Mom and Natalie were still home when I made it back to the house. The car was packed with their bags for the lake house, but I could hear them arguing in the backyard the moment I stepped out of the car. I peeked around back to find them yelling across the pool, my mother teetering on top of a ladder.

"Natalie! Just get over here and hold it!"

"You just told me to come over here, Claire. If I drop the lights, you're going to get electrocuted."

"They're not even plugged in! You're going to get electrocuted as soon as I get down from here!"

"Stop being a child. Sadie, will you please help your mother?"

I held in my snort as I grabbed the ladder, steadying it so Mom wouldn't kill herself trying to hook up the lights. "Welcome to my world. Do you want me to get it?"

"No," she grunted, standing on her tiptoes and yanking on the wires. "I am perfectly capable of hanging up the lights when the ladder doesn't feel like it's going to collapse beneath me."

"Now you're just being dramatic," Natalie called from the other side of the yard.

"Honestly, why don't you just keep these up all year? We're outside enough."

"Because I don't want them up if there's a storm or something. It's a safety hazard."

Mom mimicked her under her breath, scrunching up her nose as she climbed down to the safety of the ground.

"Do you want some help with these?" I asked, after kissing her on the cheek. "I know they can be a pain to get up."

"No, that's okay. I'll probably manage without dying. Why don't you see if you can get through to Lydia?"

"What?" I asked quickly. "What happened?"

"Nothing more unusual than…well, usual," Natalie sighed as she joined us on our side of the pool. She wiped her hands, avoiding our gazes with an air of exasperation. "My daughter has been in the kitchen preparing for her party since she got home. Neither of us are allowed in, and she isn't coming out."

"Is she okay?"

"She says she's making punch. Why that needs to be a top secret operation, I can't imagine. It's not like we don't know you children drink."

"Well, is it better if you don't know how much we drink?"

"No," they answered in unison.

They both looked at me with a hard, stern expression, and I crumbled.

"Right…well, good luck with the lights. I'm gonna go help Lydia."

I escaped into the house, doing a sweep of breakable objects as I went. Property insurance had been my role for most of the parties Lydia had thrown, but our mothers seemed to have taken care of that already. Most of Natalie's nice vases and glass knickknacks had disappeared, some even replaced by paper decorations, sparking numbers and tissue paper pompoms in white, blue, and purple. The house was clean and festive, and for the first time in weeks, I let myself feel excited about the party. Maybe Stiles was right. Maybe normal was all we needed.

"What are you doing?"

I jumped back from the hall to the kitchen, which was suddenly blocked by Lydia. She was already dressed in her first outfit for the night, a grey, striped dress with a low-cut neckline. It was the third or fourth outfit I'd seen her wearing so far; she was truly on a roll. And judging by her scowl, she was also angry. She glared at me as I laughed off my surprise.

"Uh, helping? Mom said you were making punch, but they weren't allowed in the kitchen."

"No, I said 'no one' is allowed in the kitchen. Not just them. Everyone. That means you."

"Why not?"

"Because this is my party and this is my project and I don't want you ruining it."

"I thought this was our party."

Lydia continued to glower at me, thoroughly unamused. I tried again.

"Lyd, it's just punch, maybe some finger foods. How hard can it be? People are gonna be here soon."

"Exactly! Look how much we still have to do! You're not even dressed, and we have to do balloons and table settings and music! Here, you take these to the table by the porch doors, and please try to set up the fountain. Actually, don't try, just do. Okay? Okay. Thank you!"

Lydia pushed a box into my hands with some tablecloths, then shooed me back from the kitchen and disappeared inside. I stared down at my hands and the expensive, wedding-quality punch fountain she'd saddled me with. Determined, I marched forward again, only to have Lydia jump out at me.

"Oh! And there are a bunch of stemless wine glasses I bought at the store on the dining room table. If you could set those up around the fountain, that'd be great. Thank you!"

This time, she didn't settle for pushing me out of the kitchen. Lydia pushed me right out onto the back porch and nearly shoved me into the table she'd set up for drinks. With a manic smile, she disappeared back into the house, leaving me with our mothers.

"So that went well," Mom observed. She held up her hands when I glowered at her.

The fountain was ridiculously hard to assemble. The directions read like radio instructions, and there seemed to be about a mile of tubing that I had to untangle from the box. At some point, I reached my limit, plugged two different ends into what I hoped were the correct holes, and hoped it would work. Even if it didn't, it was Lydia's damn fountain. She could fix it herself.

When the doorbell rang, I felt like I had been arranging glasses for so long that my eyes had permanently crossed. My back snapped and cracked along my spine as I jumped upright and sped for the door, desperate for a distraction.

"I got it!"

"Sadie! You're not even dressed yet!" Lydia materialized in front of me, shoving me behind the door with a look on her face that suggested murder. "Don't move. Honestly, the party doesn't start for another hour and forty-three minutes. Who on earth is this unfashionably early?"

She glowered at the figure on the other side of the front door. After a composing pause, she pulled it open, and the smile was back in her voice.

"Hi! Welcome to—oh. Scott. Hello."

"Scott?"

I peeked around the corner to find him hovering on the doorstep, hands clasped behind his back. Lydia tsked at me and tried to shove me back, but I disregarded her orders. It was only Scott, after all. He wouldn't judge me for not being primped two hours before the party.

"What are you doing here?" I asked, opening the door a little wider.

"I thought you guys could use some help," he said with a sweet smile.

Lydia's arm slammed across the entryway, barring him from entry. "We have everything under control, thank you."

"Oh, uh…okay?"

"Lydia, stop it." I pushed past her, pulling Scott into the house and shutting the door behind him. "I've been looking at punch glasses for an eternity, and I haven't even started on the balloons. Besides, if Scott helps out, our moms can get out of here sooner."

"Think of it as a birthday gift," Scott offered. "I tried to sneak out a bottle of wine, but uh…my mom busted me. Least I could do is help out."

It was a couple of seconds before Lydia's resolve finally broke. Her lips stayed puckered, but at least her eyes seemed a little less murderous.

"Fine. Scott, you can go help Claire with the balloons. Sadie, you can help me load the punch into the fountain and set hors d'oeuvres. No, on second thought, just do the hors d'oeuvres and go upstairs. You're going to need all the time you can to get fixed up."

She turned on her heel and was gone before I could ask what was supposedly wrong with me. I scoffed, pinching my nose between my fingers.

"Tough night?" Scott asked, sidling up to my side.

"You have no idea," I said with a bitter smile. "She's making it really hard to deal with my compulsive need to keep an eye on her. I'm terrified something's wrong, but on the other hand, she's driving me up the wall."

Scott laughed and patted me on the shoulder. "Hey, just try to breathe. I'm here for now, so you can chill out, take a break. It's half your party, right?"

"I guess."

"Well, you should probably take these anyway." He pulled his other hand out from behind his back, jiggling a purple gift bag in my face. "Happy Birthday!"

"Oh…Scott, you didn't need to…I didn't want—"

"Yeah, Stiles said that you didn't want anything, but it's from me and my mom. Don't worry, it's not much."

I shook my head, trying to make my smile look stronger than it felt. I took the bag from Scott and stuck a hand inside to feel out the two plastic cases hidden in the tissue paper.

"Mom helped me out with the computer game," Scott explained as I fished it out. "I was trying to find some sort of puzzle game, but then she found out you can play Call of Duty on a laptop. She thought you might wanna practice so you can keep Stiles and me in line on videogame night."

"Damn right, I do." I laughed, flipping it over a couple of times so I could admire the case. "This is great. Thanks, Scott, I…what's this?"

The second case was smaller, no impressive graphics or information on it. It was just a clear case with a plain, silver CD inside. Written in Sharpie were the words: "Sadie's Jams."

"It's just a couple of songs that sorta remind me of you," Scott admitted, sheepishly rubbing at the back of his neck. "I wanted to do something a little more personal than a computer game, but I couldn't really think of anything. It's just a couple, but…"

"Scott, I love it."

My smile grew of its own accord this time, not fake or forced. Scott grinned too, even though he was still too embarrassed to meet my eye for long. I pulled him into a hug and finally felt myself relax. Things were always so crazy in Beacon hills; sometimes it was easy to forget how much better friends could make it. I needed Scott just like I needed Stiles. He was always so warm. And as he hugged me back, I wondered what I'd ever done to deserve a friend like Scott McCall.

"We should probably get to work," Scott said as he pulled away. "I don't want to stress Lydia out any more than she already is."

"I guess. She's probably just gonna remake all the hors d'oeuvres platters when I'm done with them anyway. You've probably got the harder job."

"Come on, Sadie. I think I can handle blowing up a couple balloons. It's not that complicated."

I snorted, thinking of the diagrams Lydia had printed out for the multi-colored balloon columns she had insisted on building from scratch. She'd run around the backyard with measuring tape, figuring out exactly where they needed to be placed and how tall they'd be and how many balloons she needed in total. Mom had nearly cried when Lydia tried explaining it to her.

"You're right, Scott. I'm sure you'll have everything under control."

It took Scott, Mom, Natalie, and Lydia a full hour and a half to get all of the balloon columns assembled. I would have helped out, but Lydia banished me from the first floor at nine o'clock, screeching about how she couldn't believe I wasn't dressed yet. She'd already taken the liberty of choosing the three dresses I was getting for my birthday, since I'd taken so long getting back from Derek's. They were laid out on my bed, matching accessories spread out on top, three new pairs of shoes lined up underneath them. It was a wonder Lydia had gotten any sleep at all the past week.

I slipped into the first dress she'd laid out for me: grey and black to match hers, with a lace window around my stomach. It was nice, and on most days, I would have been in love with it. Today, I just stood in front of the mirror, staring at myself. I hated how much my motivation had been wavering lately. There were times I couldn't stop moving, and there were times when walking across the room felt like it took too much energy. It should have been second nature to get ready at this point—pin up my hair, apply my makeup, put on my shoes—but everything felt complicated lately.

A knock on the door jolted me out of my daze, and my mom let herself into my room.

"Aren't you ready? Lydia's going to go postal if you're not downstairs soon."

"I'm moving. It's…fine."

"Sweetheart, it's five to ten now."

"…Oh."

It should have sent me into a frenzy, knowing the party was starting in five minutes, but I still couldn't move.

Mom walked up behind me, wrapping her arms around my stomach and resting her chin on my shoulder. "What's wrong, sweetheart? I thought you wanted to do this?"

"I did. I do want to do this. In my head. It's just like…like my body's too tired to cooperate."

"Did you sleep okay?"

"Yeah. It's…it's not that kind of tired."

I felt her sigh against my skin, and she pressed her forehead into the back of my neck. "I know. I'm sorry. I wish I could make this easier for you. For both of us."

"It's not your fault."

"It's not yours either." She stepped back, turning me around to face her steel gaze. She cupped my cheek with one hand and tried to smile. "I know how hard this is, and I understand that you want to be there for Lydia. I'm just trying to be here for you, too. If the party is too much, you don't have to do it."

"Yeah, I do." I pressed my face into her hand, trying to borrow some of her strength. "Lydia's already going bonkers as it is. And Scott's here, and Allison's coming, and Stiles—"

"Will probably have a hard time controlling himself when you're dressed like that." I scrunched up my face, and both of us laughed. "I'm not scolding you! I'm just voicing motherly concern. He's a guy, just like all the other guys, and when I was your age—"

"Mom!"

"Alright! I'm sorry. Just be careful. I'm only a phone call away if you need me."

"I know."

I smiled, and Mom leaned forward to kiss my forehead. "I'd ask you to walk me out, but if Lydia sees you're not ready, she might kill you, and I'd like it if you could make it to your birthday. So promise me, promise me, promise me that you will call if anything happens. I mean it."

"I promise, promise, promise I will call you if anything happens. I mean it."

"Don't be sassy." She jabbed a finger at my stomach and I jumped back, squealing. "I love you, sweetie. Try to have fun."

"I will. Love you, too."

Mom kissed my cheek again and then walked back into the hall, closing the door behind her. I sighed heavily. I shook out my limbs, enjoying the tug on my muscles as they jolted back and forth. It was time to shake off my funk. It was Lydia's birthday, and it was time for her party. If she wanted to get back to normal, we would get her back to normal. In the meantime, that meant keeping a close eye on her, and on Jackson, and…everyone else.

I popped Scott's CD into my stereo, fiddling with the volume so I could still hear the movement downstairs. As the first song started, I nearly choked on my laugh. "She Wolf" by Shakira.

"Scott McCall, you absolute dork."

I grinned as Shakira sang about lycanthropy, but the mix did the trick. I bopped my way over to my vanity and hurried to get ready for the party, before Lydia could come upstairs to skin me alive.

It's not exactly fashionable to show up to a party exactly on time. Still, when I finally made it downstairs at ten-twenty, I expected some people to be there. The house was just as quiet as it had been when I left, if not quieter. There was no Lydia shouting orders, no mothers arguing over what color balloons went best together. Instead there was just the quiet hum of the music from the backyard, the water sloshing around in the pool.

I crept nervously onto the back porch, relieved to find that there were some people there. Scott was picking at the plates of food I'd put out, and there were two kids I didn't know swinging their legs in the water…but that was it. No raging keg party. Just about nothing.

"There you are!" Lydia hopped up to my side, all smiles. "God, I definitely made the right choice with that dress. You look killer."

"Ha, thanks. My mom had her reservations."

"Psh, Mom Shwom. I love it, and so will Stiles." She winked and pushed a glass into my hand, filled to the brim with pink punch. "Drink up. We didn't get to pre-game, so you have to catch up."

I didn't bother arguing. I rolled my eyes and took a gulp from the cup, smacking my lips. "Wow, that's…that's actually really good, Lyd. I can't even taste the alcohol in here. What is this?"

"This is my masterpiece," she sang, tossing her hair over her shoulder. "I've been working on it all day, so you're gonna chug that and take a second one."

"Lydia…"

"No arguing! And then I need you to check on Allison for me."

"Allison's here?"

Lydia pointed across the pool to the couches set up in the corner. Allison was tucked in the corner, gripping her punch with both hands and staring forlornly across at the snack table. I glanced between her and Scott for a minute, each of them stealing glances when the other looked away. I knew they weren't supposed to be seen together in public, but I had a feeling it was the secrets keeping them apart more than fear for Scott's life.

"She's been like that for fifteen minutes," Lydia complained. "I've got to host this party, so I do not have time to babysit. Just go over there and force her to have a good time. Throw her in the pool if you have to. No one is allowed to be frowning."

"I'll talk to her," I agreed. I'm not sure how much Lydia actually cared, though, since she was insistently pushing my glass up to my mouth. "Okay, okay! I'm drinking!"

"Good. I'll let you know when Stiles is here. Shoo."

Lydia shoved me off the porch in Allison's direction, only pausing to push another glass of punch into my hands. Then she skipped back into the house without looking back.

Allison was too deep in her thoughts to notice when I walked up. I plopped down on the couch next to her, making her jump. She hurriedly gulped down some of her punch as if it that would make her look busy.

"Uh, hey! Sadie. Hi."

"Hey. Whatcha looking at?"

"Hm? Looking—nothing. Just, you know…staring at space."

"Right. Well, I think you and 'space' need to talk about all the shit that's been going on so there can be less space between you."

"Wow. Thank you. That was really clever."

"Thank you. I came up with that on the fly. Talk to him."

Allison groaned, looking back at the snack table as Scott hurriedly looked away. "Do we have to do this today? Give me a break."

"You can have a break when I get a break from all the secrets. I hate secrets."

"Sadie, our friends are werewolves. We're gonna be keeping secrets for the rest of our lives."

"All the more reason to get rid of the other secrets then!"

Allison narrowed her eyes at me, sipping her punch without comment. I relented.

"Okay, I'm sorry. I just don't think that not talking to each other is gonna solve anything. We've all got stuff on our plates, whatever we tell each other, but we work better when we all understand what we're going through. I just wish we'd all communicate. I want you guys to be happy."

"I know," she said quietly. "That's why you're my best friend."

I smiled. Then I made a show of chugging the rest of the punch in my first glass and setting it aside so I could hold her hand.

Allison snorted. "You are such a dork."

"I know. I'm sure you are too, when you're not being so perfect and composed. And Scott definitely is. You know he made me a mix CD for my birthday? I think it's at least fifty percent werewolf jokes."

"Sounds like him," she laughed. "Wow, a playlist. You must feel pretty special."

"Well, I am the almost birthday girl."

"I know!" She smiled slyly, bumping her shoulder into mine. "How are you liking your birthday gift?"

"I love them. I have no idea where you got them, but I love them."

"It did take a considerable amount of sneaking. I didn't want Dad asking about them, but I figured they'd come in handy one of these days."

"You're probably right. I haven't gotten to use them yet, but…I don't know. I'm kind of excited to—awful as that may sound."

"I don't think it sounds awful at all," she assured me, but she still looked uncertain. "You're not nervous? I almost didn't give them to you, because I didn't want to upset you, but—but then I wanted to because I trust you, and given everything that's happened—"

"No, no! They're good, really. Thank you."

"You're welcome." She beamed and knocked her punch glass into mine. "So are you gonna teach Stiles a thing or two?"

"Maaaybe," I sang, and she burst into giggles.

"Gross," Lydia's voice broke in. "If you two are talking about Sadie's sex life, A, you should not be doing it in public, and B, you should have waited for me."

"Oh my God, no!" I laughed as Allison almost lost it next to me. "No, we weren't—we're not talking about sex. Allison's been helping me with some self-defense stuff, cause of all the stuff that's been going on. Not…not that…"

"Well, you could totally teach him a thing or two in that department too," Allison goaded. She just managed to dodge the elbow I sent toward her ribs.

"Stop being children," said Lydia, rolling her eyes. "It's not that big of a deal."

"Maybe to you it's not, but it is to me," I whined. "Please change the subject. What's up?"

"Your boyfriend is here," she replied flatly, "and he's already being an idiot. Please go retrieve him."

"Oh, uh…okay? Where is he?"

"Stuck in the front door."

Allison, who had just gotten herself under control, began snickering again.

"Okay, that's enough from you," I grumbled, shoving her a little as I stood up. Lydia blocked my path to the house, giving my second punch glass a pointed look. I pursed my lips and chugged the rest of it. "Happy?"

"Ecstatic. Don't forget to get Stiles a glass when you come back. If you two go missing for more than five minutes upstairs, I'm coming up there to drag you both back."

I ducked my head, hoping my cheeks weren't too red as I marched back to the house.

Stiles had managed to dislodge himself from the door by the time I made it to the front hall. He was lying sprawled on the floor, groaning. I'd been a little confused about how he'd gotten stuck in the first place, but the giant, yellow and pink box lying next to him was all the answer I needed.

I smirked, crossing my arms as he rubbed at his nose. "You good?"

His head snapped up and he immediately scrambled to his feet, kicking the box a few times in the process. "Yes! I'm—I'm good. Great. Uh, hi."

"Hi."

He smiled at me for a moment, then hurriedly pushed the present upright. "Happy Birthday! Uh…almost."

"So, when I said I didn't want anything, not only did you hear 'buy me something anyway,' but 'get me a present so big it doesn't fit through the door'?"

"Not exactly. But I found it and I thought of you, so I bought it anyway. Can I have some help getting it upstairs? Falling through the door is one thing, but I really don't want to fall down the stairs."

"Oh, I suppose…"

He picked up the gift, spinning it in his arms so I could take the wide end of the box. I blinked at him.

"Hey, genius, did it occur to you to turn it sideways?"

"Side-what?"

I took the box from him, rotating it so the thinnest side was facing up the stairs, no longer in danger of knocking everything off the walls. Stiles stared at the box in awe, as if I'd transformed it in front of his eyes.

"…Huh…"

"Yeah. Idiot."

I laughed as I started walking backward up the stairs, dragging the gift with me as he pushed up on the other side.

"You know," he said conversationally, "calling me an idiot isn't really an effective insult anymore. Cause you're just gonna say 'you're an idiot,' and then I'm just gonna say 'yeah, but I'm your idiot,' and then you're gonna say 'I know and I love you anyway.' So it really just boils down to you confessing your undying love to me."

"Nope. I was just gonna leave it at 'idiot.'"

"Spoil sport."

It took a little more work to get the gist to my room, but between the two of us, we managed without doing too much damage. The paper on the box had already been ripped from the front door, and I could see the scratched cardboard beneath.

"Well, go ahead," Stiles urged. "I kinda got the paper started for you. You're welcome."

"My hero," I giggled as I shredded the rest of the paper.

The top of the box was simply folded in, and it was easy enough to pull the lids apart. I was met with a face full of fur as something soft sprang from the box. I stumbled back and toppled over, and for one panicked moment, feared that Stiles had actually gotten me a puppy. Thankfully, that wasn't the case.

As it turned out, the only reason anything had sprung out at me was because the something was far too big for the box. The stuffed bear was probably twice the size of the package, his fur messed up and flattened in odd places from being squished down for so long. With a smile on his face and a stuffed heart sewn between his hands, he looked happy to be free.

Stiles was laughing next to me as I sat stunned on the floor, staring up at the stuffed animal.

"Oh God, you—you should have seen your face! Oh man, I should have recorded that. He just went 'pop!' and you just felt back! Ha!"

"So you decided to give me a heart attack for my birthday? Thanks, Stiles."

"No, no! I'm sorry. I'm sorry, I—well, I thought it would go with the one I got from the hospital. I know it's kind of big…"

"Gigantic?"

"Yeah." His laughter died away, and I looked up to see that his smile was already faltering. "Um…sorry. If you don't like it, I can take it back. I just thought it was—"

"Stiles, stop." I pushed myself to my feet and grabbed his hands. "I love him, and I love you. It's just uh…not what I was expecting."

"What were you expecting?"

"I don't know. Something smaller, for sure, but…I love him. Thank you."

I wrapped my arms around Stiles's neck, pulling him closer so I could kiss him. He hummed into my mouth and the familiarity of it made me smile. His hands skimmed over the lace at my waist and pulled me against him. I let my tongue flick against his bottom lip, and he groaned before pulling back.

"Okay, I don't want to stop this, but the bear isn't the only thing I got you."

I pulled back from him in confusion. "It's not…?"

"No."

He spun me around, pushing me back toward the box that already came up to my thighs. I looked back at him, but Stiles just waved at the box again. Curiously, I heaved the teddy bear out, placing him to the side and patting him on the head. I peeked back under the cardboard flaps and pulled out the smooth, wooden box that had been sitting on the bottom. I threw Stiles another cautious look before undoing the two small latches and lifting the lid.

It was an art box. Not like the one I'd had as a kid, with pencils and markers and crayons. This was a proper, professional artist kit. There were about fifty colored pencils, and four different paintbrushes underneath with varying bristle types. The other side had assorted pastels, and paint in more shades than I could name off the top of my head. I couldn't believe how it all fit. I couldn't imagine how much it would've cost. I couldn't begin to think of what to say to thank him.

All I managed to say was, "The paint's open."

Stiles winced, wringing his hands and avoiding my eyes.

"Okay, so the original plan was to give you the bear, the kit, and a painting, but the painting was just not happening right, so I had to scrap that idea. I promise I didn't use that much. And if I did, I'll get you more. Sorry."

I closed the kit, putting it down next to the bear and walking back to him. "You were gonna paint me something for my birthday?"

"I was gonna try, but you saw that abstract monstrosity I have in my room. I realized pretty quick that I should leave the painting to you and I'll just…keep my untalented hands to myself."

"Well, I definitely don't want you to do that." I wrapped my arms around him again, more confident than before as my nose brushed against his. "I know I call you an idiot, and I tease you all the time, but you are absolutely the best person I know. I don't know what to say besides 'thank you,' but I don't feel like that really gets everything across. You didn't have to do this."

"Yeah, I did," he said simply. "Because I love you."

He rubbed a thumb down my cheek, his other arm snaking around my waist. I grinned and my lips brushed against his.

"I love you, too…"

Before I could say or do anything more than that, there was a vicious banging on my bedroom door.

"Break it up! Five minutes! Back downstairs, now!"

"Seriously?!" I groaned, glaring at the door as Lydia marched back down the hall. "You know, all the times she ditched the party to go have sex with her boyfriend, I should be allowed more than five minutes with mine."

Stiles chuckled, kissing the tip of my nose. "Okay, not that I'm not a huge fan of that idea, but you should probably make an appearance at your own birthday party. Once it gets going, we can probably sneak away again."

"Promise?"

"Are you seriously asking me if I promise to make out with you?"

I laughed, letting him pull me toward the door. "You're right. Stupid question."

"Oh! We also had a breakthrough on the kanima killings," Stiles informed me, wrapping an arm around my waist as we headed down the stairs. "I was going through old yearbooks again with my dad, and it turns out that all of Jackson's victims? They were on the 2006 swim team. And Isaac's dad was the coach."

"What? That…seems…oddly specific."

"Yeah, but it might tie into why the kanima can't go in the water, right? Water, swimming. If Jackson's fine with the water, then that's gotta be the master's hang up."

"Okay, but how does that help us find them? And why go after the 2006 swim team just because you're afraid of the water? Why not kill the current swim team? Or literally anyone who goes to the beach?"

"I don't know," he admitted. "It's gotta have something to do with the murder thing. Then again, I'm just about ready to give up on things making sense ever again. It's like one step forward, two steps back."

"You did good," I insisted, squeezing his hand. "We'll figure it out."

"Yeah, that's not the only thing we've got to figure out. What are we gonna do with Romeo and Juliet?"

Stiles and I stopped on the back porch, looking over a backyard that was even emptier than it had been before. Allison was still sitting on the couch. Scott was still standing by the food. Everyone else was gone.

"I don't know," I sighed. "I tried talking to Allison, but she just keeps pushing it off."

"I'm not having much better luck with Scott. Sometimes, I swear, he enjoys being miserable."

"Okay, well, we can't let them go on like this. I'll work on Ally, you work on Scott?"

"Deal."

I kissed his cheek, passing him a punch glass before he could walk away. "And drink up, otherwise Lydia will come over there and force it down your throat."

He gave me a small salute, taking a sip before he jogged over to the forlorn puppy at the snack table. I grabbed two more glasses, heading back over to Allison and pushing one into her hands.

"Can you believe that she actually came upstairs to break us up? Unbelievable."

Allison grinned, finishing off her previous drink. "I'm actually not that surprised. Doesn't look like there's a lot to be hosting down here."

"Yeah," I sighed as I looked around the empty yard. "Didn't really think that one through. Guess no one wants to come party with the reclusive new kid and the girl who was running naked in the woods for two days."

"Maybe it's just early?"

"Ten thirty is 'fashionably late.' Ten forty is 'not coming.'"

"I'm sorry," Allison said with a grimace. "I know this is supposed to be your party too."

"Hey, I don't care. I've got all the friends I want to see right here. I'm just worried about Lydia. She keeps talking about how this is supposed to be…I don't know. 'Her rebirth.' Whatever's going on, I believe her when she says she wants to get back to normal."

"Is there anything we can do?"

I bit my lip for a moment, biding my time before sighing, "Maybe."

"What is it?" she asked, looking so earnest that I almost felt bad. "Sadie, I want to help. All of us do."

"Well, I'm gonna call Danny, but…maybe you could talk to Scott?"

She instantly deflated, pursing her lips in annoyance. "Sadie—"

"I'm not saying that you need to talk to him about everything, but you can't just sit on opposite sides of this party all night. Just see if you can talk him into inviting a few more people. Even if you two are fighting, he'll listen to you. If you won't talk to him for yourself, at least do it for Lydia."

"I will talk to him for myself," she said defiantly. "…eventually…"

"When?"

"After he talks to me first! You didn't see him at the rave, Sadie. He was pissed, and I was just trying to help. I tried apologizing, but I don't think that will fix things this time."

"Allison, he is not still mad about that," I promised. An image of Allison's mother standing over Scott's prone figure flashed before my eyes, but I pushed it away. "I know you guys are really unsure about yourselves right now, but this is bigger than one fight. This is about all of us. Besides, it's the twenty-first century. Girls can be brave and make the first move."

"I'm fine making the first move. I'm just sick of feeling like I'm making the first move all the time."

I opened my mouth to argue, then closed it. She had a point.

"Look," Allison sighed, shaking her head, "I'll talk to Scott for Lydia, and for you, but please don't ask me to tell him anything else. We're keeping an eye on Jackson tonight. I don't want to distract him by making him worry about anything else."

"Okay. Thank you."

Allison looked across the pool at the boys, who had just wandered back out of the house. She clenched her jaw for a moment, then downed the punch I'd brought her. With her head held high, she marched over to them, hiding her fears under each step of her heels.

I turned my back on my friends, pulling out my phone and quickly dialing Danny's number. It rang through to voicemail, so I hung up and tried again. I could just picture him sitting in his room, staring at my name on the caller ID and debating whether or not he should pick up, but I was determined to annoy him into it. On the fifth call, I finally got through.

"Sadie, I can't come."

"Why? Because you don't want to be seen around us anymore? Because you don't care?"

"Don't be like that, Sadie," he said, as thought he'd practiced it a few times before his phone rang. "Jackson's my best friend. Things get complicated after break ups. Of course I still care, but that doesn't mean I can come over."

"Lydia asked Jackson to come."

"…What?"

"She asked him to come, and as far as she told me, he said that he would. So this isn't about you betraying your best friend. This is about trying to make your other friends feel less alone."

"Sadie, I can't…"

"Danny, no one is here. Literally. It's me, Scott, Stiles, and Allison, and that's it. I'm begging you, just stop by for a little. You don't even have to be a supplier! Lydia's pumping everyone full of punch anyway. I just wanna see you for a little bit."

I heard him sigh on the other end of the line, and held my breath.

"Fine. I'll see what I can do."

"Thank you! Thank you, thank you, thank you, thank you!"

"Whatever. This is your birthday present, Sadie. I'm keeping that bottle of tequila for myself."

"And I will live with that. Just get your butt over here. And bring friends! Or a date! Or many dates!"

"I'm hanging up now."

I grinned as the line went dead, shoving my hands in the air and spinning around directly into Lydia.

"Watch it!" she huffed, trying not to spill the tray of punch she was holding. "Why are you so happy?"

"Uh, nothing," I recovered poorly. "I just called Danny to make sure he was coming."

"Of course he's coming. Everyone's coming."

"Um…right."

"Everyone is just…late…" Lydia's face screwed up for a moment, and I could see the effort it took her to iron it out again. I gave her a supportive smile, but as soon as she saw it, the façade crumbled again. She pursed her lips and took a shuddering breath. "Why is everyone late?"

"I don't know, Lyd."

"Everyone has to come. I have to…everyone is supposed to come."

"Lydia, they'll come," I said with as much conviction as I could muster. "You are Lydia fucking Martin, and it is your birthday, and we're going to have an awesome fucking party. I promise."

Lydia stared at the ground, nodding a couple times before she tilted her head back to look at the sky. She tucked her lips in, the way I usually did when I was trying not to cry. Then she passed me another glass of punch. I didn't bother protesting. This time, I drank it as fast as I could.

She smiled at me and put the tray down for a moment. She hugged me fiercely, hiding her face in my shoulder.

"Thank you. I know that you're not really up for this, but I really appreciate your help."

"Lydia, of course I'm up for this. You're my best friend."

"Ha, just try and remember that, okay? The night's only just getting started."

She patted my cheek and passed me another glass of punch, clearing away the empty cups and walking away before I could ask what she meant.

I wasn't sure how much alcohol Lydia had put in the punch, so I couldn't be sure how long it would take me to get tipsy. I might have been imagining it, but after another ten minutes of talking to Allison, I could feel my brain beginning to buzz. I carefully pieced my way upstairs to go to the bathroom, then allowed myself a minute to sit alone in my bedroom. I wasn't usually a lightweight, and I couldn't afford to get smashed when we were supposed to be keeping an eye on Jackson. I turned on a fan and focused on breathing for a little bit, until I could feel the flush in my skin dying down.

I heard the doorbell ring downstairs, which coaxed me out of my hiding place again. I'd assumed it would be Danny, grumpy and reluctant, but here to drink for a few minutes at least. When I got downstairs, though, I realized that the person at the door had not been Danny. It hadn't even been one person. The house was suddenly flooded with people, and someone had turned the music up in the backyard. I stared around in bewilderment; I knew I was new, but I was fairly certain I didn't know any of the people who were suddenly in our house.

I picked Lydia out of the crowd, cornering her by the punch fountain.

"Lydia! Who are all these people?"

"I don't know!" she replied, smiling without a care in the world.

"And you're…okay with this?"

"Absolutely! The more the merrier." She pushed a glass of punch into my hand and shooed me away from the table toward the pool. "I have never been more in my element. Go! Drink! Mingle! Have fun!"

I wanted to turn back to her, but a tide of newcomers washed me out onto the lawn, and I lost sight of Lydia completely.

"Sadie!" Another arm snatched me out of nowhere, and I spun around to face Allison. She grabbed my shoulders as I teetered on my heels, watching me in concern. "How much have you had to drink?"

"Not that much. It's the pumps, trust me. I just came out of sober time-out."

Allison shot a look at my feet, clad in the four inch black heels Lydia had laid out for me. She raised an eyebrow. "Cause you're not tall enough as it is?"

"Hey, they're cute. Being tall doesn't mean I can't wear cute shoes."

"Just don't hurt yourself," she said with a small grin. "So, uh…who exactly did you call? I don't know any of these people. Not that that's a surprise."

"Me? I just called Danny, and seeing as I do not see him, I doubt all these people are his friends. Who did the boys call?"

"Scott said he'd call the lacrosse team, and Stiles…I don't know. He said something about some people he met at a club."

"A club?" I snorted. "Since when does…? Oh. Oh my God."

I looked around the yard again, finally spotting two familiar faces. The two drag queens from the club were standing in a corner, sniffing Lydia's punch with less than enthusiastic faces. They grinned and waved when they spotted me, obviously recognizing me as the girl who'd left her boyfriend in the dust at The Jungle. I tried to keep from laughing as I waved back at them. Stiles had actually kept their phone numbers.

Allison cleared her throat, looking more than confused, but amused. "Friends of yours?"

"Don't ask."

"Ah."

She nodded, and I watched as she shot a furtive look over my shoulder. I glanced behind me to see Scott and Stiles on the other side of the pool, talking and not-so-subtly watching us. I grabbed Allison's arm and pulled her away from the pool.

"You know what? Ask away. I am taking you away from the boys. If Scott wants to talk to you, he can get off his ass and come get you."

"What?" Allison blinked in surprise as I dragged her around the yard. "What happened to making the first move?"

"Nope. You were right. Why should being a strong woman mean we always have to make the first move. Screw making the first move, and screw being the bigger person. Here is to being strong and still getting swept off our feet."

"Um, okay?"

I grabbed two glasses of punch from the table and pushed one into her hands. I clinked my glass against hers, linked our arms together, and downed the entirety of my drink. I wouldn't let her go until she'd finished the punch, even though she was spluttering with laughter by the end. I giggled.

"See? There's a smile. I knew you could do it."

"So you're a crazy party girl now?" she asked, giggling as I grabbed us two more drinks.

"If that's what you need me to be. And right now, you need to stop thinking and have some fun. So yes, I will be a crazy party girl if it means making you happy."

"You're…doing it for you too, right?"

"Hm?"

"It's just, you need to stop thinking sometimes too. Lydia, Jackson, Derek…it's stressful on all of us. You don't have to pretend you don't have your own things you're working through."

Allison was watching me carefully amidst the chaos. She was still smiling, but there was a sheen of concern on her eyes. I didn't want to see it there, maybe because I didn't want her to be taking care of me when I was trying to take care of her. So I pretended I couldn't see it at all.

"Come on," I said, grabbing her hand. "I want to go meet the lovely ladies Stiles invited after they groped him at a gay bar."

As far as diversions go, it was a pretty good one. Talking to Phoenix and Alissah bought us a good half an hour of laughs and distractions. We went through several more glasses of Lydia's punch while the two older women plied me for details about Stiles, and I talked about how lucky I was to be dating him, and everyone talked about how stressful dating was in general. For a while, I really did feel like I was having fun. The stress of reality was buried under the buzz of the alcohol, right up until everything was jostled by one, big, ugly road bump.

"Allison?"

Everyone in our group turned around to face the newcomer, and my stomach soured. Matt was standing a couple of feet away, not sparing anyone else a glance, and not looking nearly as sheepish or frightened as he should have, considering Allison had just found out that he was stalking her. I was surprised I didn't start snarling and snapping on the spot.

"Could I talk to you for a second?" he asked, giving her his best attempt at a charming smile.

"I'm sorry, who invited you, Matt?"

His jaw clenched as he looked at me, his smile turning acidic. "Lydia Martin's birthday party? It's the biggest party of the year. I thought everyone was invited."

"Well, it's also my party, and I've gotta say, I'm not wild about you being here."

"Sadie," Allison sighed, but I cut her off.
"No, Ally. Don't. Do not go with him."

She looked at me for a moment, then back at Matt. He was smart enough to switch gears back to the pleading puppy dog look. He wasn't as good at it as Scott was, but his eyebrows inched up his forehead in a hopeful imitation.

"Just five minutes. Please."

"…Fine."

"Allison!"

"Sadie, I can take care of myself," she promised, turning back to me. She lowered her voice, but it didn't lessen her resolve. "I just want answers. And there are people everywhere. If he tries anything, I can take him out. You know that."

I chewed the inside of my cheek, glaring at him over her shoulder. Allison could take care of herself, obviously, but that didn't mean she had to go walking into unsafe situations—such as, hanging out with her stalker. I didn't know what answers she was hoping to get from him anyway. What defense could he give that would make her feel better about the fact that he'd been taking pictures of her from the bushes for the last few months?

"I'll tell Scott," Allison bargained, grabbing my hand. "We'll talk to him together, I promise. But I've got to do this."

I huffed. This was beyond stupid, but if it meant one less secret…

"You." I brandished a finger at Matt. "If she's not back here in five minutes, I'm coming upstairs and castrating you."

Matt didn't bother looking anything but smug as he shrugged his shoulders. He stepped back and let Allison take the lead, then did what he did best, and followed her into the house.

"Ooh, I did not like the look of that boy," Alissah said from behind me.

I let out a cold bark of laughter and took a bitter sip of my punch. "You don't know the half of it. He's a grade-A creep and I want to squash him like the bug he is. You know? You know I almost hope he doesn't come out in five minutes! I want an excuse to castrate him!"

"Okay, you need to breathe, babe," Phoenix cut in, waving a hand at me. "Ooh, and you better turn that frown around. Somebody's man candy is coming this way."

A pair of hands grabbed my hips before I had to ask, and Stiles pulled me back against his chest. "Hey everybody! How's it going over here? Having fun?"

"Loads, cutie," Phoenix said with a smile. "You know, for a young crowd, this scene isn't bad."

"And you have got a firecracker on your hands with this one," Alissah added, pointing a long, delicate nail at me.

Stiles's laugh rumbled in my ear. "Trust me, I know that. Is it alright if I steal her back for a couple minutes?"

Phoenix held up both hands. "Say no more. It's like we were never here. Use protection, kids."

They scurried out of the corner, leaving us with over-exaggerated winks and smirks wider than the Cheshire Cat.

I spun around in Stiles's grip, pouting. "You came about thirty seconds too late."

"Why? What happened?"

"Matt happened. Allison was ever so kind enough to agree to talk to him instead of immediately turning him into a human pretzel."

"You've gotta be kidding me," he groaned. He leaned his forehead against mine, sighing against my lips. "This whole thing is a joke."

"Can we just go upstairs and beat the crap out of him? Please? I really wanna beat the crap out of him."

Stiles sniggered. "Look, babe, I know it sucks, but you've gotta let Allison make her own decisions. She's smart enough not to leave with him, and she's strong enough to take him out if she has to. There's no one else I'd trust more to pummel that creep. Except you, of course."

"Nice save."

I grinned in spite of myself, enjoying the way his palms felt on my back as he smoothed his hands over the lace of my dress. I'd been so angry, so worried, but now I could hardly remember why. The music was becoming a blur, and my eyes drooped closed.

"You know," I mumbled. "I'm pretty sure you made me a promise earlier."

"Did I?"

"Mhm…" I gently pushed him back until he was pressed against the wall, my nails catching on the fabric of his olive green shirt. "I think I'd like to collect now."

His lips caught mine in a kiss without complaint.

It wasn't until I was kissing him that I really felt how much I must have had to drink. I could feel my body tingling, half from the alcohol, half from the natural high I got from being close to Stiles. My kisses weren't as neat or controlled as they normally were. There wasn't much technique or thought at all, but somehow, that made it better. For once, neither of us was worried about thinking. All that mattered was staying in contact, staying close, getting closer.

One of Stiles's knees worked its way between my legs, and then I was pressing myself against his hips. My nails grazed the moles alongside his face, and in turn, Stiles slid his hands up my spine. He toyed with the zipper on the back of my dress for a moment, and we both stopped still.

I opened my eyes, staring into his amber ones and not daring to breathe. Stiles licked his lips, but he was close enough that I briefly felt his tongue brush mine. His chest bumped into mine as he took a deep breath, then cleared his throat.

"Um…do you want to go…?"

"Can we break this up? My eyes are burning."

I essentially fell off Stiles in surprise as Lydia appeared at my side. I squeaked, trying to regain my footing without grabbing Stiles for balance. He was still leaning dazedly against the wall of the house. Lydia looked unimpressed.

"I realize that you've been a little busy, but in case you haven't noticed, we've moved out of the host-dress portion of the evening. I can't believe you haven't changed yet."

She'd already swapped outfits for the fifth time that day, and was now wearing a short blue dress that made her hair pop. I grimaced at the idea of fighting with a pair of pantyhose when I was this drunk.

"Is this really necessary?"

"Of course it is," she snapped. She pushed her tray of drinks into Stiles's hands, then pointedly lowered it so it would conceal his crotch. Then she grabbed one of the glasses with a wink. "Okay, so you take this, and I'll take this, and now I'll take her! Chop-chop, people. You can dry hump on the porch after you've changed."

"Lydia!"

"What?" She was already dragging me into the house, sending a careless look over her shoulder. "It's not like people didn't see what you were doing. Me vocalizing it doesn't change the fact that you were publicly grinding on your boyfriend."

"I—we were not—it was not that bad."

"Yes, it was. I'd be proud of you if I wasn't so skeeved out. My protégé is finally growing up."

"Shut up," I giggled as I stumbled my way up the stairs after her.

Lydia smiled benevolently, opening the door to my room and helping me inside. She paused at the sight of the giant teddy bear. Confusion crossed her face, then revulsion, and then it was straight back to business.

"Okay, so the dark purple one is next. I know it looks a little plain, but with the bracelets and the jeweled heels, it's gonna look great. Oh, and the collar is higher on this one, so you might want to swap the dog tags onto a longer chain, okay? Good."

She had swept out the door again before she got a chance to see my thumbs up.

I kicked my heels across the room and rolled my ankles a few times. My toes stretched and buried into the carpet, enjoying their few minutes of freedom before I had to shove them back into a different pair of shoes. I dropped the black dress and shed my jewelry and tights. The room felt inexplicably hot for some reason. I blew on my arms childishly, spinning around in my underwear for a minute or two to give myself a chance to cool down. I could only hope I wasn't nearly as drunk as I was acting.

Once I'd giggled myself out, I changed into my second dress and headed back to the vanity to fix my makeup. I took Lydia's advice and slipped off my dad's dog tags. There were a few spare chains I kept on my dresser so I could wear them at different lengths, depending on what I was wearing every day. I took one of the longer chains and threaded it through the loop, letting the tags rest just above my bust. I flipped the thin pieces of metal between my fingers and looked at myself in the mirror. The party was taking a toll on me, but I was proud of myself for holding it together. It really felt like everyone was having a good time. I even felt like I was having a good time. Maybe the party would turn out to be the break everyone needed after all. Maybe normal wasn't that far off.

"You look beautiful, pumpkin."

I froze. It took me a few seconds to find his face in the mirror, and a few more before I could force my body to turn around. But there he was, standing right next to the discarded cardboard box from Stiles's gift. Black button down, black pants, his hair coifed up in the front the way Mom and I had always teased him for. My lungs felt like they were stuck to the insides of my ribs, unable to move, to breathe. Somehow, I still managed to get the word out.

"Dad?"

He nodded, his lips twitching up into the ghost of a smile. Just a ghost.

"But you're not…are you…?"

Dad didn't answer with words. He just held out his arms, and like magic, I could move again. I sprinted across the room, propelling myself into him and meeting solid muscle. He rocked back when we collided, and I could feel him laughing as I grabbed at him—his shirt, his shoulders, his face, every part of him as real as the next and last. He was as real as I remembered him, and he was hugging me back the way I never thought I'd feel again.

"God, you've gotten so big! It's only been a year. How the hell've you grown so much?"

I tried to apologize, but I couldn't find the words. Tears were slipping over my lips, making it hard to form any kind of consonants. Dad just hugged me and kissed the top of my head.

"Aw, sweetheart, you don't have to cry. It's okay. I'm here. I've got you."

"I—I m-miss you."

"I know, baby. I miss you too. But you know what?" He gently took my chin, forcing me to look up at him. "You've done good. I mean it. Look around! You still got your mom, you've got your friends. You've got this big…bear thing from a guy that loves you."

"I wish you were here."

"Yeah. I wish I was here too. That's why I came. To find out why."

"W-what?"

I blinked. He was still smiling down at me, but he'd dropped his arms. He took a step forward and on some unknown instinct, I took a step back.

"Why, Sadie? If you want me here so badly, why didn't you do anything?"

"I—I don't know—what are you talking about?"

"Sadie, don't be like that," he said, chuckling softly. "I just want to know. Why'd you let me die?"

"No." The word barely came out, invisible between the gasps of air I was forcing into my chest. "Dad, no. Don't say—I didn't! No! Daddy, I didn't!"

"Sadie, it's already done." He was yelling at me over my heavy breathing, but he never lost that smile. "Baby, I'm already gone. I can't come back. Don't you think I want to? I wanted to watch you grow up, to be with your mother. But I can't. Because I'm dead."

"Daddy, I—I'm sorry!"

"Sorry? Sadie, sorry doesn't matter now. If you were sorry, why did you let me die?"

"I didn't!"

"Aw, yes you did, baby girl. You good as killed me, just like you killed your friend."

"I—I didn't kill Scott. I didn't kill anybody!"

"Aw, come on, Sadie. Don't you remember?"

I stumbled back, tripping over my discarded heels and falling into someone else. My body didn't freeze this time. I recoiled like I'd been burned, my skin recognizing the flesh before my eyes even had to look. Her hands grabbed me, pulled me up against her, and she laughed in my ear.

"No! Kate, no!"

"Aw, come on, Princess, it's gonna be fun!" She wrapped her arms around me, waving the gun in my face. "Just like old times, right?"

I screamed, thrashing back and forth as she forced the gun into my hand, forced my fingers to close around it. Kate was laughing, but my dad…he wasn't smiling anymore. He looked cautious, his hands help up in surrender as he watched the situation unfold.

"This doesn't need to happen like this. Everyone just calm down."

His voice was calm, but I could hear it wavering. He was scared. He was terrified, and Kate was pointing the gun right at him.

"Come on, babe, don't you want to show him what I taught you?"

"Dad, run! Go! Please!"

"Everything's going to be alright."

"One in the leg," Kate sang, "one in the shoulder…"

"Please don't do this!" I could see the tears in my dad's eyes. He held his hands up in front of him, trembling with every word. "I have a family, just like you. You do not need to do this."

"Daddy, no! Kate, stop! Go away!"

"Aw, that's cute," she tutted. "This isn't some little voice in your head. This is the real world."

"No. No, it's not." I forced myself to swallow, tried to even out my breathing. "You. Aren't. Real."

"No? Well, how about this?"

The gun went off. I watched as Dad fell to his knees, gripping his leg. The gun went off again, and I could see the tear in his shirt, see the blood as it seeped out and spattered onto the carpet. I could feel the pull in my throat as I screamed, repeatedly, incessantly, but all I could hear was the gun in my hands.

Bang! Bang! Bang! Bang! Bang! Bang! Bang! Bang! Bang! Bang!

"Sadie!"

"No! Stop it! Stop it, please! Kate, stop!"

"Sadie, calm down! It's me! Sadie, it's just me!"

"Daddy, I'm—I'm so sorry! I didn't—I didn't mean to! I didn't! Dad!"

I thrashed as I was pulled against someone's chest, but the arms were too thick to be Kate's. Warm fingers pushed my hair out of my face, ran over my cheeks.

"Sadie, you're okay. It's not real. Whatever it was, it wasn't real."

Tears caught in my throat, and I threw myself forward into a coughing fit. Someone was rubbing my back, hugging me close. As the world around me came back into focus, I realized I had fallen on the floor in my room. The carpet was clean, no gun or blood in sight. No Kate. No Dad.

I clutched at my aching chest, finally looking up at Scott. "What…?"

"I heard you screaming." His face was sweaty, his cheeks flushed. "I'm, uh…sorry about your door. It was locked."

I peered over his shoulder at the door, which had cracked and shattered on the lock side. My head wobbled back and forth. I hadn't done that. If Kate and Dad hadn't been real, the only other person who could have was…

"Where's Lydia?" I choked out.

Scott shook his head. "I don't know, but I think she did something. I saw something too, when I was on the stairs."

"No, no, no…"

I shook my head. My brain didn't want to focus. Everything was mixing up. Kate laughing, the music blasting outside, Lydia and Peter, my dad's body on the ground…

"The punch."

"What?" Scott asked. I pulled on his sleeve and he helped me up to my feet. His hands stayed firmly on my waist as I wobbled. "What about the punch?"

"She's been working on it all day, and no one was allowed in the kitchen. It's the only drink at the party. She must've spiked it."

"With what? Why?"

"For Peter!"

"Peter?" Scott was squinting at me in confusion. "What's this got to do with Peter?"

"It's why she's been acting so weird," I tried to explain, spinning in circles as I looked for my phone. I was still crying, which was making it hard to locate anything. "She's been dreaming about him for weeks, hallucinating. It has to be because he bit her. I have to talk to Deaton. God, why couldn't he have just told me something? I knew something like this was gonna happen!"

"Okay—uh, just—just call Deaton," said Scott, running a hand through his sweaty hair. "And Derek. I'm gonna try to find Stiles and Allison."

"Wait! Scott!"

He stopped hallway out of the room, looking back at me in a panic. "What?"

I rushed him, wrapping my arms around his shoulders and burying my face in his jacket. He hugged me again, one hand stroking my hair.

"Thank you," I mumbled into his shoulder, and felt him nod into mine.

"Of course." He stepped back and gave me a weak grin. "Drink some water. I'll be right back."

Scott ran a thumb through the tears on my cheek, and then dashed out into the hallway—back into the madness Lydia had left in her wake.