining tomorrow, I'll gladly join you outside."
"Fine." Malia pursed her lips. "But I'm not making a habit of it."
Malia joined Allison as she made her way through the line to get her lunch together, her own packed away in her bag. She wasn't about to spend extra money on something she didn't need, especially not when she caught sight of the creamed corn. "Are you sure this is edible?"
The woman serving the food glared at her, but Malia shrugged. "It was a valid question."
Allison bit her lip to hide her amusement and then shuffled down the line. "I forgot to pack something this morning. This is kind of the only option."
"When you're in the hospital due to food poisoning, I'll drop by with a balloon that says, 'I told you so.'"
Allison grinned. "I'll cherish it."
"You better."
After paying, they made their way toward a table, Lydia's bright red hair easy to spot. The fact that she was sitting next to Scott, however, was worth a double take. The closer they got, the more the table filled out with people Malia knew by reputation only. She could safely say she'd never carried a conversation with most of them. While Allison moved to take a seat on Scott's other side, Malia plopped down next to Danny, sitting across from Lydia.
He grinned at her. "Hey. How was your Sunday hangover?"
"Not fun." Malia dug a sandwich, an apple, and her water bottle out of her bag. "How was yours?"
"Awful." He shook his head. "I almost skipped my run, I wanted to curl up in a ball and sleep for a week."
"Almost? You went for a run anyway?"
He grinned. "Course I did. I might've thrown up in a few bushes on the way, but I made it."
"Not your mom's prized roses, I'm guessing."
He chuckled under his breath. "Never."
"Get up."
Malia looked up to see Jackson hovering next to Taylor, who was sitting at the head of the table.
Taylor sighed. "How come you never ask Danny to get up?"
Rolling an apple between his hands, Danny said, "Because I don't stare at his girlfriend's coin slot."
Malia looked from Danny to a newly standing Taylor, her lip curled. "Ew."
Jackson sat down, leaning back in his seat and hooking his ankle over his opposite knee.
"So, I hear they're saying it's some kind of animal attack." Danny's brow furrowed. "Probably a cougar."
"I heard mountain lion," Jackson said.
"A cougar is a mountain lion," Lydia corrected absently.
Jackson stared at her, a brow raised.
Seeming to realize her slip-up, Lydia quickly added, "Isn't it?"
"Who cares? The guy's probably some homeless tweaker who's gonna die anyway."
Malia rolled her eyes. "Careful, Jackson, your bleeding heart is spilling all over the table."
He smirked at her, his eyes narrowed sharply. "You win one game of beer pong and you get a big head, Tate." He leaned forward. "I still want a re-match."
"Yeah, I'll add that to my social calendar under 'why would I purposely spend more time with you again?'"
Danny snorted. "All right, be nice." He knocked his arm against Malia's. "Anyway, we won that game fair and square."
Jackson eyed her curiously. "I still don't know how someone as small as you can put so much beer away."
"Sheer will."
"Hey, I think I just found out the guy was," Stiles said, drawing everyone's attention. He held his phone out to play a video. It was a news report showing the parking lot, a brief shot of Sheriff Stilinski, and the mangled bus in the background.
"The Sheriff's department won't speculate on details of the incident but confirmed the victim, Garrison Meyers, did survive the attack." A picture of the victim hovered on the screen before panning to the back of the bus, covered in blood spatter. "Meyers was taken to a local hospital where he remains in critical condition…"
Scott startled in his seat and reached for Stiles' phone, thumbing it back to the victim's photo. "I know this guy."
Allison leaned toward him. "You do?"
"Yeah, when I used to take the bus." He looked from Stiles to Malia. "He was the driver."
Sitting forward, Malia looked across Danny to Stiles, her mouth pursed.
He gave her a quick, short nod.
"Can we talk about something slightly more fun, please?" Lydia wondered, waving a fork around. "Like, oh! Where are we going tomorrow night?" She turned her attention to Allison, who stared back, confused. "You said you and Scott were hanging out tomorrow night, right?"
"Um." Allison's gaze bounced to Scott and then returned to Lydia. "We were thinking of what we were gonna do…"
Scott's brow furrowed.
"Well, I am not sitting at home again watching lacrosse videos." Lydia flicked her wrist and looked to Jackson. "So, if the four of us are hanging out, we are doing something fun."
"H-Hanging out?" Scott turned to Allison, who stared at him, wide-eyed. "Like, the four of us?"
Allison capped her water bottle and shrugged awkwardly. "Yeah, sure, that could be fun… I guess."
"You know what else sounds fun?" Jackson sent them all a flat look. "Stabbing myself in the face with this fork."
Malia grinned. "Great! I'll help."
He smiled back, fake and sharp.
"How about bowling?" Lydia suggested, stealing his fork from him. "You love to bowl."
He stared at her, unconvinced. "Yeah, with actual competition."
For her part, Malia couldn't help but be a little amused. Compared to the chaos of the bus victim and the last couple weeks of werewolf junk, having Jackson just be, well, an ass, was kind of refreshing. She should've known better.
"Malia!"
Going completely still like a deer caught in headlights was not a great survival instinct, but that was exactly what she did. At least until she felt someone hovering right next to her and Danny bumped her shoulder to get her to look up. Malia raised her eyes to meet Cole's as he stood beside her, a slow grin spreading across his mouth.
"Uh, hey…" Clearing her throat, she leaned back a little, her stomach tying itself in knots.
"Hey." He licked his lips and pushed the sleeve of his shirt up his arm. "Uh, I was gonna text you, but that seemed lame, so… Look, I was wondering what you were doing tomorrow night. I thought we could hang out."
"Oh. Um… I…" Her mind drew a complete blank and, before Malia could think it through, she was abruptly looking in Allison's direction. That was what girl friends were for, right? Because right now, she was freaking out a little. And she had no idea if it was a positive or negative freak out. All she knew was that Cole was in front of her, asking her to 'hang out,' and she wasn't sure what to say. Yes? No? Was 'I don't know' on the table?
"Yes!" Allison said, a little louder than she probably meant to. "Uh, Malia would love to. In fact, we're all going bowling tomorrow night." Allison motioned to Scott and then to Lydia and Jackson. "It can be like a double date only with, you know, three couples instead of two…" Her brow furrowed. "Whatever that's called."
"A group?" Stiles suggested, brows hiked.
"Yeah." She smiled at him and then looked back to Cole. "Do you bowl?"
Cole grinned. "I do. I'm pretty good."
"See!" Lydia turned a knowing look on Jackson. "You wanted competition, now you have it."
Jackson glanced from her to Cole and then snorted. "You're on, James."
"Great." He grinned back at Malia. "Tomorrow then?"
"Tomorrow," she repeated numbly.
He nodded. "Text me later with the details? I can pick you up."
"Sure. Yeah, I will."
With that, he flicked his fingers in a wave and walked away.
Malia stared after him a moment before turning back to the table.
Lydia was smirking at her. "Captain of the basketball team… Not bad, Tate."
Rolling her eyes, Malia turned her attention to Allison, who was beaming at her supportively. But, it was Scott that caught her eye— his brow furrowed as he stared at the table. Or maybe it was the phone in front of him, the screen off, but the memory of the bus driver obviously still fresh. Here she was setting up a date (was it really a date if there were six people there?) while he was freaking out over possibly mauling his old bus driver.
Priorities, she thought. Remembering she was pissed at him, however, she found herself conflicted.
"What did I tell you?" Danny grinned, knocking his elbow against hers. "Best night of his life."
Before Malia could reply, a loud crunching noise could be heard. When she looked, Scott was holding the corner of his lunch tray in his hand, having snapped it completely off.
Stiles laughed awkwardly. "Cheap plastic."
Malia nodded. "It was probably that radioactive creamed corn. Ate right through it."
Snickers filled the table and the moment was officially ignored. Jackson turned the subject to lacrosse, clearly annoyed that he hadn't been the focus of attention for thirty whole seconds. But Malia kept her gaze on Scott. His head was ducked and his shoulders were tight, but he didn't appear to be shifting. Despite her earlier irritation, she couldn't help but feel for him. His supposed victim may actually be someone he knew, which had to be even more nerve-wracking. She stuck by her advice, though. If anyone could help him, it was Derek. She and Stiles may want to, but their tools were limited. She just hoped Derek stowed the lurky double-speak and actually helped.
…
After school, Malia caught a ride with Stiles.
"Are you talking to me yet? Because I feel like I had some valid concerns that should put me somewhere outside of the doghouse…"
Malia looked up from her book. "I got in your jeep, didn't I?"
"Well, yeah, but I thought maybe Allison couldn't give you a ride, so you took what you could get." Stiles shifted around in his seat. "I'll admit, I overreacted… a little. I just wasn't expecting the first guy for you to kind of, sort of, date to be… you know, captain of the basketball team… Or a senior… Or Cole freaking James."
"Okay, seriously. I barely knew who he was when we met at the party. So, why the emphasis on his name? Do you have a crush on him?"
"What? No. I just… I don't know. It's weird. You being all… googly over someone."
"I'm not 'googly' over anyone." She put her book away in her bag and shifted to see him better. "Look, he's nice and he's hot and we had a good time. This is not a romance for the ages. I'm honestly surprised he found me at lunch. I really thought it'd just be a one-off." She shrugged. "And now I'm going on a group date with a couple I can't stand and a couple I'm trying really hard to be okay with… I knew I shouldn't eat inside."
Stiles looked from her to the road and back. "Are you okay with that? I mean, spending hours with Scott and Allison…?"
"Yes… No…" She sighed. "I don't know." Slumping down in her seat, she glared out the window. "It hurt. I know it's stupid and I hate that I felt anything at all. But, seeing him kiss Allison just… hurt."
"Is that why you hooked up with Cole?"
"It wasn't the only reason… But it was part of it." She frowned. "Does that make me a shitty person?"
Stiles shook his head. "You can't help how you feel."
"I want to. If I could, I'd pull it right out, shove it in a box, and bury it somewhere."
"I don't think that's how these things work." He drummed his hands against the steering wheel. "Look, this Scott and Allison thing… I don't know how long it'll last. You ask me, he's holding onto her because she's the only normal thing he's got right now. But, that doesn't matter. Not really." He looked back at her. "If you like Cole, if he makes you happy, then go for it. And if it's just a distraction to help you cope, that's fine, too. As long as he knows that's what it is, nobody's really getting hurt."
Malia nodded. "Yeah. You're right."
"Okay." He glanced at her. "This means I'm forgiven, right?"
Sighing, she looked over at him, amused. "Sure. Right after you buy me dinner."
Stiles grinned. "Done."
…
After a shift at the clinic, where Sheriff Stilinski had asked Deaton to weigh in on the recent bus attack and the possibility of it being a wolf that may have attacked the driver, Deaton's words were stuck on repeat in Scott's head—
'A wolf would have gone for the throat or the spinal cord with its teeth… I suppose it could chase down its prey, hobbling it by tearing at the ankles. And then the throat.'
In his dream, Scott had dragged Malia by her ankles and shredded her throat. He could still vividly remember the warm spray of her blood across his face. Even if it wasn't her, he could have done it to someone else. An innocent man who had crossed paths with someone— something— he had no way of fighting off. That was part of the reason Scott went to the hospital. The other part was in the hopes that his mother might let him have the car for his 'hang out' tomorrow night. Seeing Mister Meyers freak out at the sight of him wasn't exactly encouraging. In fact, it kind of solidified all of Scott's fears that he had, in fact, been the one to attack Meyers.
With that in mind, he headed toward the Hale house. He wasn't kidding that morning when he told Stiles that Derek was still an option and Malia had only hammered that point home. The one thing Derek consistently mentioned to her was that he knew how to stay in control and Scott didn't. As if that wasn't all too obvious at this point.
Scott was frustrated, but more than that, he was scared. If the bus driver was just an innocent bystander, then what did that say for the people closest to Scott? How long until they were being wheeled away on a gurney because of something he did?
He rode his bike down the dirt road leading to the house, a light sprinkling of rain that warned of a coming storm. He pulled off the path and dragged his bike behind a tree when he heard the familiar crackle of a police radio and realized that someone else was visiting the Hale house, too. He approached slowly and quietly, watching through the dense trees as a deputy eventually spooked at his dog's chaotic barking, a warning that someone or something was lurking inside the imposing house. Giving in, the deputy hurried back to his car and took off, wheels skidding a little in the damp earth. Scott took the opportunity to step out from the trees, staring up at the house, wondering where, exactly, Derek might be hiding. He could hear his heartbeat, but couldn't pin point his location.
Scott's gaze wandered from one end of the dilapidated house to the other; broken windows, rotting wood, missing slats, and a crumbling porch stared back at him eerily. It didn't matter what time of day it was, this place always seemed haunted by the fire that had massacred it.
Balling his hands into fists, he raised his chin and said, "I know you can hear me… I need your help."
Derek didn't reply, but Scott could hear the creak of wood as he began to move. In answer, Scott crossed the leaf-strewn 'yard' and climbed the porch stairs to stand in front of the door.
When it opened, a brooding Derek stared back at him, just as intimidating as ever. He stepped outside to meet him, closed the door at his back, and tucked his hands in the pockets of his black leather jacket.
"Okay. I- I know I was part of you getting arrested and that we basically announced you being here to the hunters." Scott shook his head, shrugging slightly. "I also don't know what happened to your sister. But, I think I did something last night. I had a dream about—" He paused. "—someone. But someone else got hurt. And it turns out that part of the dream might have actually happened."
Derek stared at him. "You think you attacked the driver?"
Suspicious, Scott demanded, "Did you see what I did last night?"
"No."
It was a simple answer with no elaboration, but, for some reason, Scott kind of believed him. Sighing, he wondered, "Can you at least tell me the truth…? Am I gonna hurt someone?"
"Yes."
"Could I kill someone?"
He arched an eyebrow. "Yes."
"Am I gonna kill someone?"
"Probably."
Scott's heart squeezed and his stomach bottomed out. His eyes darted and a dizzying sensation made him feel weaker than he'd felt in a long time. Shoulders slumped, he crossed the porch and leaned against a pillar, completely defeated.
"Look, I can show you how to remember. I can show you how to control the shift, even on a full moon. But, it's not gonna come for free."
Scott turned a glare on Derek. "I didn't ask for any of this. I never wanted to be this!"
"But you are." Derek stared at him firmly. "Do you want my help or don't you?"
Scott clenched his teeth, a muscle ticking in his cheek. "What do you want?"
"You'll find out." Derek nodded. "But for now, I'm gonna give you what you want. Go back to the bus. Go inside. See it, feel it. Let your senses— your sight, smell, touch— let them remember for you."
Scott shook his head. "That's it? Just— just go back?"
"Do you want to know what happened?"
He sighed. "I just want to know if I hurt him."
"No, you don't." Derek's eyes narrowed. "You want to know if you'll hurt her."
Scott's brows hiked. "I know you don't know me, but I just want to do the right thing here!"
Derek took a deep breath and let it out on a sigh. "Malia thinks that you're incapable of hurting people. That whatever goodness you have in you can overcome your baser instincts. But you and I both know that when you shift, you can't help yourself. You can't stop yourself. Maybe this time it was a bus driver and maybe next time it'll be her." He turned on his heel and walked to the door. "You have to figure out how hard you're going to work at making sure it's no one."
…
"Can I ask you something kind of personal?"
Malia looked up from the notebook in her lap to where Allison was currently going through her closet. "You're standing in my bedroom in your underwear, rifling through my clothes, so, sure, go for it." Admittedly, she just wasn't wearing a top after trying on a few of Malia's shirts, but the fact remained.
"I'm not rifling… I'm admiring." Allison pulled out a dress Malia had only worn once before and held it up against herself, checking out the length in the mirror. "And you said you were open to sharing clothes."
"That's because I love leather jackets and you own six."
Allison grinned at her through the mirror. "And I've never seen you wear a dress, but you have a whole section of them."
Putting her notebook aside, Malia joined her at the closet. "Some of them are my mom's… Dad went through a phase where he thought getting rid of all her things would make him feel better. I convinced him I'd grow into her clothes and it would save money in the long run. But, he still said I should only pick the ones I really thought I'd wear. My mom was a dress person…" She hooked her finger in the skirt of a floral sundress and bit her lip. "She loved make-up and clothes and jewelry… A girly girl, I guess."
"It's pretty." Allison stared at the dress a long moment. "You must miss her."
"I do. Yeah." She let the fabric go and turned to Allison, pointing at the dress she was holding up against herself. "This isn't one of hers. I got this for a dance last year. Scott, Stiles, and I went together. I think I lost a bet or something…" She walked to a pin board hanging on her wall, plucked a picture out from under a criss-crossing ribbon, and brought it over.
Malia stood in the middle, her arms hooked around the boys' shoulders. Stiles' tie was pushed up onto his head, his shirt was unbuttoned, and he was mimicking a disco arm reach. He looked absolutely goofy. Scott, on the other hand, was wearing a suit a little too big for him, or the pants at least, the jacket was missing. It was his dad's and pretty much the only suit he owned, recycling it whenever something formal cropped up. His hair was wet and messy and he was smiling so big that she could almost count every last one of his teeth. His arm was hooked around her waist, fingers folded atop her hip. It was funny to think that it was just a year ago, but they all looked so young.
"This was last year?" Allison smiled down at the picture. "Why is Scott's hair wet?"
"It was raining after the dance. His mom picked us up but she could only park so close to the door. He held his jacket over my head so I wouldn't get soaked. You can't see it in the picture, but he was pretty much drenched." She smiled softly. "He caught a cold and was out of school for a week."
Allison hummed. "Do you guys go to all the dances together?"
"When they can get me to go, sure. I'm not really big on dances. I like dancing. But dances are so…" She scrunched up her nose, "public."
"I get that." Allison shrugged. "Half the fun is just being with people you like."
"Exactly. Which I can do far, far away from the school gym, where they think streamers make it smell less like moldy socks."
Snorting, Allison shook her head. She hung the dress back up in the closet before reaching for another one. "You said your dad got rid of a lot of your mom's stuff. What about your sister's?"
"I kept one of Kylie's teddy bears. And this." She hooked her thumb in the necklace she was wearing and held it up, a hollow heart pendant dangling from it. "I gave it to her for her birthday. She wore it everywhere." Her brow furrowed. "Sheriff Stilinski gave it to me after… Uh, after the accident."
Allison turned to her, a gentle smile upturning one side of her mouth. "It's beautiful."
"Yeah. Thanks." Clearing her throat, Malia reached past her and grabbed a shirt. "Anyway, this'll look good on you."
Allison took it and then held it up against herself in the mirror. "Why don't you ever wear it?"
Malia shrugged and made her way to her bed, taking a seat on the end. "I don't know. Nowhere to wear it to."
"What about tomorrow night?" Allison smirked. "I bet Cole would like it."
Rolling her eyes, Malia leaned back, resting her hands on the bed behind her to prop herself up. "You know tomorrow's going to be weird, right? Jackson hates Scott. He's not exactly fond of me, either. And I make it a point to let Jackson know I don't like him. Putting us all together in a competitive game of bowling seems like a bad idea."
"I know." Allison groaned, her head falling back. "But, what was I supposed to do? Just tell Lydia we didn't want to hang out with her? That would've been so awkward."
"I don't know, I've been successfully not hanging out with Lydia for sixteen years and then you came along and mixed things up."
With a laugh, Allison rolled her eyes. "It'll be fun. We'll make it fun." She hung the shirt up and pulled her own back on before joining Malia on the bed. "Are you at least kind of excited about Cole?"
Malia shrugged, turning around to see her better. "I don't know. I'm a little worried beer and good music made him more interesting than he actually is."
Allison's eyes widened. "Maybe don't lead with that when you meet up."
She snorted. "I'll try my best."
Shuffling up the bed, Allison rested her back against the headboard. "It's kind of nice hanging out at your place. At least we don't have my dad breathing down our necks."
Folding her legs under her, Malia cocked her head curiously. "He doesn't mind you coming out here?"
"As long as I'm back before 9:30, it's fine. I think he actually likes having the early curfew, because it means I can't stay out late."
"Yeah, you know how rowdy those Mondays get."
Allison laughed, her dimples flashing. "We didn't get much homework done, did we?"
"Nope. But I like to live in denial when homework's on the table." She stared at Allison a beat before saying, "What did you want to ask me earlier? You said it was personal."
"Oh. Right. I just…" Allison's face flushed a pale pink and she fiddled with her fingers. "Well, I was wondering about the party. You said you and Cole hooked up and I guess I wondered if that was your… first time."
"Kissing someone?"
"Or anything else." Allison laughed awkwardly and shook her head. "You don't have to answer. It's dumb. I was just—"
"It's okay." Malia half-smiled. "It was the first time I made out with someone, yeah. I mean, I've kissed people before, but it wasn't serious. My dad and I used to go on these long cross-country trips in the summer. We had this awful Winnebago; it was just old and rusty and smelled. But, I don't know. It was fun." She shrugged. "Anyway, we were at this camp site and I was thirteen and there was this boy that was like… three RV's over. He was cute and he made me laugh and there was one night where we spent hours just talking and eating our weight in s'mores and… next thing I know, we're kissing."
"Awww…" Allison grinned. "So, what happened?"
"It was the summer. And we only stayed in one place for so long. Dad and I packed up and moved on a couple days later. He gave me his number, but… I don't know. It kind of felt like it was supposed to stay there in the park. Just a special moment."
"That's cute."
"Yeah, well." Malia eyed her curiously. "What about you? Was there anybody before Scott?"
"I mean… Yeah, a few people. I had my first kiss when I was twelve. We were neighbors and we spent every day together, you know? Just attached at the hip. But, it was kind of like you and the RV park— wherever we went, we always knew we were on a time limit. Eventually, my dad would say it was time to move again. In a weird way, it almost felt more special; like every day was important. We would put tokens of everything we did— movie stubs, arcade tokens, carnival bracelets— in this shoe box that we decorated with cut-out hearts and stickers… I still have it." Allison looked up then, her brows arched almost defensively. "Her name was Sera. I don't know if she was my first love, but… She was something."
Malia stared at her a beat. "So, you like girls."
"Yeah."
"And boys."
She laughed under her breath. "Yes."
Malia nodded. "Okay."
Allison's eyes narrowed, but a slow smile upturned her mouth. "I don't know why I was expecting a bigger reaction, but I was."
"Beacon Hills is a small town, but you're not the first bi person I've met." She shrugged. "It doesn't change anything."
Letting out a heavy breath, Allison grinned. "No, of course not. I just… I don't know. I guess I expect certain reactions. Especially because I'm dating Scott. Sometimes people think that whoever you're with in the moment changes what you are or what you identify as, but…"
"It doesn't." Malia grinned. "You want a hug now? Or like, a firm handshake or something?"
Allison laughed. "You're such a dork." She held her arms out. "I'll take that hug, though."
Rolling her eyes, Malia climbed up the bed and hugged her. "Thanks for trusting me."
Allison leaned back to look up at her. "I know you and Lydia are still on rocky ground, but I like to think our friendship is headed in the right direction."
Malia nodded. "We are."
"Good. Then you'll let me help you pick an outfit for tomorrow." Rolling off the bed, Allison bee-lined for the closet. "Starting with that shirt."
Sighing, Malia hopped off the bed to join her. "Fine. Do your worst."
Allison smirked.
…
It was late. Malia had slogged through her homework and was getting some reading done before bed when she heard a creaking noise on the porch. It could have been the wind. Or even just the porch itself; after all, it wasn't exactly new. But, given the complicated life she'd been living, she expected the worst. Growing tense, she closed her book and turned her head, listening a little harder for any sign that someone, or something, was on the porch. She knew it wasn't her dad; he'd come home and stumbled off to his room hours ago. Which meant the options for who might be lurking around her house this late at night were limited.
A small tapping noise at the window drew her ear and she shuffled to the side of her bed, leaning over to check. Seeing Scott, she rolled her eyes. Crossing the room, she pulled the window up and glared at him. "You could've texted."
"You haven't answered any of my texts since break…" He frowned. "Can we talk? Please? I know you're mad at me, but—"
"Yeah, I am." She crossed her arms. "For totally valid reasons."
"I know." His shoulders slumped. "I screwed up. And I'm really sorry."
Malia clenched her teeth and looked away. She wasn't entirely sure if her anger was justified. His reaction to Cole bugged her, absolutely. But it was more than that. She was mad at herself, too. For getting so attached. For hoping. For wanting him to feel something he just couldn't feel for her. For weighing him down with an expectation that he wasn't even aware he was carrying. It was hard and frustrating to know that he was completely unaware of how much bigger this whole thing was to her. That it didn't start at break, when he was slightly insensitive about her hooking up with someone. Instead, it started a long time ago. Longer than she liked to admit. Longer than she was ready to acknowledge… And that wasn't his fault.
"Will you just get in here before you wake my dad up?" She stepped back from the window and waited for him to climb through before she shuffled past him to close the window. "We could've talked tomorrow, you know? In the light of day. When it at least seems less dangerous for you to be running around town."
"I'm a werewolf with super strength," he pointed out.
Sighing, she turned around to face him. "Well? Speak."
"I know it's not an excuse, but…" Scott grimaced. "Saturday was… I don't know. It felt like everything was happening at once. We dug up a body, got Derek arrested, I attacked you in the woods, and then the game... I was overwhelmed and shifting and I'm pretty sure the only thing that stopped me was hearing your voice. And then, when everything was over, you weren't there. You left with Danny and I just… I don't know. It feels like you're pulling away from us… from me. I can't even blame you after what happened in the woods—"
"Nothing happened. You didn't hurt me."
"But, I could've!" He stared at her searchingly. "When I had that dream… it was so real. I wish I could show you. Because you were right there, as close as we are right now. And I didn't stop. I didn't help you or save you or anything. Malia, I killed you."
"It was a dream!"
"It was a nightmare. And when I got to the school and I realized it might be real, you don't know how scary that was." He reached up, running a hand through his hair and tugging on it. "What I'm trying to say is that ever since Saturday, I feel like something's different. Or maybe I'm expecting something to change. So, when I found out about Cole, I was… I don't know what I was. Worried, maybe. It was just weird, hearing about it… about him… from Allison. Because you've always told me everything that was going on in your life and then, suddenly, I was the last person to find out."
"I didn't think you wanted to hear about one semi-drunk hook up at a party." She shrugged. "You have enough on your plate."
"But that's just it." His brows hiked. "I don't want this werewolf stuff overshadowing everything else. It's important, I get that. But so are you. And if… If you really like Cole—"
"I barely know him." She frowned. "He's nice and handsome and… I don't know. It was a weird day and he made me forget about it. It was just nice to be… wanted."
Scott swallowed tightly, his gaze falling to her shoulder. "I get that."
"I would've told you… eventually."
"But you told Stiles." His eyes rose, searching hers. "Did I do something that you can't… that you feel like you can't share those things with me?"
Malia took a deep breath. How did she tell him that hearing him tell her he was happy that she found someone would feel hollow? That part of the reason she was drawn to Cole was because it was easier to distract herself with him than it was to feel as lost as she did when she was around Scott and Allison? "It's like I said, you're dealing with a lot more than whoever I hook up with at a party…"
"If it matters to you, it matters to me. Whatever I have going on, I always want to know what's happening in your life, good and bad."
She smiled faintly. "I know."
"Besides, it looks like I'm gonna get a chance to know Cole better…" He attempted a smile. "Now that we're all hanging out."
"Yeah. Bowling." She snorted. "Which you suck at, in case you forgot."
Scott groaned. "I know." Taking a seat at the edge of her bed, he pressed his thumb to the palm of his other hand and tapped a foot against the floor. "I, uh, I talked to Derek… I told him I thought I hurt Mr. Meyers."
"Really?" Her brows hiked. "What'd he say?"
"He told me there was a way to remember what happened, and he was right. Stiles and I went back to the school, to the bus, and… I was there." He shook his head. "But I didn't hurt Mr. Meyers."
"Who did?"
He frowned. "It was Derek."
Malia took a seat beside him. "That doesn't make sense."
He shifted to face her better. "A wolf attacked Meyers and Derek's the only other wolf around."
"That you know of."
Scott frowned. "What do you mean?"
"We don't know how many werewolves are out there. Derek came from a whole family of wolves. He was born into it. How many other people are just like him?"
Sighing, Scott's shoulders slumped. "That's not exactly what I wanted to hear."
Malia raised an eyebrow. "I know you want to think all of this is Derek. I'm not saying he isn't shady— he is— but I really don't think this is on him. It just doesn't add up. Why show you how to remember what happened if it'll only push you away?"
"Stiles thinks it might be some kind of initiation. Like, we have to kill together."
Frowning, she shook her head. "I don't know. I don't think so. I mean, I get the logic behind it, but… I really think there's more to it. And hey, if there is another wolf that's going around hurting people, maybe that's the other issue Derek's dealing with. Some homicidal werewolf." She shrugged. "Did he say anything else?"
"Just that he could help me control the shift, but… I owe him a favor."
"What kind of favor?"
He blew out an irritated breath. "He wouldn't say."
"Typical." She rolled her eyes. "Well, at least you know it wasn't you that hurt the bus driver."
"Yeah." His gaze fell to the floor. "But I don't like that I couldn't remember. That I just take off in the middle of the night and do things that I have no control over."
Malia reached for him, her hand circling his wrist and squeezing. "We could always tie you down."
He snorted. "Yeah, just what I need. My mom waking me up one morning and asking me why I'm chained to my bed."
She laughed. "Maybe she'll think it's a sex thing and just not bring it up."
He groaned. "How is that better?"
"It's not, but it's funnier."
Smothering a smile, he bumped her shoulder.
Malia grinned. "If it makes you feel better, my dad tried to give me the sex talk the other day."
He grimaced. "Really?"
"Yeah. After I got home from the party, he was worried about where I was so late and… It was so awkward."
He stared at her a beat. "So, you and Cole… It's not serious?"
"I mean, it wasn't when it happened. It was just… fun." She shrugged. "I didn't even think we'd talk again. I had no idea he'd ask me out."
"Why wouldn't he?" Scott's brow furrowed. "He'd be stupid not to."
"Yeah." Malia's gaze skittered away, her heart squeezing in her chest. "Anyway, I guess we'll see what happens after this group date…"
Scott nodded. "I guess so."
There was a lull in the conversation, but Malia couldn't tell if it was heavy and awkward just on her part or if he was feeling it, too. There was just so much left unsaid— so many mixed feelings about what was happening that she couldn't put a voice to.
"Is that from the dance?" Scott reached for the loose picture on her bedside table. "I was so sick after that."
Malia smiled, staring at the photo fondly. "I showed it to Allison, earlier. She found the dress I wore to it."
He glanced at her, nodding. "It's a nice dress."
"Your mom helped me pick it." Two hours in the mall with Melissa, both trying on overpriced, poofy, glittery dresses; it was strangely fun. "Which I'm pretty sure was her plan, since the corsage you gave me matched perfectly."
"I asked her what color you were wearing ahead of time…" He shook his head. "I lost mine somewhere at the dance. It fell off the lapel."
"I still have mine."
"Really?"
"Yeah." She hopped off her bed and moved to her book shelf, taking one of her favorite novels out and walking back to him. At the very center, pressed between the pages, was a pale blue flower, its edges browned and the petals wrinkled. "See?"
He leaned over, smiling softly. "You didn't want to wear it."
She rolled her eyes. "I thought I'd break it or lose it. It was all soft and delicate, the exact opposite of me."
"I think you can be both."
"Both what?"
"Delicate and strong." He looked up at her. "I really am sorry that I hurt your feelings… I don't know Cole. I don't know what kind of person he is, but I know you. And you're careful about who you let in and who you let close." Scott stood, meeting her gaze, nothing but the book and a pressed flower between them. "All I want is for you to be happy… whatever that takes."
Malia closed the book and hugged it to her stomach. "I don't think happy's an every day thing. I think it happens in moments. And I have those. Lately, they've been a little more complicated, but they're still there…" She shook her head. "Scott, I'm not pushing you away. And I'm not trying to hide parts of my life from you." She reached out, her hand landing on his forearm. "You'll always have me. I'm always on your side."
"I know." He half-smiled. "I'm on yours, too."
She nodded, her throat tight and a ball of emotion making it feel two sizes too small.
He reached for her then, a hand on her hip, drawing her forward until their chests met. The edge of the book had to be digging into him too, but he didn't say anything. Instead, he hugged her, their cheeks pressed together. She could feel each of his fingers against the bare skin of her side, slotted between the top of her shorts and the end of her shirt. His touch seemed warmer by the second, an imprint left behind on her skin. Malia reached up tentatively, her hand skimming the length of his arm before she reached the top and let the ends of her fingers hinge on his shoulder.
"Promise me you'll always talk to me. No matter what's happening or who's in the way…" His breath skittered against her ear. "'Cause I always want to listen."
Malia closed her eyes and let out a slow, shaky breath. "I promise."
He lingered there, warm and familiar. His hand skimmed up her back to her shoulder and squeezed. "I promise, too."
When he pulled back, she felt a chill, the warmth of him sapped from her skin. And then he was kissing her cheek, a quick brush of his lips. She opened her eyes and watched him make his way to the window. She stood, feeling like she was floating in place.
"I'll see you tomorrow."
"Yeah." Her voice felt distant, separate from her. Mustering a smile, she tried to shake it off. "Don't expect me to go easy on you at bowling."
He snorted a laugh and ducked through her window. "I'd be offended if you did."
She met him at the window, ready to push it closed.
He stared back at her a beat. "Night."
"Night."
As he disappeared into the shadows, Malia pushed her window down and let out a heavy breath.
One of these days, she was going to stop letting her heart lead her down a path of self-destruction.
Today was not that day.
There was always tomorrow.
tbc
author's note: i hope the scalia in this chapter made up for a lack of it in the last update. scott's really going through a roller coaster here. he starts his day thinking he might've (fatally) harmed malia, then thinks he attacked a bus driver, then finds out malia made out with cole, then gets pushed into a group date he's not even kind of enthusiastic about, and while he gets some answers to his questions around the bus driver, he still has a lot to figure out.
i was originally planning to post this last night, but i've been tired. i had my first week at my new job and it took some readjusting. on the bright side, it's on the longer end, so hopefully that helps. :)
things to look forward to next chapter: stalia friendship, flirty!cole, ERICA, female friendship, danny asks the hard questions, derek opens up, an awkward bowling date, scalia goodness! ;)
thanks so much for reading, please try to leave a review!
- Lee | Fina