"SURPRISE!"

Stiles beamed as he stood on the front step, Sadie standing bewildered in the doorway. He'd been prepared for her shock, followed immediately by a frown of displeasure. She eyed the bouquet in his hands suspiciously, but Stiles liked buying her flowers. Even if it meant she thought he was up to something.

"Roses," she observed with a skeptical hum. "Should I be worried?"

"I did not do anything," he assured her with confidence. "Actually, you did."

"…I did?"

"Mhm. A year ago today."

Sadie frowned again, this time in confusion. Her eyes flicked back and forth rapidly as she sorted through memories, trying to remember, inspecting the roses as if he might have written the answer on them for her. She looked so adorably puzzled, Stiles almost kissed her, but he restrained himself. He had a script to stick to. There was a plan.

"Okay," Sadie sighed, giving in. "I'm not sure if you hit your head or I did, but I know we have not been dating for a year. We haven't even been dating six months."

"I know," he chuckled. "It's not that anniversary—though at some point we should probably sit down and figure out when the hell our anniversary even is."

"I always thought it was the full moon," she said with a shrug. "That night they tried to kill Isaac. I kissed you, you asked me out. I mean, that was when we finally got our shit together."

"February 18th."

His answer was so immediate, it made her raise an eyebrow. He could tell she was trying not to smile, but he could see the change in her face as she bit down on the inside of her cheek.

"I already looked it up," he said with pride. "I kinda figured that's what you were gonna say, but I wanted to check. I mean, there was the first time you kissed me, the full moon, our first date, our second date, since that was when we agreed on the whole boyfriend-girlfriend thing. It really did take us a while to get our shit together."

"Well, maybe we'll just have a lot of anniversaries."

She smirked, grabbing him by the wrist and tugging him forward. Stiles hurriedly moved the roses so they wouldn't be crushed between them, and hummed as Sadie pulled him into a kiss. God, he loved kissing Sadie. He leaned into her, but ended up tripping on the door jam and pulling back with a squawk. She laughed at him, but it had brought him back to the present. Script. Plan.

"Okay, okay, okay, hold on." He forced himself to take a step back from her so he would be able to think clearly. "You're right, today isn't that kind of anniversary, but…it is the one year anniversary of the first time you ever spoke to me."

Sadie frowned at him. "Shouldn't that be in September?"

"Nope!"

Grinning, he pushed the roses into her hands and pulled her outside. He positioned her on the bottom step, gestured for her to stay, then ran off to the front edge of the yard.

"Okay, so! I'm driving along, heading back from the auto shop, minding my own business, and—it's a beautiful day outside. You know, it's sunny, it's hot, but there's a breeze. Perfect! So I decide to take the long way home, you know, drive around for a little while, and I end up cruising through the neighborhood around Lydia's house—"

"So decidedly not minding your own business."

"Shush. I end up cruising through the neighborhood around Lydia's house, and I see Jackson's Porsche driving down the street. And on the one hand I'm like, 'Ugh, Jackson.' On the other hand, I'm like, 'Well, if Jackson's here, then Lydia's probably here.' So uh...purely by happenstance, I end up following the car back to the house, and he pulls into the driveway, so I slow down."

Stiles stepped off the curb into the street and held up his hands like he was driving the Jeep. Sadie was rolling her eyes again, and he gestured wildly to regain her focus. Script. Plan.

"So Jackson gets out of the car, and I'm immediately disgusted because he's not wearing a shirt, and he's got those douchey sunglasses he always had on. And he's helping Lydia out of the backseat in her little sundress, and Danny climbs out of the passenger side, and then—then you step out. And I guess you guys were coming back from the beach or something, cause Danny's got a towel around his shoulders and Lydia's complaining about sunscreen and you're still in your bathing suit with these denim shorts. And even then, I remember thinking like, 'Damn. Now who is that?'"

Sadie snorted and quickly ducked her head. Again, she was trying not to smile, but he'd specially trained his eyes to pick up on her blush, even from this distance. Still, he pretended to be annoyed and waited until she'd composed herself. When she waved her hand, he continued.

"As I was saying, you guys get out of the car and you're all heading up to the house, and you make it halfway up the stairs before you stop and come running back because you forgot your book in the backseat. So Jackson unlocks the Porsche and shouts for you to hurry up while the rest of them go inside, and you duck back into the car so you can reach into the backseat. I'm still trying to drive really slowly, and…okay, so I'm not proud of this part, but maybe I'm checking you out. They were really nice shorts. So nice, in fact, that I forget that I'm driving, veer off the road, and crash into the curb."

For dramatic effect, Stiles jumped up onto the curb, making several squealing and thumping sound effects. Sadie had doubled over laughing, but he pressed on.

"I have one wheel up on the lawn and I—I'm mortified. This is the worst thing that has ever happened to me in my life. I don't know who you are, but I know you're friends with Lydia, and I know that you're gonna tell her about the freaking weirdo who crashed his car in front of the house because he was being a skeeve and was looking at your ass instead of the road. So I scramble to put the Jeep in reverse, and I'm jumping up and down trying to get off the curb again, trying to make a quick escape, but it's too late. You're already backing out of the Porsche and you can see me and you start walking over and I'm panicking—"

He waved Sadie down to the curb for the demonstration. She obediently hopped off the steps and crossed the lawn to join him. She tucked the roses behind her back, holding her other hand up to her face in mock surprise. He glared playfully, but moved on.

"I'm panicking, because you're super pretty and I'm being a huge loser, and I just know you're gonna yell at me—but instead you get to the car and you look at me and you ask, 'Hey, are you okay?' And I'm like, 'Yeah! Yeah! I'm fine! Please don't look at me! Ha ha, I wanna die!' And because Roscoe is a dick he chooses that moment roll off the curb, so I fall and almost hit my head, and at this point I'm positive you're about to reach through the window and punch me because—like I could not more obviously be creeping around. And I…I don't know if it's because you are the sweetest, most forgiving person on the planet, or if you're just so nice that it didn't even occur to you what I was doing, but…you just smiled at me."

She was smiling now too, in almost exactly the same way. It wasn't her dazzling grin, not the thousand-watt smile that had stopped him in his tracks on the first day of school. It was just more than a smirk, one that told him that she knew exactly how nervous he was, exactly how dorky and weird he was being, but that she didn't mind. He had to clear his throat before he could go on.

"Uh…and then Jackson came back out, and he was all like, 'Sadie, hurry up! You suck!' and you turned around and flipped him off which—honestly, I could've fallen in love with you right then, but—you turned back and you gave me this awkward little wave. You told me that you thought the Jeep was super cool, and then…you went inside. And I went home and spent several hours on the computer, scouring Lydia's Facebook until I figured out who you were."

"Well, I knew you were a stalker, but that's dedication, even for you."

Stiles glowered at her again, but it didn't stop her. She stepped up onto the curb, hovering an inch or two above him as she wrapped her arms around his shoulders. Stiles snaked his arms around her waist, holding her against him and staring up into her big, chocolate brown eyes. They didn't kiss, just stood there for a moment, together. Stiles wanted to savor the feeling: the summer breeze, the warm sunshine, the roses hanging down against his back, everything that was Sadie. It was insane how far they'd come.

"Did this actually happen a year ago?" she asked softly. "Or are you just saying that to be romantic?"

"Sadie, I swear to God it was today," he replied. "I have the mechanic receipt if you want proof."

"You did not save a receipt just because I was bent over a car."

"No, of course not. I saved it because I'm a financially responsible person. It's not like I scribbled a heart on the back and wrote 'saw a hot girl today.' You weren't that important."

In a flash, Sadie brought her knee up in retaliation. Stiles flinched in terror, but she was only faking him out. She giggled madly, and Stiles tightened his grip around her waist so he could haul her off the curb, spinning them in a circle as he finally pulled her into a kiss.

They were still at it when he placed her back on the ground, both of them swaying on the spot as they fought to keep their balance. Sadie's hand ran up the back of his neck, moving to rake her nails through his hair in a way that made him make a, frankly, pathetic sound. She pulled back with a proud smile of her own, eyeing his hairline.

"You know, your hair's getting kind of long."

"Ugh, I know," he groaned, sagging on the spot. "I gotta go get it buzzed again."

"No!"

This time, it was Stiles raising his eyebrows at Sadie's quick answer. She flushed, chewing on her bottom lip.

"Sorry, I mean—obviously it's your choice. You can do whatever you want with it, but…I don't know. I kinda like it."

"You do?" he asked doubtfully.

"Yeah, I do."

She smirked again, pulling him into another kiss slightly more heated than the first. Her nails continued to scratch along his scalp, right up to the front where his hair was longest. She closed her fingers on the fringe and gave a gentle tug. Stiles's legs nearly buckled right there on the street.

"M'okay," he muttered against her lips, biting back a groan. "Message received. No haircut. There will be no haircut. Not now, not ever."

Sadie snorted and, despite his protest, pulled back from him.

"Hey," she said, with a mischievous twinkle in her eye. "Do you think you could remember which bathing suit I was wearing last year?"

"Uh, yes. Vividly."

"Do you wanna go for a swim?"

"S-swim? Now? In the pool?"

"Yes, Stiles, in the pool."

"Uh—well, I don't have my suit."

She smiled a very dangerous smile and pulled his face back to hers. Stiles returned the kiss enthusiastically and this time, when she tugged on his hair, he wasn't able to swallow his groan.

"Mm—mhm—kay, I will literally swim in my boxers if I have to."

"Ha, how about the basketball shorts from your gym bag?"

"Fine, I guess that works too."

Stiles collected his things from the back of the Jeep and ran to catch up with Sadie. He trailed after her into the kitchen, where she was rummaging in the cabinets for a vase. Stiles leaned his elbows on the counter and watched her with a fond smile.

"You know, you should probably just keep a pair of swim trunks in the Jeep this summer," she offered over her shoulder. "I wanna make the most of the pool while we can."

"Sadie, it's California. I promise, we can still use the pool in the fall."

"I know that, dork. I just mean I'm not always gonna have a pool."

"What?" He squinted at her in confusion. "Is it…going somewhere?"

"No, but Mom's still talking about moving, and I—"

"W-what?! No!"

"No, no, no," she assured him quickly, nearly dropping the vase in her haste to turn around. "Not like moving moving, just like, moving out. She doesn't want to live in someone else's house forever."

Stiles sagged against the counter, one hand clutching his chest. She'd nearly given him a heart attack. Sadie couldn't leave. They couldn't lose anyone else.

It had been a weird start to the summer, for more than one reason. Last summer, Stiles had spent the entire season with Scott, who was pretty much his only friend. This year he had Sadie, even Lydia when they dragged her along. Stiles had grudgingly accepted that Isaac would be sitting in on video game night from time to time. He had more friends now than he'd had last year, but at the same time, it felt like something was missing.

Stiles had never done well with change—change was scary, and he had enough scary shit in his life—but over the course of the school year, he'd gotten used to a certain vision of the summer ahead. It was supposed to include a lot of double dates—him and Sadie with Scott and Allison. Even triple dates; he'd been prepared to spend time with Lydia and Jackson. It had taken a lot of mental preparation to get himself to that point, and after all that work, Allison and Jackson had flown overseas, possibly never to return.

It wasn't just that Stiles missed them—no, he couldn't even pretend he missed Jackson. Allison he missed, but never Jackson. The real problem was that his friends missed them. Scott was doing his best, but he was dragging himself through every day, knowing he might never see Allison again. Sadie missed her almost as much, even though she was still working through her feelings after the big showdown with the Argents. Lydia was probably the only one who missed Jackson, but Sadie was so empathetic that Lydia being sad about it made Sadie sad too. Plus, Erica and Boyd were still missing, which meant Isaac and Derek were sad, which made Sadie even more sad—everyone was just too sad. It was supposed to be an awesome summer where everyone made the most of every moment. Nothing bad was allowed to happen.

Suffice to say, if Sadie and her mom tried leaving Beacon Hills, Stiles was going to go postal.

"Why do you have to go anywhere?" asked Stiles, his voice still laden with bitterness. "It's not like the Martins don't have space for you. You all have your own bedrooms and your mom's got an office. What more do you need?"

"It's not that," Sadie sighed, shaking her head. "They've got the space, but Mom wants…space. Something that's ours. We both love living with Natalie and Lydia, but spending every day with your friends can put a strain on things, no matter how much you love them."

"Not true. I see you every day and I love you more each time."

Sadie smirked, flicking him with water from the sink. "It won't be for a few weeks anyway. Mom only just started apartment hunting."

"But having you here is so convenient," Stiles whined. "It's a short drive, we're right by school so I can pick you up—"

"I won't need you to pick me up," she reminded him. "I have a car now, remember?"

Stiles grumbled folding his arms on the counter. He did remember, but he wasn't happy about it.

"I can't believe he just gave you the Camaro. I hate that guy."

"So you've said, a hundred times, but having the Camaro means I can take myself places. I'll be closer to work, closer to town. I could even pick you up if you wanted."

"Uh, no thank you."

"Why not?" she asked, affronted.

"One, because I love Roscoe and I don't want him to get jealous. Two, because you drive like a maniac and dating you is easier if I'm alive."

"Ha! This coming from the guy who drove through a wall a few weeks ago."

"Hey, that was a life or death situation, and we got life, okay? You're welcome."

Sadie shook her head at him and dropped the roses into the vase. She positioned them on the counter, turning a few blossoms so they sat more comfortably in the water, then walked around to his side. She leaned next to him and grabbed one of his hands to play with his fingers.

"Just think about how easy date night will be," she suggested. "When you insist on picking me up, we'll already be halfway to town. The movie theater, the bowling alley, restaurants, Toby's…"

"That's not fair," he huffed. "You can't manipulate me with Toby's."

"It'll be milkshakes and curly fries all the time," she sang, leaning closer and closer to his face until he broke.

"Fine. Fine, I will permit you to move out of Lydia's house, but only if your apartment building is within walking distance of Toby's. I want the address before you sign a lease."

"I'll let Mom know." Sadie grinned, stealing a kiss before pulling him out of the kitchen. "Come on, Curly Fry. Let's see if we can find that bathing suit."

A/N: What's this?! New content for The Wild Side in the year of our lord 2024?! Legitimately can't believe we've gotten to the point where I can share fresh content with you. Thank you ALL so much for coming on this ride with me, whether it's the first time around or not. I've got at least a few more fresh chapters in the writing fridge for you, so there's more to come. Thank you for everything.