Right Beside You (2022)

by BrittWitt16

Sadie feels like she's drowning—in guilt, in fear, in darkness. She doesn't know how to help Lydia after winter formal. She doesn't know how to protect her friends when there's an all-out war brewing between werewolves and hunters. But most of all, she doesn't know if she can trust herself to make the right choices. / REWRITE OF MY 2013 SERIES

11. A Perfect Combination

"What about this one?"

"I don't know, Lyd. You don't think that's a little too formal?"

"It won't hurt for her to look her best."

"I don't think it really fits the date though. Hm…what about something like this?"

"Allison, she wears stuff like that all the time. This is a date! It has to be special!"

"It's gonna be special no matter what you stick her in."

"Ooh, I like this one!"

"Too short!"

"No one asked you, Sadie."

I rolled my eyes, slouching forward at my vanity and letting my head fall into my hands.

Allison, Lydia and I were all scattered around my bedroom, and had been for the last few hours. The first had been spent on homework, which had been torture. It was impossible to get anything done when my brain kept drifting away from the words on the page. I was too excited to focus on my work and I was too nervous to focus on my date. I was a disaster.

It was lucky that I had Allison and Lydia to keep me on track. They dragged me through my homework and then harassed me into getting ready. Lydia shoved me into the shower to complete a specific routine that rivalled the tasks I'd had to complete before formal. The list was even longer this time, presumably because Stiles was actually my date this time. I skirted a few steps to save water, and prayed that Lydia wouldn't notice. She and Allison had leapt on me when I returned, excited to curl my hair, but I drew the line at makeup. I knew how to do my own, and I didn't need them breathing down my neck, or else slathering my face with so much product the top layer just slid off. I'd been sent into time out in front of my vanity, while Allison and Lydia dove into my closet to find acceptable date-wear.

Allison must have been able to sense my growing agitation, because she sided with me in the argument.

"Maybe Sadie's right, Lydia. Let's build up to the miniskirts. It's only their first date, and there'll be plenty of time to wear the rest."

"Ugh, fine," Lydia huffed, shoving a skirt I was certain must have been hers back into my closet. "How abooout…this?"

"Oh yeah, I like that," said Allison, taking the hanger and twirling the skirt back and forth in the air. "What do you think, Sadie?"

I bit back a comment that it really wouldn't matter what I was wearing because I was about two seconds from making myself sick before I could go out, and tried to consider the outfit with clarity.

It was simple, which I was thankful for after listening to them debate options for so long: a white shirt with a flattering scoop neckline, more than a little low cut, and a tiered grey skirt. There was some sliver detailing that made it shine in the light, and before I could comment on the length, Lydia held up a pair of grey leggings to go with it.

"It's perfect," she replied for me. "Sadie, up. You change into this and we will find you a nice sweater to go with it."

"Maybe a hoodie too?" Allison quietly as the garments were tossed at my face. "And we need to grab her some gloves."

"Gloves?" I asked with distaste. "We're not staying outside, are we?"

"You don't get to know," Lydia snapped. "Now strip."

I rolled my eyes, but didn't question her again.

After I'd changed and been lectured for another fifteen minutes, which was Lydia's version of a pep talk, Allison asked her to go bring "the stuff" down to the car. Lydia wasn't pleased at being issued an order, but she flounced out of the room to give Allison and I some privacy before we had to leave. Allison was kind enough to let out the deep breath that I was holding in, shaking her head at Lydia's fervor.

"You hanging in there?" she asked with a sympathetic smile.

I gave a non-committal shrug, smoothing out the fabric of my skirt and playing with the waistband, assuring that my shirt was properly tucked in. Allison grabbed my hands so I would stop fussing, and pulled me to my feet.

"Sadie, it's gonna be fine. You and Stiles are great together. I'm gonna be right there with you, no matter what happens, and so will Scott and Lydia. We're just…calling it a little something different tonight."

"But what if that word messes everything up?" I asked in distress. "I mean, I'm just…I'm so nervous, and I don't know what he's expecting, and I don't—I don't want to mess this up. What if I say the wrong thing and he—"

"Okay, you seriously do not need to worry about Stiles," she said with a giggle. "How many times has he said the wrong thing to you? Think about all the little things you like about him, like how he stammers, or flails when he's nervous, or literally always has his mind in the gutter. You like those things about him and he's the same way about you. You're both new at this, so what does it matter if you mess up? You're just gonna laugh about it and like each other even more. Okay?"

She sent me a sweet, reassuring smile, and I squeezed her hands with all the force I could muster.

"Allison, you're the best. Have I mentioned that today?"

"Feel free to keep 'em coming," she laughed.

She spun me toward the door, hooked her arm through mind, and led me downstairs so we could say goodbye.

Everyone was waiting for us in the kitchen. Lydia looked up from her conversation with her mother, and my mom leapt from her seat, looking like she was about to explode. She hurried over to us with a wide grin and spun me in a circle to get a better look at my outfit. Then she let out a dreamy sigh, grabbing my shoulders with shaky arms, like she was still trying to decide if she wanted to pull me into a hug or just stare at me some more.

"Oh, sweetheart, you look beautiful. Stiles won't know what hit him."

"Thanks, Mom…"

"You really do look lovely, dear," Natalie agreed with a small wink. "Good luck."

"Ha. And thank you, Natalie…"

Mom pouted for a moment, crossing her arms over her chest.

"Is it really necessary for you girls to drive there? I mean, it's the first date. Isn't it tradition for him to pick you up? Shouldn't I at least be allowed the privilege of scaring the crap out of him with the whole 'have her home by curfew' talk?"

"Mom," I groaned, as everyone else laughed, "it's easier this way because we're all going. It's supposed to be some kind of surprise. I'm sure you can save the maternal death threats for next time."

Mom's frown disappeared in a flash, traded for an excited, schoolgirl grin. "You think there's gonna be a next time?"

"Hopefully…?"

"Oh, there will be a next time," Lydia scoffed, marching to my side. "There will be a next time if it's the last thing I do. Don't worry, Claire. I'll make sure everything goes off without a hitch."

"Thank you, Lydia," she replied with a grin, "but I don't think you'll have too much to worry about."

I fidgeted as they all turned to smile at me knowingly, each with varying degrees of amusement as they watched me squirm. The butterflies in my stomach batted at the walls, desperate for some sort of release as I bit my lip.

"We should probably get going," Allison said, taking pity on me. "Knowing Stiles, I wouldn't be surprised if he was already there."

"Alright, alright. I won't keep you," Mom sighed. "I know you girls would rather be there than here with us…"

She clapped her hands once and then winced, raising a finger to each of my friends with an apologetic grin.

"Actually, do you girls mind heading out? I just want to talk to Sadie for a few seconds."

Lydia and Allison nodded in understanding, assuring me that they'd be waiting in the car. Natalie followed them out of the room, and we waited until everyone's footsteps had faded before looking at each other.

Mom smiled softly, grabbing my hand and pulling me over to the counter. "You ready?"

"No?"

She laughed and reached out to pull my hair over my shoulder. With better access to my neck, she was able to pull the silver chain hanging there, straightening the clasp and ensuring that my dog tags were lying flat below my collarbone.

"How about now?"

"Still no," I sighed.

My fingers danced over the familiar metal surface. Playing with the dog tags was something I did so often, I was sure I must have them memorized. Someone could give me a thousand pairs of dog tags and I'd be able to find mine with my eyes closed. My fingers were so used to the tiny bumps in the engraving. They had to be.

Mom watched me for a few seconds before grabbing my hands again. "I'm sorry he's not here."

"Yeah. Me too."

"I know he always…joked about how you were never allowed to date, and how he was going to lock up the first guy that tried something with you, but…he wanted you to be happy. I'm sure he'd be really excited to see you going out with Stiles. He's good for you."

I grinned, briefly recalling all of the laws I'd broken since I started hanging out with Stiles. I wonder if she'd feel the same way about him if she knew about the car chase, or the time we'd broken into Fenris's house. But all Mom could see was me smiling as I thought about Stiles.

"Okay, now go on. It's taken you two entirely too long to get together. Don't leave him waiting any longer."

She wrapped an arm around my shoulders and walked me to the front door, kissing the top of my head before ushering me out the door. She called out about twenty different variations of "good luck" in the time it took me to get in the car, and she walked to the end of the driveway so she could wave at us until we disappeared down the street.

The moment I lost sight of her, my stomach lurched. We were out of the house. We were in the car. We were officially on our way.

Or I thought we were. Until we pulled up to Allison's house.

"This is the big surprise?" I asked, scrunching up my nose. "First date with the Argents. Fun."

"I just have to grab a few things," Allison promised. "Five minutes tops. You guys can stay in the car if—"

"Absolutely not," Lydia disagreed. "It's freezing out here. Are you kidding?"

Allison and I exchanged similar looks of panic.

"I don't really want to go," I said quickly. "I think if I move, I might hurl."

"Then we should get you closer to the bathroom," Lydia snipped.

"No, maybe she's right," Allison agreed with me. "If my parents see how nice you guys look, they're gonna start asking questions, and they're not gonna believe we're just studying, and I really, really can't tell them what's going—"

"Allison, I always look this fabulous. What's life without a little rebellion?"

Lydia was already out of the car. She walked up to the house without waiting for either of us, and invited herself inside without question. Allison and I looked at each other again, but this time, without options. Lydia had already walked into the lion's den, completely unaware that the people inside were considering whether or not her head needed to be put on a pike. It was up to us to protect her.

I hadn't been to the Argents' house since the day we went shopping for formal dresses. That felt like a lifetime ago. These days, I knew I wasn't a welcome guest. At the same time, there wasn't really anything the Argents could do about it.

Peter's attack on the lacrosse field had been a blessing in one way: the Argents needed Allison to keep an eye on Lydia. For Allison to keep an eye on Lydia, she'd have to continue spending time with me, but by spending time with me, she also had access to Scott and Stiles, which meant she might never change her mind about the nature of werewolves. The Argents could try to tell Allison she had to stop associating with me, but that would put both me and Lydia out of their reach. They could try to ban me from the house, but so long as Lydia was with me, that would raise a red flag for Lydia. The Argent house might have been a lion's den, but they couldn't eat me just yet.

That didn't stop Allison from ushering us up to her bedroom as fast as possible to avoid any confrontation. It didn't stop me from literally hiding in the corner of Allison's room while she hurried to get her stuff together. That saved me when Mr. Argent stopped by to have a word with his daughter. It didn't save me the second time someone knocked on the door.

"Oh my God, Dad," Allison groaned, stomping to let him in. "I told you, we're just going to the—oh…hi, Gerard."

I froze in my spot on the floor, tucked away next to Allison's closet. I didn't have a clear view of the man in the doorway, and I was hoping it would stay that way. Unfortunately for me, Gerard seemed to sense that. He invited himself into the room, looking around with that genial smile. His eyes found me at once, twinkling with amusement when he saw how I was balled up in the corner. I forced my muscles to relax, hoping to appear less terrified than I was.

"Um…can I help you with something?" Allison asked, teetering between fear and irritation.

"Oh, I'm sorry, dear," Gerard chuckled. "Just wanted to stop by and meet my favorite granddaughter's friends."

It took every ounce of my self-control not to shoot a worried look at Lydia. I'd already been introduced to Gerard, which meant that was code for "stop by and take a closer look at the girl who was bitten by an Alpha." Confident as I was that Lydia wasn't a werewolf, his interest didn't fill me with confidence.

But Lydia didn't know to be suspicious. All she knew was that there was an adult standing in front of her, waiting for her to make a good impression. She hopped out of her chair in the corner with a wide smile and skipped over to him, holding out her hand. "Lydia Martin. Pleasure to meet you, Principal Argent."

"Ah, the pleasure is mine," he assured her. "I've heard nothing but good things from Allison, of course. Top of your class, and quite the social butterfly, if I'm not mistaken."

Lydia tossed her hair with pride, and Gerard turned his sharp eyes on me.

"Sadie, it's always nice to see you. How's that hand holding up?"

"What? Oh…it's fine, yeah." I forced a laugh out of my throat and a smile onto my face, experimentally waving around the hand I'd used to punch Jackson. "And it's nice to see you too."

"So, what do you girls have planned for the night?" he asked, rubbing his hands together with an air of excitement. "Fun night out on the town?"

"We're just studying at the library," Allison repeated firmly.

"And I'm sure your textbooks will appreciate you dressing up for them." He winked, but when Allison opened her mouth to argue, he waved her off. "No, no. It's fine. I understand the appeal of being a rebel teenager—but don't say anything else. If I don't know, then I don't have to lie to your father. And lying is such an ugly thing to do."

He chuckled at his own joke, Lydia joining in with a giggle, but they were the only ones. I could only hear the threat under his words, paralyzing me even before he looked at me. Gerard lifted his hand again, silently pardoning himself as he shook his head.

"My apologies, girls. I suppose my jokes aren't quite as good as they used to be. Actually, I was wondering if I might be able to talk to Sadie for a minute. No need to worry," he added when my eyes widened in fear, "just some boring school stuff. Better than calling you down to the office and having you miss class. It'll just take a moment."

He nodded his head toward the door, not bothering to wait for an answer. It was clear I didn't have any real choice in the matter.

I shared a terrified look with Allison, my stomach turning to stone, but before I could come up with any decent excuse, Lydia was rolling her eyes.

"Just go, Sadie! The sooner you get up, the sooner we can go. Chill."

I glared at her, but climbed to my feet. My legs were sore from sitting, which was only half the reason it was hard to walk into the hall, but Allison caught my eye as I passed her.

"We're right here," she reminded me, in total seriousness. "We'll get out of here."

I nodded. Even if Gerard knew everything about me—that I knew about werewolves, that I knew where to find Derek, that I'd shot his daughter—he couldn't kill me in front of witnesses. Whatever was waiting for me in the hall was sure to be terrible, but I wasn't getting cut in half just yet.

Gerard was waiting patiently for me just outside Allison's room. He had his hands clasped in front of him and gave me a soft smile when I emerged. I managed to pull one together myself, but it faded when he reached out to close the door behind me.

"If you're trying to find out where we're going, you really grabbed the wrong friend, Principal Argent. I have no clue what we're doing tonight."

"Oh please, Gerard," he corrected. "Gerard is fine, Sadie, so long as we're not on school grounds. And not to worry. I'm not going to interrogate you about your plans for the night. To be honest, I'm sure I'd rather not know."

He chuckled to himself again. I wondered how much of that was true, or if Gerard was just the only one who was allowed to lie. His laughter died away, soon replaced by a solemn stare that made me want to fidget.

"I just hope you girls are going to be careful," he continued. "Keep an eye on each other. All these deaths and attacks…I'd hate for something else to happen."

"Of course," I agreed. "We'll look out for each other, but I wouldn't worry too much. Allison knows how to take care of herself."

"Oh, it's not Allison I'm worried about."

That solemn stare fleetingly turned into a probing one, and I pressed my lips into a tight line, trying to contain my nerves.

"I heard about the…incident Lydia had at the hospital, after the attack. I can't imagine how hard it must be, losing a friend like that."

"Well, thankfully I didn't lose her," I said firmly. "She found her way home, and the doctors are confident she'll make a full recovery."

"That would be quite a feat. An attack like that, I can only imagine the…effect it must have had on you girls."

I smiled, keeping myself from gagging as the fear rose in my throat like bile. I hated holding myself back while he was as good as threatening my friends, but I knew that I had to. The alternative would be much, much worse.

"Well, we're fine," I insisted, attempting to sound gracious. "No lasting harm done. Aside from some shock, we're just as normal as you are."

"Oh, now, I'm not sure you want to go using me as a standard for normality." He chuckled, but seemed to accept the truth of my statement for the moment. "Speaking of normal, I was hoping to get your insight on something. I know I've had a relatively brief stint as principal, but I was quite alarmed to see another emergency vehicle on campus so soon. Would you say that's normal for Beacon Hills High School?"

"Emergency vehicle?" I asked, with genuine confusion. I wracked my brains, trying to remember the last time I'd seen a police cruiser after Isaac's arrest. I came up blank, but— "Oh, you mean Erica!"

I relaxed, then immediately tensed again. That wasn't good.

"Another friend of yours?" Gerard asked astutely.

"Actually…no," I answered, which was true. "Erica kinda hates me."

That answer seemed to catch him off guard. He frowned, and I allowed myself a brief moment of relief. I'd actually managed to knock him off his rhythm.

"Whatever for?" he asked when he recovered, putting his grandpa smile on again. "I can't imagine many people have a reason to hate Sadie Bennet."

I didn't have any plans of gushing to Gerard about my boy problems, so I spoke with as much truth as I could.

"I think…I upset her this morning. We were doing a wall climb in gym and she was having a lot of trouble, so I took the harness and went up to help her. She was really embarrassed and…when she tried to go again, she ended up triggering a seizure, because she's epileptic. I think she's mad cause…even though I was trying to help her, I might've made the whole thing about myself."

"Ah, I see." Gerard nodded thoughtfully, piercing eyes considering me once more. "It's a curse to have a tender heart in this world. Remember that. Heat not a furnace for your foe so hot that it do singe yourself."

"…Sorry?"

"Shakespeare," he elaborated with a wink. "Henry VIII. I like to think it means that there's a time and a place for compassion, but you should always put yourself first. Never forget who the real enemy is."

"Oh…" I chewed on my bottom lip, trying to regain my composure. "Well…I like to think that…we're only so strong as we are united, as weak as we are divided."

Gerard raised an eyebrow at me.

"Harry Potter," I explained.

There was a beat of silence before Gerard began to laugh. Not just his sensible chuckle, but a real, full body laugh that sounded odd in his deep, tilted voice. I could almost hear Kate underneath it.

"Oh, Sadie," he sighed, patting himself on the chest. "I can see why Kate was so fond of you. You're sharp, and you're very good at this little game."

"Game?" I repeated innocently. "I'm not sure what you mean."

Gerard smiled at me for a moment, bobbing his head before he leaned forward a few inches. "You know, this is much more fun when we're talking in code. You're much better with interesting half-truths than you are with lies, Miss Bennet, and I despise being lied to."

That knocked the carefully composed expression right off my face. I stared at him in shock; I'd suspected that Gerard knew the truth, but I'd never expected him to call me out on it. Not so soon, and not like this.

That seemed to be the reaction he was looking for. His face spread into a wide, disconcerting grin.

"You're a smart girl, Sadie. I just want to make sure you're prepared for what's coming." He tapped his nose twice, and walked past me toward the stairs. "You girls have a nice time tonight. Send my regards to Mr. Stilinski."

It felt as though my entire body had sunk two inches into the ground, pressed down from the sheer weight of my fear. I knew I should've been far more worried about Gerard calling me a liar than him knowing how I felt about Stiles, but I wasn't. In fact, I was infinitely more worried. There was no way to tell how much he knew, but I felt it was already too much. He knew too much about us, my friends, how we worked and what was going on. And the moment he decided we were getting in the way, I knew that he would act on it.

I'm not sure how long I stood there, staring blankly at the end of the hallway and trying to get my thoughts under control. Today had just sucked—colossally: Erica freaking out in gym, getting the bite, plus her new apparent vendetta against me, Lydia getting yelled at by Jackson, me not being allowed to pummel Jackson, and now Gerard and his threats. What a day to have right before my first date.

And somehow, that thought brought me back to reality. My date. I was going on a date with Stiles. And if there was one people I could count on to turn my mood around, no matter how upset I was, it was Stiles Stilinski.

I pushed my way back into Allison's room, interrupting the hushed conversation she was having with Lydia. Allison stopped dead, her face full of concern.

"Are you okay?"

"Fine," I assured her, with a smile much steadier than I felt. "Let's get out of here."

It was like I'd taken their excitement off pause. In an instant, Allison and Lydia were back in support mode, collecting their things and whisking me off to the car. I'd been pushed into the back while the girls sat up front, making me feel oddly formal. Allison put on a mix of music that Lydia had specially crafted for the occasion, and they kept a steady stream of advice flowing from the front seats: Just be yourself. Don't be too sarcastic. Remember to breathe. Let him take the lead. Stand your ground. Go easy on him, but only so you can wow him later. Don't let him kiss you until the end. Don't shut him down too hard. Make the first move if you want to. It went on and on.

I wasn't really listening to them anyway. I was trying to focus on the music and my breathing. I figured if I didn't have a heart attack before we made it to our destination, it would be a miracle.

It felt like seconds before Allison was pulling off the road into an empty parking lot.

"Seriously?" I asked, looking up at the dark building. "Not that I don't love winter sports, but isn't the rink closed?"

Lydia promptly shushed me. I rolled my eyes and looked back out the window. There was only one other car there, the pale blue Jeep parked under a streetlight next to the front doors. Two figures were standing outside, one leaning casually against the vehicle while the other paced and hopped the length of the car.

I felt the telltale flutter in my stomach when I saw Stiles, but this time, it didn't feel like the butterflies were throwing themselves against the walls. It almost felt like they were flying in formation, giving me a tingling, lightheaded feeling that just seemed to make sense. Nerve-wracking as it was, this is where I was supposed to be. This felt right.

The engine cut out, music dying abruptly as Allison and Lydia turned around in their seats to look at me.

"You ready?" Allison asked with a supportive smile.

"Don't answer that," Lydia instructed, before I could even nod. "Of course you're ready. You've only been obsessed with him since like the first day of school."

"What?" My jaw dropped in indignation. "No! I—I have not!"

"Oh, you so have. Come on! Let's just get this over with. Remember, Sadie, you are in control here."

Lydia hopped out of the car with a sly smile, leaving Allison with the job of calming me down.

"Don't worry," she whispered, thought she was still giggling. "Everything's gonna be fine, Sadie. It's just Stiles."

"Easy for you to say…"

Allison smirked, winking cheekily before she followed Lydia's lead and hopped out of the car. Despite the way my fingers were starting to shake, it was time for me to do the same.

I forced myself to climb out of the car, smoothing down my skirt again and flattening the cardigan Lydia had grabbed for me, anything that would keep my occupied for a few more seconds.

Eventually, I had to look up. I had to face the fact that I was standing in a parking lot with my best friends, three of whom were looking between Stiles and I like some sort of tennis match. I had to look at Stiles, his eyes wide, his mouth hanging open, his hands wringing together so tightly that I was surprised he hadn't dislocated a finger.

I bit my lip, trying to think of something to say that would sound natural in front of our eager audience, but Stiles snapped out of his daze first.

"Aw, come on, guys! You didn't even blindfold her?! This was supposed to be a surprise!"

"Blindfold?" Lydia repeated incredulously. "Why would we blindfold her?"

"Because I told you I wanted you to blindfold her!"

"Oh my God, you were being serious? That's got to be the stupidest, tackiest thing that's ever come out of your mouth."

"Hey!"

"Trust me, it's really not."

"Wha—dude!"

"Hey, it's fine," I interrupted, meekly wandering up to Stiles's side. "I'll be just as surprised. Promise."

Stiles jumped, like he'd momentarily forgotten that he was arguing about me while I was standing right next to him. He gaped like a fish for a few seconds before clearing his throat, blinking hard, and nodding vigorously.

"Yeah…right, um…hi…"

"Hi," I echoed with a smile.

"Ha, uh…hi."

We stood there for a few seconds, grinning like idiots. My smile had gotten so big that my cheeks were starting to hurt. Stiles couldn't decide what to do with his hands. He ran them over his hair, down his face, patted his shirt, then stuffed them into his pockets as he rocked back and forth on his toes.

Allison cleared her throat. "Uh, Stiles? Inside, maybe?"

"Wha—yes! Yeah, that's—that's probably a good idea."

He spun on the spot for a moment, patting his car and then patting his pockets and patting Scott on the shoulders before finally collecting himself. He took a deep breath and offered me his arm.

"Um…Miss Bennet."

"Why thank you, Mr. Stilinski."

I smirked as I looped my arm through his, both of us ignoring the blushes that were steadily growing on our faces. My stomach tumbled a bit as he tugged me toward the building, our eager spectators trailing behind us.

"So," I began, tilting my head back to look up at the building again. "Not to be doubtful or anything, but the rink is closed, right?"

"Yup!"

"So uh…how are we getting in?"

"With our handy dandy front door keys!"

Stiles released my arm so he could pull an unfamiliar set of keys from his pocket. He jangled them proudly, then jogged the last few steps to the double doors so he could bow the rest of us into the building.

It was dark inside, and a little bit creepy. A shiver ran up my spine. I had to remind myself that this was the ice rink; it was normal for it to be cold. I was cold, not scared. Still, when the front door slammed shut behind us, I jumped forward a few inches.

"Sorry!" Stiles scampered past us, grabbing my hand and holding up a finger. "Okay, just—no, don't say anything yet!"

Again, we took the lead, venturing down an even colder, darker hallway deeper into the building. We stopped in front of a pair of blue double doors, and Stiles jerked his head to call Scott forward. Scott dutifully took the keys and hurried to unlock the doors, while Stiles turned back to me with a sheepish smile.

"Um…sorry, but since we don't have a blindfold…"

He stepped behind me, lifting his hands so he could cover my eyes. I heard Lydia grumble some snide comment about how there was no way I could possibly guess that was behind the doors, but she was quickly silenced by a hiss from Allison.

I listened to the shuffling as everyone moved around us. I heard the doors open and felt the rush of cold air from inside. Stiles gently nudged me forward, guiding me to a specific spot before he finally pulled his hands away with an enthusiastic, "Tada!"

I had to blink a couple times before my eyes adjusted. The view was just what I'd expected it to be. We were at the ice skating rink, light shining brightly overhead, walls and ice and ceiling all a startling white. There wasn't a soul in sight, only the hum of electricity and the laughter and chatter of our friends behind us as they piled into the room after me. And yet, somehow, even though I'd known exactly what was going to be there when I opened my eyes, it wasn't any less magical.

My jaw dropped into a wide grin as I looked around, taking in the space in awe, fully aware that Stiles was watching my every move with apprehension. I spun on the spot, showing him my smile, but it slipped slightly when my brain caught up with the situation.

"Wait, but how are we supposed to skate? I don't have—"

"Ahem!"

Lydia had appeared at my shoulder. She lifted her hands, one holding a pair of skates by the laces, the other offering me a pair of gloves. She dropped the items into my arms with a wink, then scampered off to the bleachers with Scott and Allison.

I turned back to Stiles, nervously picking at the laces of the skates as I tried to keep my smile from looking manic. "You really thought of everything, didn't you?"

"What, me?" He shrugged off the praise, but looked immensely pleased with himself.

"So this is what you and Lydia were talking about during lunch?"

"God, no. I wasn't gonna risk ruining the super-secret special surprise because you have really good hearing. No, I convinced Lydia to come, and then told her the rest later."

"When did you even have time to talk to Lydia?"

"Uh, well, I didn't. I uh…I talked to Scott, who talked to Allison, who talked to Lydia. It was a pretty intense game of telephone. I'm almost surprised she knew to bring you ice skates and not some nice rakes or something."

He winced, nervously scratching at the back of his neck, but smiled as I subsided into giggles again. God, I hated behind the giggly schoolgirl. But at the same time, it felt nice—to have someone who could make me laugh like that, even after the shit day I'd had. So what if I stood there giggling? I had to keep reminding myself that Stiles already knew I liked him. I didn't need to hide it. He was trying to make me laugh, so all I had to do was sit back and let it work.

"So…" he mused, rubbing his hands together. "Do you…? I mean, shall we…?"

"Yeah. Yes, absolutely."

I followed him over to the benches, just a little farther from everyone else as they sat down to lace up their skates. I let myself gaze around the rink for a few seconds before plopping down next to Stiles to do the same.

"So. Private ice skating? Think you're setting the bar a little high there, Stilinski?"

He chuckled, pausing as he pulled his own skates out and sending me a heart-melting smile. "Nah, I'm just, uh…just making up for lost time."

I felt my cheeks heating up and quickly turned to my laces. Fine, we were on a date and he knew that I liked him. But I wasn't going to make it that easy for him. He didn't need to know the full strength of the effect he had on me.

"And, uh, what about what you said about law breaking?" I asked instead.

"What? Ice skating is not a felony. At least, not the last time I checked."

"Mm, and are we allowed to be in here?"

"…technically…?"

I had to repress a snort as I finished my laces with a bow. "Yeah, that's what I thought."

"I'm sorry," he said instantly, abandoning his laces in favor of tapping anxiously on his legs. "I—I just wanted to do something really cool, you know? And I didn't think that you'd mind all that much, but—"

"Hey, I don't." I leaned down to catch his eyes as he stared into his lap. "I'm just teasing you. This? This is all just…really, incredibly sweet. You're incredibly sweet."

I clamped my mouth just a tad too late, but watching Stiles's cheeks staining pink made it worth a bit of embarrassment. I smirked, getting up to my feet and offering him my hand.

"Well, if we're destined to be delinquents forever, we might as well make the most of it, right?"

Stiles looked up at me for a moment, his wide, maple eyes darting back and forth between my face and my hand. It took him a few seconds, but his lips finally pulled back into a smile. He rushed to secure his skates, then grabbed my hand, laced our fingers together, and tugged me down the stairs so quickly, it was hard to keep my balance. I toppled into him at the bottom, making us both laugh, but we were interrupted by a groan.

"You were right, Sadie. Third wheeling sucks." Lydia was tugging on the laces of her skates almost to the point of violence. She ignored my sympathetic smile in favor of glaring at her shoes. "Those two are disgustingly cute, you two are disgustingly cute, and you know what I am? Disgustingly cold."

"Oh, well here!"

Stiles dropped my hand and dashed back to his backpack. He unearthed a bright orange hoodie and offered it to her with hopeful eyes. Lydia's only response was to scrunch up her nose. She squinted at the jacket as if she were inspecting it for tiny insects.

"I'm wearing blue."

"W-what?"

"I'm wearing blue," she repeated. "Orange and blue? Not a good combination."

"But it's the colors of the Mets," said Stiles, sounding almost affronted.

Lydia and I both fixed him with a disbelieving look, and I shook my head. "Only you."

"Hey, I—woah, um, what are you doing?"

Stiles's eyes widened as I peeled off my cardigan. I smirked as I threw it to Lydia, then snatched the orange hoodie out of his hands.

"I'm not wearing blue," I offered innocently.

"Oh, that's—yeah, cute." He snorted as I tugged the jacket on, following me over to the ice. "You know, I'm feeling a little taken advantage of. That's the second sweatshirt you've taken and this is our first date."

"I'll be sure to let you borrow mine next."

"Don't joke, Bennet. I'm prepared to take you up on that."

He winked as he stepped out onto the ice, pushing forward like it was second nature. I hesitated for another moment, looking down at the slippery surface.

"Uh, I should probably give you fair warning, I have really skated in a while. So no promises."

"Hey, you've got nothing to worry about," he assured me with a lopsided grin. "That's what I'm here for."

He skated back to the edge, taking both of my hands and easing me out onto the ice. He kept up a steady stream of encouragement as we moved around the edge of the rink, staying close to the wall in case I needed to jump ship. Stiles left our hands clasped together, even after I'd secured my balance. He made an offhand comment about keeping me between him and the wall, which he immediately regretted when I burst out laughing. It took another few circles of the room before his face returned to its normal color instead of bright red.

After skating around for a bit, Stiles tugged me into the center, twisting our repetitive circles into a sloping figure eight. We had to dodge Lydia as she twisted and turned gracefully across the ice, jumping and tossing her hair to amuse herself. Allison and Scott were frequent obstacles too, but they tended to move much less; Scott couldn't seem to manage it. The poor kid was like Bambi on ice, clawing at the wall and face-planting every few minutes. Allison tried her best to coach him, but Scott was just that hopeless, a fact that Stiles never once failed to comment on as we went gliding past them.

I'm not sure when exactly Stiles started to suspect that something was up. We kept up an easy conversation, teasing back and forth, skating back and forth across the ice, weaving around each other. It wasn't until we started racing the length of the rink that he actually said anything.

Stiles slammed into the wall just half a second after I'd reached it, ramming his shoulder into the glass while I twirled in a circle to avoid collision.

"Ahhh nice try, Stilinski! I guess third time's not always the charm."

"Laugh it up, Bennet." He panted, leaning his back on the wall and trying to catch his breath. "You're cheating."

"Shut up!" I laughed, arms folded over my chest. "Across the ice and back. I made it first. How can I be cheating?"

"You're a hustler," he accused with a smirk.

"Ha! Excuse me?"

"Textbook hustler! You expect me to believe you haven't been skating after you move like that?"

"Hey, I did not lie. I haven't been skating in a while."

"Yeah, but it was implied that 'a while' meant like, your seventh birthday party. Those were not the moves of a rusty amateur. That was—that was figure skater trying and failing to pretend she doesn't know what she's doing."

I bit my lip, trying to hide a guilty smile. Stiles gave me a pointed look, apparently expecting some kind of confession. I simply shuffled on the ice and gave a half-hearted shrug.

"So what," Stiles pressed, "I guess now you're gonna tell me that on top of all the acting and painting that you're an Olympic ice dancer too?"

"What? No! Lydia just…taught me the basics."

"Yeah, and she's a real beginner."

The statement was punctuated by Lydia zooming past us, one leg extended behind her. I rolled my eyes, taking his hand and trying to pull him back into motion, but Stiles shook me off and nodded at the open ice.

"No, no, go on. Clearly I'm holding you back. Show me what you got."

For a moment, I was afraid he really was upset with me. I bit my lip, ready to apologize, but Stiles was just grinning in anticipation. So, feeling a little more nervous than was strictly necessary, I moved out into the open.

I started out skating in a wide circle, trying to decide exactly I wanted to do. I tested a couple arabesques to get myself warmed up. By that time, Lydia had been alerted to the fact that I was trying to show off. She immediately skated over and glided around me with a pointed look.

"Scratch spin!" she sang quietly.

She grabbed my hands and spun me in a tight circle before darting away, parking herself next to the wall nearby so she could watch.

I took a deep breath, easing myself a circle before lifting my leg up and throwing myself into a turn. I brought my arms and legs in slowly, turning faster and faster as the world around me became a blur. Lydia and Allison were clapping somewhere nearby. I smirked, checking myself and gliding out of the turn before I could get too dizzy.

The expression on Stiles's face was not only extremely comical, but extremely satisfying. The cocky smirk had fallen away about a minute ago. Now he just stood there, jaw slack, staring at me in wonder. He didn't even move when I stopped spinning, just kept staring blankly, as if he hadn't quite noticed I wasn't doing anything anymore.

I bit my lip to suppress a giggle, skating over to him in his stupor. My stomach tumbled when I noticed that his eyes weren't in face locked on my face, but the end of my skirt, which in retrospect had probably been flaring out pretty impressively. I blushed, skated around him once, and coasted to a stop in front of him.

"Hey, Stiles?"

"Hm?"

"Are you on a date with me or my skirt?"

"Hm."

I waited a few seconds for a proper answer that never came. I glanced over at Lydia for instruction and then, with a burst of confidence I didn't know I had, I grabbed his hands from his sides, tugging him forward until I bumped into his chest.

Stiles jolted, clenching my hands for balance and clamping his mouth shut. His eyes shot up to mine and widened when he realized how close I was.

"Hi there," I smirked. "My face is up here."

"Yeah. Yes. I can see that. Uh—what was the question?"

"Are you on a date with me or my skirt?" I asked slowly, enunciating every syllable clearly and raising a challenging eyebrow.

Stiles opened and closed his mouth a few times before pulling his lips into a thoughtful pout. "…Both?"

I composed my face into another smirk, burying my nerves under the cloud of butterflies currently raging in my stomach. I held my ground, dropping his hands so I could place mine on his shoulders. I leaned forward, then replied in a stage whisper, "Unfortunately, I don't think my skirt's going to be nearly as receptive."

Stiles gulped, an action that both thrilled and terrified me. He mumbled something in agreement, and I didn't miss the way his eyes darted down to my mouth.

I glanced over at Lydia while he was distracted. She was beaming from the sidelines, giving me the thumbs up and waving her hands violently.

I grinned, sliding my hands down Stiles's chest and then shoving him backwards. He slid away before he could comprehend what was happening, his lips still parted and his eyes still glazed over. I giggled as he blinked himself out of his daze.

"Tag, you're it!"

And I spun on the spot, speeding away from him while he looked around in confusion.

"Aw, w-what?! Come on! That's—that's cruel and unusual punishment!"

I high-fived Lydia as I passed, then switched my gait backward so I could stick my tongue out at him. It was enough incentive to kick him into motion, and he took off after me.

That's how we occupied ourselves for the next half-hour or so: Stiles chasing after me until he could catch me, poke me in the ribs or on the nose, and then I'd skate after him to return the favor. At some point we pulled Lydia into the game, then Allison and Scott. Well, Allison anyway. Scott only ever got pity tags from Allison, considering he didn't seem to be able to skate more than a few feet away from the perimeter of the rink.

We skated until my feet were sore, but I didn't mind all that much. I was having the time of my life, and I was content to stay there all night long.

Stiles, it seemed, had other plans. He waited until after I'd tagged Lydia and darted away, then came gliding up to me to grab my arm. "Hey, you wanna take a break?"

"Hm? Oh, sure."

I followed him off the ice and back over to the bleachers, looking around curiously. I'd only ever come a few times with Lydia, but most of those were strictly on-the-ice-and-go-home kinds of visits. There were plenty of other things to do, but I'd never gotten the chance to explore. It didn't take long before something caught my eye.

I snatched Stiles's hand, hardly waiting before I sprinted out the door, coming to a stop in front of the tiny, orange photobooth that was standing in the hallway. I jumped inside with a giggle and poked my head back out of the curtain.

"Sorry. I know they're kinda cliché, but—"

"No, no! I'm game!"

He grinned, patting his pockets and pulling out a handful of coins before following me inside. We paid for the photos and I slammed my hand down on the begin button before he could say a word.

1st SHOT

"Woah, hey, hey, what?" Stiles looked frantically between me and the screen. "Y-you can't just press go! What are we doing?!"

"Uh, smile!"

I grabbed Stiles's hand and he scrambled to wrap his arm around my shoulder as the countdown bar reached the edge of the screen. We grinned just in time to be blinded by the flash.

2nd SHOT

Stiles and I both pulled obligatory silly faces. I stuck my tongue out and crossed my eyes while Stiles pulled the most strained, confused face he could manage and held his fingers behind my head as bunny ears.

3rd SHOT

"Okay, uh, your turn," Stiles offered.

"Well, we've gotta do werewolf claws."

"Werewolf—seriously? That is the lamest idea ever."

"You're the lamest idea ever," I jabbed, raising my claws and growling at him.

Stiles rolled his eyes, but lifted his hands into claws just the same. He changed his mind at the last second and clapped his hands over his face, staring at me in mock terror and letting out a high-pitched squeal. He immediately began coughing the moment the flash went off and I burst into another fit of laughter. He glared at me and poked my side, already getting up out of his seat.

"Great, well, now that we've taken that horrendously poor excuse for a picture…"

He pushed the curtain aside, ready to step back into the hallway, when I noticed the counter was still going on the screen.

4th SHOT

"No, no, no! One more! There's one more!"

"What?" Stiles turned to the screen with wide eyes waving his hands as the counter neared the end. "No! Wait! Stop! Pause! How do I—"

There wasn't time to finish the question. Without letting myself think about it, I jumped forward, grabbed a fistful of his sweatshirt to yank him back into the frame, and pressed my lips against his cheek just as the flash went off.

PRINTING…

I immediately released my grip on Stiles, retracting my arms and folding in my myself. "Sorry, I—"

"No!" Stiles's head snapped toward me with wide eyes and splotchy cheeks. "That's—that's fine. That is not a thing you need to apologize for."

We both nodded awkwardly, shifting in our seats at the machine whirred around us. There was a clatter outside, and Stiles jumped to grab the pictures from the slot. He shook his head, and his cheeks grew pinker as he stared down at the photo strip.

"Wow, great. Yeah, that's a lovely photo."

I grinned and pulled it from his hands to look for myself. My eyes flicked down to the bottom picture at once. My face was half hidden by my hair, my knuckles white on Stiles's jacket. Stiles's face was utterly blank, completely dumbstruck. There'd been just enough time for the realization to hit him, for his cheeks to flush, before the camera went off, catching his panicked eyes perfectly.

"You're right," I agreed, turning to him with a wide smile. "I love it."

Stiles glanced at me through his long lashes, the excess color ebbing from his cheeks as he managed a small grin. I bit my lip, but before either of us could say anything, there was a loud bang outside the booth.

"Move it, lovebirds!" Scott yelled, yanking the curtain away while Allison giggled at his side. "Professionals, coming through!"

Stiles and I both groaned in unison, but climbed out of the booth with playful glares. Stiles grumbled something about Scott that I couldn't quite make out, but the result of which was the werewolf shoving me into his best friend's chest. Scott and Allison laughed and ducked inside the booth before we could retaliate, leaving Stiles and I with no choice but to head back into the rink.

"Hey, Lydia, you good?" I called, sticking my head out onto the ice.

Lydia didn't bother giving a verbal response. She sped up her skating, throwing herself into a complicated jump that made both Stiles and I gape.

"Uh yeah, I'd say she's good," he offered from my shoulder. "Really good. Come on, there's something else I have to show you."

"Seriously? Just how much thought did you put into this?"

"For the sake of my pride, more than you are ever allowed to know."

I laughed and followed him back to the bleachers. He sat down next to his bag and patted the seat next to him, then began rummaging for my surprise. After a few seconds of searching, he finally pulled out a large chunk of tinfoil.

"No, but seriously, it's not that big. You uh…said I should buy you dinner first so I…well, I know this isn't really dinner, but…"

"If that's what I think it is, then it is miles better than dinner and totally still valid."

I snatched the package from him, tearing away the foil until the telltale smell reached my nose. I grabbed one of the rich, orangey fries and curled it around my finger so I could pop it into my mouth.

"They're still warm, right?" Stiles asked nervously. "I don't actually know how good tinfoil is at insulating and I know that it's cold in here—"

"Oh yeah, they're freezing," I insisted, grabbing the package and scooting away from him. "You don't want any of these. They're totally cold."

"Um, no, hey. Excuse me!" He reached around me to grab it back, but got flustered when our arms tangled up. He recoiled with the one fry he'd snagged and nervously got to his feet. "Um, right. Drinks. Be right back."

It only took him a minute or two to run to the vending machine in the lobby. Unfortunately for him, I was hungry, and it also only took a minute or two for me to make a sizable dent in the pile of curly fries. Stiles jogged back and handed me a Coke before pausing, narrowing his eyes and staring at the damage I'd already done to the food.

"Unbelievable."

He collapsed next to me on the bleacher, waving off my apology but passively tugging the container of food a little closer to himself.

Being the ravenous teenagers we were, it wasn't long before the entire container of fries was a distant memory. We pulled on our skates again, prepared for one last go on the ice before calling it a night. But before we went, Stiles pulled one more thing from his backpack.

"Dessert?"

I looked up from my laces to see him holding up a pack of Reese's Peanut Butter Cups. I nodded eagerly and raced to finish my knot so I could accept the one he offered me.

"Thank you! God, these are one hundred percent my favorite candy."

"Really? Never woulda guessed, the way you terrified that eight-year-old to get that last one when we were trick or treating." That earned him another jab in the ribs, but he laughed as he took a large bite out of the cup. "No but, I mean, I get it. Peanut butter and chocolate is a pretty good combination."

"A perfect combination," I corrected, grinning down at my own treat in satisfaction.

Stiles stared down at his candy in thought, so busy thinking he didn't seem to mind the way the chocolate was melting on his fingers.

"It's weird, though, you know?" he said quietly. "Like, who would have ever thought that chocolate and peanut butter would work out? I mean, someone says 'peanut butter,' you automatically think 'jelly,' like jelly is the only thing peanut butter would ever go with. And it's not that PB&J isn't good, but between that and a Reese's cup, I'd take peanut butter and chocolate any day. But chocolate—like chocolate could go with anything. Chocolate could go with caramel, marshmallow, strawberries, anything. Chocolate's perfect all on its own. Just…who would have guess that chocolate and peanut butter would every get together?"

I finished off the rest of my candy, biting my fingertips while I stared at him, still deep in contemplation. "Are we still talking about Reese's cups, or is there something you want to talk about?"

Stiles jumped a little, suddenly remembering that he was speaking to an audience. "What? No. Sorry, uh…I'm gonna stop talking now…"

He ducked his head, popping the rest of the chocolate into his mouth as if to destroy all evidence of his monologue. I considered him for a moment, then gently bumped his shoulder with my own.

"I'll tell you what I think," I offered softly. "I think peanut butter goes with a lot of stuff too. Peanut butter and jelly, peanut butter and chocolate, apple slices and crackers and bananas. And I like chocolate fine by itself, but I think that chocolate and peanut butter work really great together. Even though there's a lot of other candies out there, Reese's cups are my favorite candy ever. And they probably always will be."

Stiles let out a shaky breath of laughter, wiping a hand down his face. "Sorry, that—that was a really stupid…that was way too…I don't know, dramatic. That was ridiculous. I'm—"

"Hey, it's fine." I pulled him to his feet and tugged him down the bleachers, then turned and grabbed both his hands as I walked backward toward the ice. "I'll tell you what. If you want, I'll forget the whole thing, on one condition."

"Yeah?"

"Yeah," I said with a smile. "I'm chocolate. You're peanut butter."

"Oh really?" He grinned, following in my wake. "Why's that?"

"Do I really need to make a pun about you being nutty?"

He laughed, and I tried to ignore the feeling of pride that swelled in my chest.

"Okay, fine," he agreed with a smile. "I would've made you chocolate anyway."

We stood there awkwardly for a few seconds, neither really sure what to do with ourselves. Dating was new to both of us in general, but I couldn't help but feel like Stiles and I had just had an extremely strange, intimate moment. I wasn't really sure how to follow it up. My brain started flicking through responses frantically, looking for a new topic or related subject that would help the conversation progress, and before I could pass it through any sort of mental filter, the words were tumbling out of my mouth.

"Also the peanut butter goes inside the chocolate, so…"

This was followed by a beat of silence as the words processed in our brains. Contemplation turned into comprehension, awkwardness turned into absolute horror, or in Stiles's case, what appeared to be some sort of aroused shock.

"What?"

"W-what?"

"Oh my God, did—did you just—"

"No. Did I what? No."

"Sadie—"

"Just please forget I said that," I pleaded, dropping his hands and making a break for the ice. "I'll forget about the Reese's monologue, and you can forget that."

"Uh, no," Stiles said, finally recovering with a loud bark of laughter. "You couldn't pay me to forget that. Nuh-uh."

I rounded on him, ready to make any assortment of threats and bargains, but before a single sound could escape my mouth, we were interrupted by another.

An earsplitting screech echoed around the room, making Stiles and I both yelp in surprise. And it didn't die down. It continued—high and terrified—a haunting wail from a familiar source.

I leapt onto the ice, nearly wiping out in my haste to get to Lydia. She was kneeling in the middle of the rink, her nails scraping insistently at the ice in front of her. Her face was rapidly becoming red, her eyes screwed up and tears streaming down her face.

"Lydia! Lydia!"

I slid the last few feet to her side, wrapping my arms around her torso. Lydia immediately began thrashing in an attempt to escape. Her scream only got louder and higher as she fought against me.

"No! No! Ahhh!"

"Lydia?! Stiles! Help!"

Stiles was already a step ahead of me. He fell on Lydia's other side and tried to contain her flailing limbs. I heard the door burst open, no doubt Allison and Scott coming to see what was wrong, but I was too worried to bother checking.

I slid around the ice until I was facing Lydia, dodging the blades of her skates as she kicked at the ground. I grabbed her wrists and pulled them toward me insistently.

"Lydia! Lyd! Lyd! You're fine! Look! It's just me! It's Sadie, okay? It's just me!"

She continued to fight me for a few seconds, her fingers flexing as she tried to claw at the air, her eyes squeezed shut to block out the world around her. But after a few seconds of persuading, she finally pried her eyes open. They were thick with tears, but the scream finally died out. Her whole body trembled, shaking like the last fragile leaf on a tree in winter. Her lips quivered and gaped in attempts at speech, her eyes growing wide as she came back to reality. She looked between Stiles and I in shock, then down at the scratched ice in front of her, as if she'd never seen the substance before.

"Lyd…?"

Without warning, she threw herself into my arms, holding me tightly as she sobbed into my shoulder. There were words hidden among her cries, things like "petal" and "man" and "ice," but not enough to make an intelligible explanation.

I shared a worried look with Stiles, settling for patting her hair down and rubbing her back. I whispered some reassurance in her ear, and after a few minutes, her sobbing faded to silent crying, then crying to sniffling. It was a good while later that I finally pulled back, brushing her hair out of her face.

"Let's just get out of here, okay? Yeah? Do you think you can stand?"

Lydia nodded, evidently trusting her legs more than her voice. She didn't even object when Stiles laid a hand on her shoulder, helping support her to her feet. She was borderline catatonic, just like she'd been when we found her on the side of the road. She followed any instruction I gave her, nodded timidly when Scott and Allison asked if she was alright, and let us lead her out of the rink. The entire time, she never let go of my arm.

Allison and Scott said quiet goodbyes to the rest of us, and Stiles helped me load Lydia into the Jeep. The drive home was a quiet one. We sat in silence, isolated by our own thoughts as the trees flew past outside. Every now and then, Stiles would reach over to the passenger seat and put his hand on my knee, comforting me without words.

I was torn to say the least. I didn't want to ignore Lydia's problem. I didn't want her sitting in the backseat fearing everything around her, fearing herself, because she didn't know what was going on. I wanted to help her, to tell her everything that I could. At the same time, I wasn't sure how to do it. How did I explain everything that had been going on the last few months? How did I explain that, even with all that knowledge, I still couldn't explain what was happening to her? How could I put that pressure on her only to tell her that knowing didn't make any difference?

After debating for the entire ride, I decided the answer was simple: I couldn't. Not tonight, not while she was in this state. Lydia had enough to worry about without werewolves. The only good the truth would do her right now would be to tell her the real problem could be so much worse than she'd ever imagined. I wasn't going to do that to her without a better explanation.

By the time we reached the house, Lydia had raised her guard again. She jumped out of the Jeep with less assistance than she'd needed getting in, grabbed our bags from the back, and marched up the driveway faster than should have been possible in her heels. She didn't say a word, but the fierce look she gave me from the doorway was very clear.

"If you do not give him a proper goodnight, I am going to beat you."

I actually grinned as she slammed the door in my face. She wasn't perfect—she was damaged and had no idea how to deal with what she was going through—but she was still Lydia.

"I'm sorry that I uh…colossally messed this up," Stiles sighed, digging his heel into the ground as he stared at his shoes.

I traded my grin for a thoroughly confused frown. "You didn't."

"Didn't? I—I turned our date into a five person outing and we're—we're not exactly ending it on the best terms."

"I told you not to worry about Scott and Allison. It's honestly fine. You were inviting Lydia because you wanted to make me happy, and as for everything else…well, what's happening to Lydia isn't anyone's fault."

"Still. I…kind of feel awful about it."

"Well…then I guess…you'll just have to make it up to me next time."

Stiles eyes snapped up from his shoes. "N-next time…?"

"Yeah," I said with a nervous shrug. "I mean—I mean, only if you want to, but—"

"No! Yes! I mean…next time. Yeah, that's…good…"

We stared at each other for a few seconds, each of us fidgeting. I tugged on the cuffs of the borrowed, orange sweatshirt, then remembered it was Stiles's and quickly stopped. Stiles was absently flicking through the keys on his key ring, even though we weren't standing in front of his house.

"So," he said. "Thank you. For coming out tonight. With me."

"Thank you for asking."

He was shuffling forward a bit and I became hyperaware of the distance between us. Every inch he moved forward felt like a mile, and my heart felt like it was trying to force its way out of my ribcage.

"So, I guess I'll see you tomorrow," he continued. "At school."

"At school," I agreed with a nod.

My resolve failed. I found my eyes dropping to his lips, which were practically quivering as breath after shaky breath washed over them. He was steeling himself, building up the courage. Every second found him closer. His amber eyes darted over my face, down to my lips and back up again. And he shuffled. A foot and a half away now. Shuffled. A foot. Shuffled. A few inches…

"I'm pretty sure I told you I don't kiss guys on the first date."

Stiles froze in place, just a handful of inches from my face. He was so close that I could almost feel the panic that flashed over his face.

"Oh. Um, y-yeah. Yes, no, uh—you did say that. I'll just—"

He stepped back, already making a quick escape for the porch steps when I grabbed his wrist. I pulled him back with some difficulty, returning him to his position in front of me with a guilty smile.

"Buuut, I guess I can make an exception…"

Stiles's panic faded, and he looked confused for a moment before he caught on. He pursed his lips, infuriated, glaring down at me but never moving away.

"That was mean, Bennet. Are you—seriously?"

"I know. I know, I'm sorry," I apologized, leaning forward only for him to pull his head a little farther back.

"That was ruthless. I mean, I'm scared out of my mind right now, and you pull something like that? That's cold-blooded. You are a terrible, terrible person, Sadie Bennet."

"Shut up and kiss me, Stilinski."

I grabbed the back of his neck, pulling his face to mine and meeting little resistance. Despite his feigned protests, Stiles's hands quickly found my waist, tugging me closer as his head tilted to accommodate mine. And for those few, brief seconds, everything in the world seemed to stop. I wasn't worried about Derek or Isaac or Erica or Gerard. I wasn't even worried about my best friend, who was probably spying on us from the other side of the door. All that mattered was that I was kissing Stiles, and after a long time waiting, it felt good.

No one was there to interrupt us this time. We pulled away after a minute, both struggling to catch our breath as we stared at each other. We both left our hands where they were, both wore stupid little smiles. We were both reluctant to let go, desperate to hang onto our blissful moment of normality as long as we could before reality came back to bite us.

But we couldn't spend the whole night on the front porch. Stiles loosened his grip on my waist, and my hands fell from his neck to his shoulders, then slowly down to my sides.

"Right," he said softly, clearing his throat as he stepped back toward the stairs. "So…goodnight."

"Yeah…goodnight."

I waited with my back against the door as Stiles walked back to the Jeep, climbing into the front seat and giving me a wave. I waved back and watched as the car revved to life, the rolled away into the night.

I spent a couple more seconds outside by myself, my back pressed against the door and my front pressed against the cool night air. I let my tongue run over my lips, closing my eyes as I relieved the all too recent memory of his lips on mine. And then I shook my head. He'd been out of my sight for less than a minute. I had to get a grip on myself before all this cheesy, lighthearted romantic stuff got to my head and made me the kind of person that was nauseating to be around.

I took a deep breath and wiped my hands down my face, but instead of clearing my head, it just seemed to make everything more cluttered. I was overwhelmed by the smell of curly fries and cologne, and I looked down to discover that I was still wearing Stiles's sweatshirt. I let the sleeves fall down over my hands and pressed them against my face.

Well. Just another one to add to the collection.

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A/N: Okay, I KNOW it's late, but this one is extra long to make up for it! This was actually two chapters in the original, but I decided this worked better. I'm sorry it took me a month to update. Mondays have become impossible for me, so my new goals is that Right Beside You will now update on Wednesdays. Hopefully that will work better with my new schedule, and I'll try my best! Thank you all for your patience, and I hope this lived up to memories and expectations!