Lydia ended up having to spend the night in the hospital. Exhaustion hit her hard, and she was suffering from hypothermia and dehydration, but the damage wasn't nearly as extensive as it could have been. The bite in her side hadn't reopened, and continued to heal at a normal pace. She hadn't gotten frostbite. Even after she'd been wandering in the woods for as long as she had, she didn't have another scratch on her. She hadn't even nicked herself on a branch.

Everyone was ecstatic. Except me.

Of course, I was relieved that she hadn't been hurt. It was just…odd. Lydia had blacked out and run top speed from the hospital, no clothes, no shoes, no destination, and somehow hadn't sustained a single injury. No scraped knees or bruised elbows or cuts on the bottom of her feet. It was more than just odd; it was unnatural. Unfortunately, I knew from personal experience that there were plenty of unnatural explanations to be found in Beacon Hills.

It just made it even more important for me to stay close to Lydia. Natalie, my mother and I had spent the night in her hospital room, reluctant to part ways. Jeff had ducked out in favor of his fancy apartment, remembering that he had a very important business meeting to attend the next morning. He'd only stuck around maybe two hours after his daughter had been found. None of us were sorry to see him go.

Instead, we spent the night together, just girls, tucked away with food, comfy clothes, movies, and the occasional doctor to check up on us. We flipped through magazines, brushed out the knots in Lydia's hair, and took it in turns to nap so we could all get some sleep. We didn't need Mr. Martin. We were a family all our own.

The next morning, our mothers had insisted that we both skip school, and this time, I didn't argue. Lydia and I both spent most of the day sleeping; she was still catching up after her adventure in the woods, and I was still catching up after a month of worrying I might lose her. Sometimes we both tried to squeeze on the cot, but hospital beds aren't really built for sleepovers. I had to improvise by pushing a bunch of chairs together to make my own bed, not unlike Stiles had done in the waiting room. It was a quiet day, something we both sorely needed.

Our friends checked in from time to time. Scott had sent me several text messages, interwoven with emoticons and cute pictures, letting me know he was happy that Lydia was okay. He also informed me that she hadn't been the one ravaging corpses around town. He'd tracked the scent down to a stranger, an omega wolf from out of town who'd come to Beacon Hills looking for an Alpha. I didn't love the idea of stragglers flocking to Derek for power, especially when they left so much destruction in their wake, but Scott assured me the omega wasn't going to be an issue again. The Argents had "taken care of it." I'd asked what that meant, but he assured me that I didn't want to know. He asked me to keep my head down and take care of Lydia; that was one instruction I didn't mind following.

Allison had stopped by after school to visit in person. She brought cookies and nail polish, and we spent the afternoon like normal teenagers, giving each other manicures and swapping petty gossip. The conversation was deliberately light, side-stepping any problematic subjects. That meant we weren't talking about formal. In retrospect, that's probably why it took so long for the subject to come up. But inevitably, fate intervened.

About an hour after Allison arrived, so did a delivery person from the florist. There was an oversized arrangement of purple flowers, the card specifying that they were for both Lydia and me. There wasn't any other information, but it wasn't exactly a mystery who'd sent them.

Lydia was livid.

"Are you kidding me, Sadie?! Why didn't you say something?!"

She hurled a pillow at me, which I barely dodged with a squawk. "I—sorry! You didn't ask!"

"Don't you blame this on me! I have been in a coma! I have missed a month of living, and spent two days walking in the woods! It is your responsibility to inform me of updates in your love life!"

"It's been a little hectic, Lyd—"

"I do not care! This should have been the first thing you said as soon as I opened my eyes! Start talking! Now!"

"Seriously," I sighed, "you didn't miss much…"

"Ehhh…" Allison giggled, like a traitor. "Debatable."

Lydia rounded on her, brandishing her tiny nail polish brush like a broadsword. "Don't get cute with me, Allison. Start with formal. What the hell happened?"

And so we'd started from the beginning. The real story would have been much, much longer, but since we were telling Lydia the same edited version I'd given my mom, it didn't take her long to catch up. I'd been beside myself when Lydia was hospitalized. Stiles had taken me out of the hospital to clear my head. He'd consoled me, I'd kissed him—at this point Lydia had actually screamed and thrown another pillow at me—but we'd decided to put everything on pause while I was emotionally compromised.

Since then, I hadn't spoken to Stiles all that much. He'd spent a lot of time in the waiting room while I spent a lot of time avoiding him. He'd lectured me about coming back to school too early. He'd driven me around town looking for Lydia until we'd found her. Of course, then Lydia had made a dry comment about letting Stiles skip a few bases by letting him see me in my bra, at which point Allison had screamed, and I'd been dragged into a more detailed story of the previous night.

The conversation consisted almost exclusively of Allison and Lydia teasing me, rolling their eyes in exasperation, or else reprimanding me for not making a move. I didn't appreciate being berated, but at the same time, it was nice to just be girls for a while. It offered me a brief respite from my guilt. Allison needed a break from all the whispers and hate that had been following her around town. Lydia was still repairing the damage to her bitchy façade, so her genuine smiles kept peeking through. I could tell she was relieved by Allison's visit, glad that I wasn't the only person in town who still wanted to be friends with her.

By sundown, the doctors had decided that Lydia was free to go. They suggested that she rest, not engage in strenuous activity, and spend as much time around other people as possible. Lydia wasn't too pleased with the order—she didn't want a babysitter breathing down her neck twenty-four-seven—but it was the only preventative measure the doctors could think of.

No one could figure out exactly what had happened; Lydia didn't even remember herself. All she knew was that she'd gotten in the shower, and then she was standing in the middle of the forest a mile out from the crime scene. There were blurry memories in between—the cold, the trees; besides that, Lydia couldn't remember a thing. The doctors didn't know how to handle that besides to hope it just…wasn't going to happen again. That left her with two options: stay at the hospital for observation, or go home and let one of us stay with her.

Needless to say, Lydia picked the babysitter.

I spent the night in her room, just the way I had after the attack on the video store. I got just as little sleep, too. I kept waking up in fear, terrified I might roll over in bed to find that Lydia was gone, that she'd slipped through my fingers while I was asleep. But Lydia stayed exactly where she was, conked out on her side, snoring, cuddled up in the ball. Then I'd relax, and let my eyes flutter closed again. I hadn't failed her just yet.

The biggest jolt came in the morning. The light crept through the curtains, filling me with an odd sense of victory. We'd done it. We'd lasted the night. And then I noticed the empty sheets next to me.

"Lydia?!"

I sprang out of bed to check the windows, making sure they were still shut tight. I sprinted to the hall and nearly collided with Lydia in the doorway.

"Wow, yeah. Good morning. Chill out."

"Lydia, what are you doing?"

"Coming back from the bathroom? I'm sorry, I didn't realize it was a crime to have a bladder."

I sighed in frustration, quickly pulling her into a hug. "God, you scared the shit out of me. Why didn't you wake me up?"

I felt her chin dig into my shoulder as her whole head moved with the force of her eye roll. She hugged me back just the same.

"Sadie, I don't need your help using the bathroom. Sorry you freaked, but seriously. Chill."

She pushed me off of her and walked over to her dresser. I nodded to myself, trying to re-inflate my lungs. I couldn't be around Lydia all the time. She was smart, she was safe, and she was going to be okay if it was the last thing I did. We would just have a normal, safe day at home. Watch some movies, eat comfort food, and sit around in our pajamas.

Only Lydia wasn't in her pajamas anymore. She was wearing a form-fitting maroon dress, black heels already on her feet, looking in the mirror and applying copious amounts of concealer to hide the bags under her eyes.

"Lydia?" I asked again. "What are you doing?"

She barely spared me a glance in the mirror. "Getting ready for school? I thought it'd be better to show up in clothes instead of my nightgown. Or naked."

"School? You can't be serious."

"I am one hundred percent serious. Why wouldn't I be?"

"B-because you still have a bite in your side? Because you need more than two nights to recover from walking in the woods for two days straights?

Lydia huffed, capping her concealer and glaring at me in the mirror. "Did you go?"

"…what?"

"To school. Did you go to school last week?"

"Well…yeah…"

"Even though your shoulder is still healing and I was missing?"

"Yes, but—"

"Then kindly stop being a hypocrite and stop talking."

She tossed her hair over her shoulder and snatched her lip gloss off the dresser, too frustrated to remember that she was not up to that part of her routine. I stepped forward, gently taking her wrist and pulling the lip gloss away from her. Lydia fought for a moment, then blinked at the makeup in realization. She sagged on the spot, disheartened but not defeated.

"I just…I can't stay here," she said, glaring at the surface of her vanity. "I can't have you and your mom and my mom all watching me like I'm a time bomb and I'm gonna lose it again. I will lose it if I have to stay here. I'm not crazy. Nothing is wrong with me."

"I know, Lydia."

"Then why don't you want me to go?"

She turned to face me directly, and I immediately had to avert my eyes. I had plenty of reasons I didn't want Lydia to go to school. I wouldn't be able to keep an eye on her. The doctors had cleared her, but I knew there might be something else wrong, something deeper. It was a distinct possibility that she was turning, based on what Deaton had said. I didn't want her to hurt someone. I didn't want the Argents to swoop in and hurt her. And it didn't help that tonight was the full moon.

I had promised Lydia I was going to tell her everything. Even if she didn't remember, I had promised to explain. She still had no idea what was going on, blissfully ignorant of the werewolves and the hunters and the danger. I didn't want to ruin that image for her. On the other hand, when was the last time Lydia had been blissfully anything? The supernatural was already destroying her life, and I knew she would feel better if she knew why. I had felt better, when Stiles told me. She deserved fair warning if she was about to start transforming when the moon came up.

I had to tell her. But where was I supposed to start?

"Hold on," she said abruptly, her voice sharp. "Is this about Stilinski?"

"What?" I looked up in surprise. "No! No, this is—this is not about Stilinski."

"Oh my God, it totally is! This is totally about you not wanting to talk to Stiles!"

"Lydia, it really isn't."

"Look, Sadie, I get that after the first kiss, things can be kind of awkward, but you cannot use me as an excuse anymore. You kissed him, he kissed you, so go get your twitchy, horribly-dressed man."

"Yes, thank you, Lydia," I said through clenched teeth, "but this really isn't about me being nervous to—"

"Fine, fine," she dismissed, waving a hand through the air. "We'll pretend this has nothing to do with your boyfriend. One way or another, we are both going to school, so you should go to your room and put on the nice outfit I laid out for you."

"…outfit?"

Lydia shrugged. "I got up early and wanted to do something useful. Now shoo!"

She ushered me out into the hallway and slammed the door behind me. I groaned, scratching my forehead as I contemplated going back in to explain the real problem, but I knew Lydia. She was in no mood to listen, and anything I said now would be dismissed as a desperate attempt to avoid confrontation. I shouldn't have felt relieved, but I wasn't looking forward to telling her the truth either. The truth, another lie—they both felt wrong.

I chose the latter, following Lydia's instructions to get ready in my room. She certainly had put some though into my outfit; apparently we'd both be matching in maroon and black today. I accepted the low-cut maroon blouse she'd picked out for me, but swapped the black mini skirt for black shorts and sheer stockings, and ditched the heels entirely. At this point, I knew better than to wear pumps on a full moon. My combat boots would be much safer.

I was downstairs a few minutes before Lydia, who was probably taking her time to ensure perfection for her grand reappearance. Mom and Natalie were sitting quietly at the kitchen counter, both sipping at tea and trying to make themselves busy so the anxiety about Lydia and I going to school wouldn't take over.

"Morning," I greeted, kissing my mother on the cheek. "Do we have tea diffusers?"

"Hm?" Natalie looked up from staring at her tea bag, and narrowed her eyes in thought. "We should…somewhere…"

She quickly got up and started shuffling though the kitchen drawers, finally unearthing a netted spoon from the back. I accepted it graciously, grabbing my purse and pulling out the bag of tea that Deaton had given me. I scooped some of the leaves into the net and snapped it shut, then grabbed a travel mug from one of the cabinets to fix the drink.

I wasn't a huge fan of tea, or coffee for that matter, but Deaton had insinuated it would help. I took a few hesitant sips after it had steeped, relieved to find that the spiced taste was actually pretty good. It made me feel warm and tingly, though that easily could have been a placebo effect.

"Sadie!" Lydia snapped while I was mid-sip. "Hurry up! Let's go!"

It took us another ten minutes to escape the concerned clutches of our mothers, but eventually, we made it into the car and were on our way to school. The ride was tense, but I swallowed anything I wanted to say. Lydia was already on edge, and she didn't need anyone else comforting her or giving her advice. Instead, I put on some music and let her work through her thoughts herself.

It was a visible process. Over time, she eased up on the gas pedal and stopped making so many short stops. Her hands loosened on the steering wheel and she allowed herself to relax back in her seat. She almost seemed back to normal by the time we pulled into the parking lot. Then suddenly, just as we passed the front doors, she slammed on the brakes.

I flew forward in my seat, caught by my seatbelt, but suddenly out of breath. "Oh my God!"

"Out of the car," she demanded evenly.

"What?" My jaw dropped, looking from her straight face to the very open road in front of her. "Lydia, what are you—"

"Out of the car! Now! Go!"

She smacked me repeatedly on the arm until I finally started to undo my seatbelt. "Okay! Ow! Fine! I'm going!"

I rushed to collect my bag from the floor, tumbling out of the car and slamming the door behind me. Hardly a nanosecond after it closed, Lydia was speeding off through the parking lot once more to find a spot. I glared after the car and rubbed my shoulder where the seatbelt had dug in. Then, grumbling, I turned to head into the school.

"Sadie! Hey!"

I froze on the spot and whirled around, immediately spotting the bright red, plaid shirt that was running toward me.

"Stiles. Right. That explains a lot…"

He was grinning as he jogged the last few steps up to me. "What?"

"What? Nothing! Uh…you're kinda early. What's up?"

"Morning practice," he said, patting the duffle bag at his side and vaguely gesturing to the lacrosse stick attached to his backpack.

"Yes. Obviously. Lacrosse."

"Yeah. 'Tis the season, so…"

I giggled—a high, wavering, disgusting sound that I tried to swallow as soon as I heard myself. Stiles nodded awkwardly as I pressed my lips together and considered making a break for it.

"So, uh…what are you doing here?" Stiles asked before I could flee. "I mean, I didn't expect to see you and Lydia for at least a week."

"Well, you know Lydia," I sighed, tucking a strand of hair behind my ear. "The faster things get back to normal, the happier she'll be. She doesn't want to stay at home and let people worry about her."

"Huh. Can't imagine why someone would do that."

He shot me a cheeky grin, and even though I felt like I was going to hurl, it made me smile.

"Thank you, by the way," I said shyly. "For uh…for the flowers…"

"Oh!" He flushed, and had a few false starts of his next sentence. "You got—yeah, I'm glad—I just wanted—you know, I'm uh…happy you're okay. Both! That um—that both of you are okay."

It was quiet for a few seconds as we both stared at the ground, admiring each other's shoes. I knew that he was waiting for me to take the first step. He wasn't going to push me. I needed to say something, but there were so many somethings to say and none of them sounded good, not when we were standing in a crowd in front of the school. God, I really did feel like I was gonna be sick…

"So," he started, making my eyes jump back to his face. "So, Lydia is okay, right?"

"Uh, yeah. She's okay."

"She's good? I mean, like…she's gonna be totally fine?"

"Well, um…I guess it's hard to say. What with tonight and all."

"Tonight?" he repeated, before his eyes blew wide. "Right! Tonight. Moon. Things. Yeah…"

"I actually wanted to talk about that," I said, leaping at the subject change. "Do you think you and Scott would be okay solo? I want to help but—I mean, if something happens to Lydia, then I need to be there to help and—and if nothing happens, then I can't bring her with me—"

"No, no, totally," Stiles said, nodding his head. "Yeah, no, go ahead. Scott says he's feeling a lot better today, so…shouldn't have too many problems. I mean, I'm still gonna chain him up, but—"

He cut himself off as a group of senior girls walked past us, overhearing precisely the wrong thing and bursting into giggles. Stiles gulped, his face rapidly starting to turn as red as his plaid shirt…

"Oh my God, your shirt!" I clapped a hand to my head. "Shit, I totally forgot. I'm sorry, I—I can bring it tomorrow, or—"

"Woah, hey, it's—it's fine," he assured me. He laughed and took a few steps closer. "I'm really not worried about it, Sadie. I know where you live, and…I've got others."

"I know. It's just like—at this point I've got your shirt, and your sweatshirt, and—God, I've still got your hat. It's like, give me your pants and I could commit identity fraud, ha!"

I snapped my mouth shut again, ready to scream. Fuck. This was going so badly. That was terrible. Had I just told him to take his pants off? Did he think I asked him to take his pants off? He was just staring at me now. I was definitely blushing. Fuck, this was bad.

"Anyway, I—I just mean—I just wanted to—"

He continued to look at me expectantly. I opened my mouth to speak, but absolutely nothing came out. I just let those maple eyes bore into me until I felt my stomach tumble, threatening to jump out of my throat and onto the sidewalk between us.

"I should go find where Lydia parked."

"Hm?" Stiles raised his eyebrows, and I tried to ignore the disappointment that flashed across his face. "Oh. Yeah. Right."

"Have fun at practice."

"Yes!" he agreed, running a hand over his hair. "Yes, I'll…I'll see you later."

"Later. Yes."

We stood there a little longer, each of us shuffling our feet, before Stiles gave me a curt nod and scurried past me into the building. The moment he was gone, all the feeling rushed back to my brain, like someone had dumped a bucket of emotions over my head. I was partially relieved, partially furious with myself, and the majority of me still wanted to puke.

Lydia jumped out from nowhere, latching onto my arm with a manic grin. "So?! What did you say?!"

"I uh…told him to have fun at practice…"

"…what?"

"I told him to have fun at his morning lacrosse practice."

Lydia's smile evaporated. She stared at me for a few seconds before violently smacking me upside the head.

"Ow!"

"Seriously?! Sadie, you are unbelievable. Unbelievable!" She pushed her bookbag into my arms and brandished a manicured finger in my face, glaring fiercely. "That was the perfect—just—ugh! Hold my stuff. Hold it until you learn to be a strong, determined, decisive woman!"

"Lydia, that doesn't make any—"

"Sh! No! No speaking! God, Sadie!"

A gentle giggle interrupted our arguing, and we both turned to see Allison striding up to us. "Geez, what did Sadie do to get in the dog house?"

I opened my mouth to speak, but Lydia silenced me with one finger and a scowl. I rolled my eyes, pressing my lips together and folding my arms over my chest.

"Sadie promised Stiles that they would talk about their standing after I was better."

"Yeah," Allison agreed. "I remember."

"Well, now I'm better, and the first time Sadie sees Stiles, she decides a better use of her time would be to talk about lacrosse."

"Sadie!" Allison scolded, and I grimaced.

"I never actually said I was going to talk to him…"

Lydia slapped me again. "Sadie, I swear to God. He kissed you. I am so over this whole nervous act you're pulling."

"It's not an act! I am really, genuinely, nauseatingly nervous about this!"

"Well, stop. It's giving me a migraine."

Allison giggled again, watching us in amusement. "So, Lydia, I guess you're feeling better?"

"For the most part," she agreed, leading the way up the path to the doors. "Besides being pushed to the edge of my sanity by friends and family, I'm perfectly fine."

"And the last few days…?"

"Were fine," Lydia dismissed, though she stiffened. "I don't know what happened, and neither do the doctors, but they've cleared me, so here I am."

"You really don't remember anything?" Allison asked, looking concerned.

"They call it a fugue state, which is basically a way of saying, 'We have no idea why you can't remember running through the woods naked for two days.'" I sent her a sympathetic glance, but the moment she saw it, she shook her head and forced a smile on her face. "But personally, I don't care. I lost nine pounds!"

She'd done a good job of repairing her mask of indifference, but like me, Allison was smart enough to see through it. She smiled sweetly and patted Lydia are the arm.

"Are you ready for this?"

"Please," Lydia scoffed, faking innocence. "It's not like my aunt's a serial killer."

She smirked at the low blow, and pushed her way through the front doors of the school. I patted Allison on the shoulder as the two of us cautiously filed in behind her. I might've snapped at Lydia for the crass joke, but Lydia had frozen two steps inside the building…and everyone else had frozen too.

Every single student in the hallway had stopped what they were doing to turn and stare at us in the doorway. A few leaned in to each other to whisper, some snickered to themselves, and the rest just stood in silent judgment. We must've been quite the trio: the damaged new girl, the girl with a serial killing aunt, and the crazy girl who'd gone streaking through the woods. I glared at anyone stupid enough to make eye contact with me. Allison smiled politely and tucked a strand of hair behind her ear. And Lydia stood in front of us, hands clasped in front of her, eyes darting back and forth like a caged animal.

My heart screamed at me to comfort her, but I knew Lydia would hate that. She was only at school because she wanted to prove that she wasn't weak; offering assistance would undermine that goal.

Seconds ticked by, until Allison leaned in to whisper to Lydia. "Maybe it's the nine pounds?"

I glared at her, but it did the trick for Lydia. She lifted her chin, huffed, and flicked a strand of perfectly curled, strawberry blonde hair over her shoulder. She narrowed her eyes at the crowd in front of us and then held her hand back to me, palm up. I stared at it for a few seconds until she flicked her wrist, ushering me to hurry up. I slid her bag off my shoulder, handing it to her so she could carry her things herself. She pulled the strap over her shoulder, took one deep breath, and then strutted forward with all the determination of a general marching into battle.

The crowd parted before her. Maybe it wasn't like old times—they were backing away out of fear and apprehension instead of awe and respect—but they parted just the same. Allison and I fell into step behind her, following into formation, all eyes on us. It was just like the first day of school all over again, but with Lydia and Allison by my side, I found that my confidence was no longer an act. It was genuine.

We walked Lydia to her locker, standing by her side as she traded out her books and coat. As soon as she retrieved her things, she slammed the door shut and turned to glare at us.

"You can stop breathing down my neck now, thanks."

"What?" I shared a bewildered look with Allison. "Lyd, I always walk you to your locker. It's kind of routine."

"Well it doesn't feel like routine. It feels like I have two bodyguards completely freaking out over my safety, and I do not need bodyguards. So I am going to find Danny and go to my first class, and you two are not going to follow me. Okay?"

"Okay," Allison agreed, holding up her hands in surrender.

"Fine, just…text me if you need me," I sighed, and Lydia turned on her heel. "I'm serious, Lydia! If you feel—"

"I got it!"

She stalked away from us, and I watched hopelessly as she rounded the corner and disappeared from my sight. Immediately, my stomach churned with anxiety. I didn't like being away from her. Not when so many things could go wrong.

Allison wrapped an arm around my shoulders. "Sadie, you need to relax. She's gonna be fine."

"You think?" I asked, my eyes still fixed on the end of the hallway.

"It's Lydia. She's unstoppable. If anyone bothers her, she'll probably rip their heads off."

"Yeah, that's kind of what I'm worried about."

"Don't worry," Allison instructed. "She's gonna be fine."

I wish she'd sounded more convincing. As it was, Allison sounded like she was trying to console herself almost as much as she was trying to console me.

"On a lighter note," she offered, steering me around to walk in the opposite direction, "what happened with you and Stiles?"

"God, I don't know," I groaned. "I told him that Lydia was okay, and he just sort of stood there staring at me and I panicked. I accidentally made a joke that sounded like I wanted him to take his pants off, and then I told him to have fun at practice."

"Ouch. That bad?"

"Terrible. I felt like I was gonna hurl. I still might, honestly."

"You know, Stiles probably feels like that too," she reminded me, smiling with equal parts sympathy and amusement. "He's just as nervous as you are, if not more. And he's stuck his foot in his mouth plenty of times! You still like him, right?"

"Yeah, but what if he doesn't like me?"

Allison stopped short and gave me a severely unimpressed look.

"I'm serious, Ally! After everything I've done, what if…what if this just turns out to be another…thing…?"

"A thing?" Her face softened, and she shuffled her books to the other arm so she could grab my hand. "Sadie, I know there are a lot of guys out there who suck, but Stiles isn't one of them. He's not playing games with you, and he's not going to just stop talking to you. Think about everything you guys have already been through, and he's still right here. Stiles is worried out of his mind about you, and you think he doesn't like you? I mean, have you seen the way he looks at you?"

I bit my lip and stared down the hallway, too nervous to recall any time Stiles had ever set eyes on me. Allison gently shook my arm and tugged me back into motion.

"He's trying to give you space to work things out with Lydia, but you can't keep putting it off. Lydia's going to do what Lydia wants. It's time to worry about yourself. So as a wise friend of mine once said, you might have to make the first move."

"I don't know how to do that," I insisted. "I can barely look at him! How am I supposed to ask him out?"

"Well, you could start by telling him that you do actually want him to take off his pants…"

She smirked, and I promptly whacked her with my English binder.

"You know what? Lydia's got the right idea. I'm not walking with you. I'll see you later."

I tried to storm off with all the dignity that I had left, but Allison's giggles were making it difficult. I sincerely wanted to hit her again, but I also knew that she was right. As far as I was aware, when I'd kissed Stiles, it had been his first kiss too. He was probably freaking out, and he didn't deserve to worry about it so much. I liked him. A lot. And I didn't have Lydia as an excuse anymore. I'd made him wait weeks, and he hadn't left the hospital. When I told him how guilty I felt about Kate, he'd given me a teddy bear and forgave me. After everything, he was still right there. It was about time I was there for him too.

"Hi, Sadie."

I let out a yelp of surprise and jumped back from my locker. I'd been so wrapped up in my thoughts, I hardly noticed someone leaning on the wall next to me. I raised my eyebrows, taking in the lean figure and soft smile.

"Isaac, hey," I greeted, trying to catch my breath. "You uh…you scared me."

"Sorry," he said with a small grin.

"Um, how are you?"

"I am…" He paused, nodding at the ground for a few seconds before he looked back up at me. "I'm good. Better than I've been in a while."

"Well, that's good," I said, closing my locker. "At least this week has been good for someone."

His smile faltered, and he pushed off the wall so he could stand properly in front of me. It suddenly struck me how tall Isaac was. He drew himself up to his full height, and he was standing so close that I actually had to look up at him.

"I wanted to make sure that you were okay," he said, hands grabbing at the strap of his bag.

"Oh." I blinked at him in surprise, caught off by the sincerity in his voice. "I'm fine."

"I was really worried after formal. I thought about coming to see you at the hospital, but I wasn't sure if that would be weird. Then you weren't in school, and then I was out for a couple days too. Guess I just missed you."

"Well, thank you," I said with a smile, "but…I'm fine."

To my surprise, Isaac smiled. And it wasn't the feeble, forced smile I'd gotten used to. It wasn't even one of the small, genuine ones I'd had the privilege of coaxing out of him on occasion. This was a wide, lopsided grin, one that made his eye crinkle and his face light up like I'd never seen it before. My eyes widened further, completely floored.

"You said that already," Isaac pointed out, tilting his head to the side.

It took a second for that sentence to sink in, but when it did, I let out a soft laugh and closed my eyes. It looked like it was going to be one of those days where I just made an ass out of myself in front of every single person I interacted with.

"Yes, I did," I agreed, running a hand through my hair in an attempt to seem like the functioning human being I was supposed to be. "I just mean, uh…thank you. For checking up on me. That's really sweet. And it wouldn't have been weird if you visited the hospital, but I don't blame you. Things were crazy for a while, but—"

"But you're fine?" he guessed, quirking an eyebrow.

I smirked at him. "But I'm fine."

"Okay. I'm really glad to hear that." He shrugged, glancing up and down the hallway before he sighed. "Well, I've gotta get to practice, but…I'll see you soon, Sadie."

"Yeah, I'll uh…see you later, Isaac."

He took a couple steps backward, gave me one last smile, and then finally turned to make his way toward the locker room.

I watched him go curiously. Something was definitely new with Isaac. I realized, with a slight jolt, that this was the first conversation we'd ever had where he hadn't stuttered once. If anything, I'd been the one tripping over myself. I couldn't put my finger on what had changed about him, but more than anything, he seemed happier. And honestly, that made me a little happier.

I smiled to myself, nodding my approval of this small development and continuing onto class. That happy, bubbly feeling stayed with me as I settled in at my desk, going over all the work I'd missed and trying to catch up. It stayed with me when Allison joined me, continuing to rag on me for not asking out Stiles when I had the chance. It stayed with me right up until Stiles and Scott ran into the room, tumbling into their seats with panicked expressions.

Allison giggled and raised an eyebrow. "Woah, there. What's the rush?"

"We've got a problem," Scott said gravely.

Stiles nodded. "Huge problem."

"What is it?" I asked, putting my book aside.

Stiles and Scott glanced at each other, Stiles gesturing for his friend to take the lead. Scott's hands tightened on the back of his chair as he looked around the room, checking to make sure no one was listening in.

"Isaac Lahey's a werewolf."