Josie would rather die than admit she spent more time than usual getting ready that morning before school. Of course, it wasn't about school. It was more about what was happening afterward.
It was too embarrassing to admit to anyone exactly how worried she was about her study session with Stiles. Even though she was the sole survivor of 'The Summerville Massacre,' the idea of going to a cute boy's house tied Josie's stomach into knots. She'd literally died once-and that was starting to seem preferable.
"I don't see why you have to study with him." Lydia complained. She threw herself backward onto Allison's bed with a huff. "If you wanted help, you should've just asked me."
"You're usually too busy sucking face with Jackson." Josie launched herself onto the bed next to Lydia. The other girl let out a small shriek as she was thrown upwards from the force. As she landed, half of her strawberry blonde curls fell onto Josie's face in a tangled mess.
As Josie tried to paw the hair away, Allison let out a loud laugh. From what Josie could make out between the light strands of hair, Allison decided to take a break from staring intently into her closet to laugh at her friends.
Josie pushed into Lydia's stomach for leverage to sit herself up, eyes widening at the gasping giggle that came out of Lydia's mouth. Sharing a look with Allison, Josie experimentally poked at Lydia's side. As soon as her hand made contact, Lydia broke into more breathless laughter.
Pushing herself onto her knees, Josie grinned at Allison. She wiggled a hand near Lydia's stomach threateningly as she asked, "Are you ticklish?"
Slapping Josie's hand away, Lydia scrambled to her feet. "No, I was doing that for fun." She rolled her eyes and began straightening the rumpled button-down under her cropped sweater. "Obviously , I'm ticklish."
As Josie's grin widened, Lydia pointed one finger threateningly at her. "Don't even think about it, Tantama."
Before Josie could give in to the urge to chase Lydia around Allison's room like a toddler, the brunette sighed loudly from her place near the closet. "I literally can't find anything."
Resolving to torment Lydia later, Josie joined Allison, peering into the mess of her closet. Lydia wasn't far behind, shooting Josie a suspicious look as she placed herself on the other side of Allison.
After a boring day at school, which was only made longer by Josie's impending study session and her friends' date, the three girls decided to meet at Allison's to help her pick out an outfit. Lydia declared that she didn't need any help in the wardrobe department, and Josie's studying was with a completely non-potential boyfriend, so Allison took priority.
Josie had planned her outfit carefully that morning to avoid any questions from Lydia. Her loose jeans and cropped shirt were extremely casual, more so than she usually wore to school, as was her fuzzy cardigan. She'd even gone light on her makeup that morning to let her faint freckles peer through. Adding that to her loose, frizzy waves, Josie was positive Lydia wouldn't think anything of her clothes.
After all, the only thing worse than worrying about going to Stiles's house was Lydia interrogating her about why she was worrying about going to Stiles's house. Josie wasn't sure she even had an answer.
Allison began to pull potential shirts and Lydia quickly shot them down with an unimpressed 'pass.' After ten seconds of rapid rejections, Lydia squeezed herself in front of Allison and took over.
Josie hid a yawn in the sleeve of her cardigan. She'd never done well after the clocks turned back, her body fighting to go to sleep at the first sign of darkness. Considering it was pitch black by five p.m., Josie did her best to resist. However, her body never seemed to agree with her.
Allison sent a worried look over to Josie. "Are you okay? You've been yawning a lot."
Josie nodded, but Allison seemed unconvinced. The downside of not wearing concealer was how her dark circles became more prominent. "Yeah, I'm just tired."
It was only half of a lie; Josie was tired. She just wasn't going to explain how she woke up screaming the last two nights, covered in sweat, as Baba frantically shook her awake. That was something Josie was saving for Bea during their session tomorrow.
"Try taking magnesium-it helps regulate melatonin production." Lydia suggested absentmindedly, her hands fluttering over the clothing hangers. As Josie hummed in interest, Lydia's face lit up and she pulled a shirt from Allison's closet. "This."
Allison took the hanger, pressed the sequined shirt against her body, and turned towards her mirror. Lydia smiled proudly before looking at Josie expectantly.
"I like the color." Josie offered. "The black would look good with your jacket."
Before Allison could respond, her dad opened the door and walked into the room, fiddling with the coat in his hands. Josie stiffened slightly at the sudden appearance, but Lydia's smile easily slid into a smirk. Her apprehension lessened as the other girl sent a flirty look to Mr. Argent.
"Dad," Allison's eyebrows raised as she shot an exasperated smile to her dad. "Hello."
Mr. Argent began to shrug on his jacket before pausing. He winced. "Right. Sorry. I completely forgot to knock."
"Hi, Mr. Argent." Lydia gracefully fell onto the bed, landing on her side, one hand on her hip and the other holding her head up. By the large smile on her face, it was clear there was nothing serious about her flirting. Still, Mr. Argent just sent her a tense smile before awkwardly looking away.
Josie couldn't help her small giggle. Much more casually than Lydia, she sat on the edge of Allison's bed and smacked Lydia softly on the knee. They shared an amused smile as Allison flushed slightly.
"Dad, do you need something?" Allison asked. She pointedly ignored the hushed laughter behind her.
"I wanted to tell you that you'll be staying in tonight." Mr. Argent answered, adjusting the cuffs of his jacket.
Lydia rolled her eyes as she slumped further onto the bed. For the sake of Mr. Argent, she held in her groan. While Josie was more interested in seeing the scene play out, Lydia clearly knew how it was going to end.
Allison sent him a confused look. "What? I'm going out with my friends tonight."
"Not when some animal is out there attacking people." Mr. Argent stated.
Face flashing through a range of emotions-annoyance, disbelief, devastation, a righteous sort of anger-Allison only managed to stutter out a few words of disagreement before her dad cut her off.
"It's out of my hands. There's a curfew." There was no room for discussion in Mr. Argent's tone. "No one's allowed out past 9:30 p.m."
From her position on the bed, Josie could see Allison's jaw clench in frustration. As much as she empathized with her friend, there was no way Josie was going to put herself between Allison and her dad. Lydia seemed to agree, sitting up and sharing a wide-eyed look with her.
Allison tossed the clothes hanger and shirt back onto her bed. Josie winced. The toss was a little too forceful to play off as anything but pissed off.
Mr. Argent seemed to agree. Even though his face was relaxed, there was a hard note in his voice. "Hey, no more arguing." He sent them one final smile before leaving.
Allison sighed heavily and crossed her arms.
Eager to cut some of the tension, Josie stood and stretched her arms above her head. She cringed slightly at the burn in her left shoulder but ignored it to send Allison a pitying look. "I think I just saw you go through the five stages of grief."
Lydia scoffed lightly in amusement as she bounced off the bed. "You hit 'acceptance' very quickly. Someone's daddy's little girl."
"Sometimes." Allison agreed. Her jaw clenched once more. "But not tonight."
Josie worriedly watched as Allison hurried over to her vanity and shoved a dark knit hat over her curls. Lydia seemed equally confused, eyes widening as she glanced towards the bedroom door.
Allison opened her window and began to cautiously climb onto the roof below.
"What the hell are you doing?" Josie whispered, rushing to follow behind Allison. She wedged herself next to Lydia in the window frame, swatting the curtains out of her face.
Lydia nodded fervently in agreement.
Instead of answering, Allison gracefully flipped off the porch roof, stumbling to a landing on the ground. Lydia made a choked noise in the back of her throat while Josie just gaped. She was still processing how Allison did a front flip from a second-story window.
Allison looked up at them with a blinding smile. "Eight years gymnastics. Are you coming?"
"Absolutely not." Josie managed.
Lydia nodded her head though her face was scrunched up in disbelief. "I'll take the stairs."
Lydia flounced past Allison's parents downstairs with a bright smile, mentioning they should probably leave Allison alone to sulk for the rest of the night, while Josie hurried behind her. Not speaking to them was slightly suspicious, but Josie was sure the look on her face was even more so.
After shoving Allison lightly for scaring the life out of her, Josie squeezed into the back of Lydia's car. Worried about her own plans, she was content to let Lydia and Allison carry the conversation in the front seat.
As Lydia pulled out of Allison's driveway, she met Josie's eyes in the rearview mirror. "I'm taking you to this guy's house, right?"
"Lydia, you know his name." Allison chastised. "I've told you it multiple times."
Not looking the least bit sorry, Lydia raised her eyebrows. "Well, clearly he didn't leave much of an impression." She rolled her eyes at Allison's insistent look. "Sorry, Scott's friend/Josie's lab partner's house."
"Stiles," Josie emphasized, waving her phone into Lydia's line of sight. "Sent me his address but I have no clue where it is."
"Pass it." Lydia motioned for Josie to hand her phone over.
Josie obliged and watched as Lydia's face creased in thought. It only took a few seconds before the strawberry-blonde's face cleared.
Handing the phone back to Josie, Lydia nodded. "I know where we're going. My mom's divorce lawyer lives up there."
Allison choked on her water, hand coming to clutch at her chest. Lydia wrinkled her nose but began to delicately tap Allison's back with her free hand.
Josie did her best to not laugh. "That's literally doing nothing, Lydia. You might as well let her choke to death."
Allison's coughing cleared slightly. She rasped out a quiet, "She's just scared she might get beat tonight."
"Trying to weed out the competition?" Josie teased.
Scoffing, Lydia retracted her hand. "As if. You're going to get demolished, Argent."
"Whatever you say, Martin."
"Also," Lydia tapped on the center console to make sure she had Josie's attention. "I didn't know you had glasses."
After a few seconds of confused silence, Josie's mouth dropped open in understanding. "Oh, you're talking about my background."
"Let me see, please?" Allison's demand lilted up into a question, a smile spreading over her face, and Josie unlocked her phone before handing it over. The other girl cooed at the picture for a moment before breaking into disbelieving giggles. "There is no way that's a cat."
Josie peered over Allison's shoulder at her phone.
Her phone background was a picture of Josie curled on her bed back in Seattle with Kitty spread out next to her in a patch of sun. One of Josie's long braids was clamped suspiciously in Kitty's paws, the cat holding onto it like a stuffed animal, while Josie's face was scrunched in suppressed laughter. Her reading glasses were perched on her nose, slightly askew from where her face was smushed into the pillow, as she tried to hide from the camera.
The real cause of Allison's concern was the cat spread out on the bed. As a purebred Maine Coon, Kitty was the largest cat Josie had ever seen. She was easily triple the size of Peaches the chihuahua. At her annual vet appointment, Kitty had measured over a foot tall, almost three feet long, and fifteen pounds.
"Have you never seen my cat?" Josie joined in the laughter as she took in how ridiculous the picture looked. Kitty was the size of the whole upper half of Josie's body, and the scale dwarfed Josie, who no one had ever called small or delicate looking, into the size of a disproportionate child.
"No!" Allison's laughter increased as she handed the phone back. "There's no way she's actually that big."
"No, no, she is!" Josie defended. "She's a Maine Coon, and they get, like, gigantic."
"I can tell!" Allison responded, voice still breathless from giggles. "I think one of my aunts had a Maine Coon once, but it never got that big."
"It probably wasn't a real Maine Coon." Lydia stated. "Purebred Maine Coons can weigh up to twenty-five pounds."
"Kitty is a purebred." Josie confirmed. She quickly added, "She was the runt of a litter one of my dad's friends was breeding for showing. None of the trainers wanted her-they didn't think she would show well or something, and no one who didn't show cats wanted to pay that much for her. My dad knew I wanted a cat, so he got her as a surprise. I didn't really understand 'Adopt, Don't Shop' in elementary school."
Allison nodded, and she sighed wistfully. "I wish I could get a cat. My mom's allergic, so there's no way that's happening."
"I was nine when we got Kitty, I think?" Josie remembered going to sleep without a cat and waking up with one meowing loudly in the living room.
It had been a few days after one of her parents' wild parties for their art world friends. Even though she was always put to bed early on those nights, Josie was too scared of the loud noise to sleep. When she crept out of her room the next morning to find her parents, Josie tripped over someone sleeping at the top of the stairs. It didn't take long to figure out that she had broken her arm falling down the steps. Tearfully, Josie dialed the only number she had memorized: Keeley's home phone.
As an apology for being too high to take her to the hospital, or wake up at her shrieking, Anton made a few calls and Kitty showed up as an apology gift from her parents. As apology gifts went, Kitty was Josie's favorite.
"And you named your cat 'Kitty' at nine-years-old?" Lydia asked in a dry voice. From the glimpses Josie could see in the rearview mirror, her face was equally as unimpressed.
"I never claimed to be creative." Josie said.
As the conversation switched to the impending date, Josie stared out the window, content to let her mind wander. As she was mentally scheduling time to finish hemming Lydia's skirt, the car pulled to a stop.
Lydia pursed her lips and peered at the house through the windshield. "It doesn't look too awful."
"Jesus Christ, Lydia." Josie complained under her breath as she gathered her bag into her lap.
"What I meant," Lydia huffed. "Was that it doesn't look like you'll be murdered as soon as you walk in."
"Again," Josie repeated, layering on more annoyance. "Jesus Christ."
"Okay, okay." Allison cut into the brewing argument with an uneasy smile. "You said Stiles is going to take you home when you guys finish?"
"Yep." Josie nodded in confirmation.
"And you'll text one of us if you need anything?"
"Yes, Mom."
"Preferably, you would just dial 911. That way you don't interrupt the date." Lydia corrected. She caught Josie's eye in the rearview mirror before flashing a quicksilver smile.
Understanding the unspoken words in Lydia's smile, Josie tapped on the back of Allison's seat, cutting off the other girl before she could do anything more than sigh exasperatedly. "C'mon, move it before I change my mind."
Allison hopped out of the car to fiddle with the buttons on the side of her seat, a satisfied smile breaking over her face as the seat slid up. She beamed widely as Josie awkwardly stepped out of the car.
"What?" Josie asked cautiously, smoothing the hair out of her face.
The wide smile on Allison's face didn't falter at Josie's suspicious tone. "I'm just happy you're making an effort to be friends with Stiles. I appreciate it."
"I'm glad you appreciate it," Josie glanced at the house looming over them. "But this isn't me becoming friends with Stiles. This is me trying to pass Chemistry."
Allison pulled a face Josie couldn't read. "Yeah, okay."
Josie rolled her eyes at the patronizing tone. "Yeah, okay, please leave now."
Sending one more teasing smile to Josie, Allison slid into the car. Within seconds, Lydia was backing out of the driveway.
A quick wave to her departing friends and Josie was left outside in the dark. After a few seconds of telling herself to 'get a fucking grip,' and taking deep breaths like Bea taught her, Josie forced herself to walk up to the looming house.
Stiles Stilinski wasn't a stranger to being nervous around girls. Around middle school, when his hormones skyrocketed and girls became that much prettier, he had signed off most of his interactions with girls as hopeless.
However, the anxiety that came with having a girl over to his house-not just any girl, but the pretty new girl who was friends with his longtime crush-was brand new. The last time a girl had been over to his house was Stiles's eighth birthday party.
He'd spent the few hours after school frantically cleaning every visible inch of his house. He'd even spent the time shoving his wrinkled clothes into his bedroom closet. Of course, he didn't expect Josie to even make it to the stairs. Judging by the way she reacted to him grabbing her arm, it was more likely Stiles was going to get slapped than laid.
The memory of Josie's thousand-yard stare in the hallway came to the forefront of his mind. He'd just wanted to get her attention as she breezed past him in the hallway, jewelry shining under the fluorescent lights and dark hair pinned back, so, after his calls of her name went ignored, he reached for her arm.
It had only taken a few seconds for her to pull away like Stiles's hand had burned her. His first instinct was to be annoyed at how clearly offensive she found him, but that dissolved at the absent look on her face.
Usually, Josie's face seemed to rest somewhere between annoyed and amused. Often, she was fighting to keep down a smile, sometimes at his expense, but there was always something tense about her. The most relaxed he'd ever seen her was drunk at Lydia's party or arguing in his passenger seat.
However, after she pulled away from him, Josie's face had gone blank, eyes wide and looking far past him.
Stiles had done his best to cover for her and wave off the confused glances from people in the hallway. It'd taken her a few minutes to shake herself out of whatever daze she'd been locked into. She was more flighty than usual, snapping at Stiles to not touch her, before basically running away.
His first thought had been that she was a werewolf-or something supernatural adjacent.
When he mentioned it to Scott, his best friend gave him an incredulous look.
"No way, man." Scott shook his head, tapping his fingers nervously on the Jeep's door. His nerves were either from the idea of playing his first lacrosse game as first-line or the chance of getting caught digging up a body on Derek's property. Stiles thought both were likely options. "She's friends with Allison."
"Allison can have werewolf friends!" Stiles defended. He made the turn onto the road leading to the Beacon Hill's Wildlife Preserve. "You can't tell you don't think that her whole deal isn't super suspicious."
Scott scoffed. "'Her whole deal?'"
"Dude, c'mon." Stiles spared a look in his backseat at the shovels in his backseat as he took a sharp turn. He winced as they clanged together but didn't fall. His poor Jeep didn't deserve this.
With wide, innocent eyes, Scott gestured for him to go on.
Stiles rolled his eyes but began listing things off on his free hand. "She moved here around the same time you get bitten. She's best friends with Allison-whose dad is trying to kill you. She knows Derek. She has a scar on her shoulder she's super cagey about. She freaked out when I touched her today. Plus, she's way too nice to us."
"I don't know if 'nice' is the first word I'd use to describe Josie." Scott disagreed.
Making a noise of agreement, Stiles conceded the point. "Okay, 'nice' is a loose term. She isn't as openly antagonistic as she could be for someone who is friends with Lydia and Jackson."
Scott shook his head. "I just don't see it."
"So you haven't sensed anything weird with your magic werewolf powers?" Stiles asked doubtfully.
"Sometimes her heartbeat will start freaking out in the middle of class." Scott answered. He squinted, clearly doing his best to remember. "Or when someone gets too close to her."
Slightly relieved that he wasn't the direct cause of Josie's small meltdown in the hall, Stiles sighed. At least, he wasn't the only person she didn't want touching her.
After a brief moment of silence, Stiles looked over at Scott. "Do you just listen to people's heartbeats, like, all the time? 'Cause that's on the borderline of awesome…or creepy."
"Dude, no! It's hard to block out when someone sounds like they're having a heart attack." Scott defended. His face turned sheepish. "Plus, she's usually with Allison…"
"And you're always focused on Allison." Stiles finished. He pulled a face. "Ugh. Gross."
The lovesick smile remained on Scott's face, even as he asked, "Do you seriously think that Josie, of all people, is dangerous?"
"No." Stiles admitted. In all her strangeness, Josie seemed more wounded than anything. "I don't."
Since the conversation, Josie had only gotten stranger. After his dad mentioned 'the incident' that Mrs. Strinakova had told him about, Stiles doubled down in wanting to find answers. When bothering his dad got him nowhere, he'd started putting Josie's name in different search engines. His search history became an embarrassingly long list of Josie's name with different keywords.
The only relevant thing that came up was a newspaper article dated to the year before. It popped up when Stiles remembered Josie mentioning she previously lived in Washington and added it to the search.
The grainy picture on his screen was a yearbook photo of Josie in a cheerleading uniform, grinning brightly from the sidelines of a football game, tucked underneath a taller girl's arm. The article was congratulating the Harding High School's cheerleading team on winning their regional championship. The caption of one photo, the smallest one of Josie and another girl, read, Josephine Tantama and Keeley Thompson were the only freshmen to make the varsity team this year.
Even then, despite the small look it gave into Josie's life before Beacon Hills, the article was only relevant because it gave Stiles the visual of Josie in a cheerleading uniform. He mentally filed it away before clearing his browser history.
Overall, he had nothing.
Even with his half-hearted suspicions of Josie, Stiles was still more nervous about the fact that she was a girl who was coming to spend time in his house than the possibility of her being a part of the supernatural. So, he decided to rearrange the pillows on the couch…again.
A tentative knock on the door echoed through the house, bursting the tense silence, and Stiles flinched at the sudden noise. He yelped, dropping the pillows, and hurried to throw them in their proper places before scrambling to the door.
As he wrenched open the door, Stiles froze at the sight of Josie.
His first thought was that he'd never seen her with her hair down before. The second was that she looked like she was going to throw up.
Josie's hands were fidgeting with the strap of her bag, dark nails clutching at the fabric, and her eyes were darting everywhere except Stiles's face. Her usually tan skin was pale, highlighting the scattered freckles he thought he made up, and the dark circles under her eyes were more prominent than he could ever remember them being.
"Um, hi," Josie's face twisted slightly and her eyes flicked to his face. Based on the way she froze up, she hadn't expected to actually meet his eyes. Her eyes, so brown they seemed black in the warm porch light, widened.
It took a moment of awkward eye contact for Stiles to remember it was his turn to speak. "Oh, sorry, yeah, hi!"
She nodded but didn't move. Josie only shifted her weight awkwardly from one leg to the other as silence enveloped them.
Another beat passed before Stiles remembered that it was his job to invite Josie inside.
"Oh! You can come in…y'know mi casa es su casa ." He leaned one shoulder on the door, attempting a type of cool nonchalance, before gesturing behind him. Unfortunately, underestimating the momentum of throwing his arm behind him, Stiles's foot went along with it.
As he scrambled to keep his balance, arms pinwheeling wildly, Stiles swore that he heard a gasping laugh escape from Josie. His head snapped to the right at the unfamiliar sound. Ignoring the ache in his neck, Stiles searched for any sign of amusement in Josie's face.
Personally, Stiles thought he was hilarious. However, according to Scott, others thought that his humor left a lot to be desired. Stiles didn't take much offense at that, mainly because the other people in Beacon Hills were idiots, but it was becoming frustrating that the only time he'd managed to make Josie properly laugh was when she was drunk. He'd heard her giggle under her breath, but Stiles refused to count those. It felt too much like admitting defeat.
Josie stared back at him, but the only sign she'd even noticed his near fall was the twitching of her lips.
Resigned, Stiles gestured again for Josie to slip past him into the house. With soft footsteps and her usual caution to avoid accidental touches, she stepped past him, leaving behind the faint smell of cherries.
The smell of her perfume-and the reminder of the shameful way he'd refused to wash the jacket she'd borrowed, instead letting it sit in the corner of his room, doing his best to ignore it-sent his nerves into overdrive.
Josie had slipped her sneakers off and nudged them neatly towards the wall. Before Stiles could admit that they weren't really a house that concerned itself with not wearing shoes inside, Josie realized it on her own.
Horror blossomed over her face, her cheeks darkening as she looked at her bright yellow socks. "Oh, shit, sorry. Should I…?"
"No, no, it's fine!" Stiles was quick to toe his own shoes off and they flopped messily next to Josie's. He thanked any deity listening that he was wearing a pair of socks that didn't have holes in them.
Her voice was still apologetic. "Sorry, I think my mom conditioned it into me that you're supposed to take your shoes inside."
"Since it's just me and my dad, it's kinda, y'know, fallen to the wayside a bit." Stiles explained, doing his best to not seem self-conscious. He'd never given much thought to the debate of wearing shoes inside the house before, but Stiles knew it was going to haunt his dreams tonight.
"I get it, you don't need to explain." Josie began to look around in either curiosity or an attempt to avoid looking at him. Stiles assumed it was a mixture of both.
As she peered around the doorway into the kitchen, Stiles took a moment to gather his thoughts-and let his face relax. Attempting to hold in his animated facial expressions was harder than he remembered. Stiles took a moment to remind himself that while Josie was pretty-not to mention alarmingly hot-she wasn't Lydia.
Other than the obvious difference of Josie giving him the time of day, Stiles reminded himself that underneath all her sharp teasing, Josie could be surprisingly kind. He'd smacked her in the face with a lacrosse stick the first time they met, giving her a bloody nose, and proceeded to physically run into her multiple times. If he'd done that to Lydia, Stiles was sure her scorn would've forced him to switch schools. Josie wasn't like that.
He didn't have any reason to be as nervous as he was.
Taking a deep breath, Stiles turned back to Josie with slightly less anxiety. His attempts at nonchalance were failing miserably, but he hoped his voice had steadied out slightly. "So…are you really hopeless at chemistry?"
Josie relaxed a fraction before nodding earnestly. "Pretty bad. I'm just not a science person."
Looking at the wavering smile on her face, Stiles realized she was possibly more nervous than he was. Knowing that he wasn't alone in having no clue how to navigate their situation helped. "I'm kinda a science person? I'm better than Scott, at least, but he's absolutely screwed this semester, no matter what. Mr. Harris acts like he murdered his mother or something-not that Scott is capable of murdering anyone!"
He gestured for her to follow him into the living room and, after taking a moment to realize she wasn't behind him, glanced back to catch her hesitant look. It took a second but she slowly followed him.
Stiles awkwardly perched himself on the edge of the couch, making sure to leave plenty of space between for Josie to sit. Her obvious unease was rekindling the anxiety in his stomach. "I'm not gonna, like, get offended if you leave or anything. You seem kinda…" Unable to find the words, he just gestured in her general direction.
"No, I'm fine." Josie sat down on the other side of the couch and placed her bookbag at her feet. She refused to meet his eyes, instead beginning to dig through the mess in her bag.
"Seriously, I don't want you to be uncomfortable or make you freak out. Not like…" Stiles swallowed nervously as the words died in his throat. Not like before.
Josie finally looked up at him. Her dark eyes were still wide but her voice came out steady. "Stiles, it's not you. I'm extremely out of my comfort zone, but I can deal with it. I just need a second to adjust, but I appreciate the offer."
The words sounded planned, like Josie had practice explaining away her nerves, but it didn't do much to soothe his own.
It seemed Josie could read his doubt because she began hurriedly flipping through her chemistry notebook, free hand moving dramatically around her face, as she started to explain her issues with chemistry. Stiles's eyes widened at the long list.
Josie shrugged. "Told you I'm hopeless."
Stiles couldn't find it in himself to argue instead doing his best to put on an encouraging face. "Yeah, it's pretty bad."
Apparently, Josie had been prepared for him to argue. She made a noise halfway between a laugh and a scoff. Shifting slightly closer to him, Josie placed her notebook in the space between herself and Stiles. As she began explaining what she didn't understand from their earlier class, her shoulders started to loosen slightly.
Stiles hoped that Josie was telling the truth when she said she'd only need a second to adjust-he knew he wouldn't be able to relax until she did. The prospect of staying as tightly wound as Josie seemed exhausting.
It took exactly one hour of studying, fifteen minutes of arguing, and forty minutes of a movie for Josie to become comfortable.
"I never said I didn't like them! Only that I'd be okay to never see them." Josie defended. A far cry from her previously stiff posture, Josie had settled into her corner of the couch, legs crossed in front of her with a pillow clutched in her arms.
It had only taken an hour of Stiles and Josie studying together before their bickering started. Her frustration with the topic led to her snapping at Stiles-who couldn't back down from an argument if his life depended on it-and ended with a tense silence.
To break the ice, Stiles went with his trusted method: a Star Wars joke that hung awkwardly in the air before Josie admitted she'd never seen any of the original movies. His abject horror only grew when she said the only ones she'd finished were the prequels.
Stiles, at his breaking point, jumped to his feet while Josie defended herself from the couch. He listened just enough to her defense of the prequel movies, fully based on the effectiveness of the costume design, to shake his head while he rummaged through the stack of DVDs next to the television stand.
Josie's rant didn't falter for the five minutes it took Stiles to find A New Hope, put it in the DVD player, make popcorn, and close the curtains. It seemed she hadn't even noticed; she'd only blinked in surprise when Stiles flopped onto the couch next to her with a bowl of popcorn outstretched between the two of them.
Stiles had managed to keep his mouth shut for exactly twenty minutes.
The first ten were easy; Josie was staring at the screen and Stiles was staring at the way the television light was bouncing off her hair. Incrementally, Josie relaxed. By the time C-3P0 and R2-D2 were wandering the desert on Tatooine, Josie had curled her feet under her and laid her head on the arm of the couch.
Twenty minutes into the movie, just as Luke started working on R2-D2, Stiles couldn't help but interject with a comment about how miserable it had to be on Tatooine. He winced, expecting Josie to complain about him talking during the movie like Scott always did, but Josie just agreed.
When Josie asked a question about how moisture farming worked, Stiles took it as permission to talk as much as he wanted.
"Saying you don't care about watching something is just like admitting it's bad!" Stiles argued. He wasn't sure when he got up to start pacing-somewhere in his explanation about the differences between Outer Rim and Inner Rim planets-but he had flopped onto the floor near Josie's feet.
When Stiles glanced up at her, Josie looked like she was contemplating attacking him with the pillow. Mentally imagining Josie's knee connecting to his face, Stiles did his best to casually distance himself from her.
Instead of hitting him, Josie just rolled her eyes. "That's not what it means."
"Okay, what does it mean then?" Stiles demanded. He went to grab the nearly empty popcorn bowl on the coffee table, but Josie beat him to it.
Replacing the pillow in her lap with the bowl, putting it safely out of his reach, Josie shrugged with a smug smile. "It means that I think it's an okay movie. Not, like, life-changing or anything."
"What?!" Stiles sat up on his knees and gaped. "That's all it is? Just 'okay?'"
Josie nodded earnestly, her face schooled into a serious expression. "I've seen better."
"Like what?" Stiles scoffed.
"Any of the Barbie movies," Josie answered. "But especially The Princess and the Pauper."
Stiles was unable to discern between his mixed feelings of horror and disbelief. He could only stare blankly at Josie as she nodded to his unasked question. Even her eyes, wide and dark-and, for once, looking directly into his-couldn't distract Stiles from his abject confusion.
He was only able to snap out of it when he saw Josie's shoulders shaking minutely. Within seconds, she was pressing a hand over her mouth to try and muffle the laughter escaping. It didn't work and Josie's bright laugh was spilling into the room.
Doing his best to hide his growing smile, Stiles shook his head at her. "Are you serious right now?"
Josie, unable to speak through her laughter, just gave a slightly crooked smile, the right side of her mouth twitching higher than the left. She covered her face with both hands, shaking her head, as she gave up on stuttering out any words.
In retaliation, Stiles reached for her abandoned pillow and tossed it at her. He was aiming for her covered face, but the pillow dropped into the bowl perched in her lap. Josie shrieked as popcorn went flying through the air as the bowl spilled.
She looked at him in surprise, kernels of popcorn hanging in her hair, and Stiles couldn't help his loud laughter. Josie's giggles quickly morphed into proper laughter, a slightly breathless edge to it, as she took in the popcorn covering the couch around her.
It could've been seconds or hours that they spent laughing, but it only subsided at a weary sigh from the doorway.
"Do I even want to know what is happening here?" Stiles's dad stood in the open doorway, arms crossed over his chest tiredly, with an amused look on his face.
Josie's laughter tapered into small giggles as she gestured to the coffee table. A piece of popcorn fell off the sleeve of her cardigan onto her chemistry notebook. "Studying."
"Yeah, Dad, can't you tell?" Stiles asked. A goofy smile spread over his face when he caught a glimpse of the single dimple that appeared on the right side of Josie's face.
Looking between the two laughing teens, the Sheriff just wiped a hand down the side of his face. "And do either of you care about the curfew for tonight?"
Stiles scoffed, sending a dry look to his dad, knowing that he already knew the answer.
"Not really, sorry." Josie shrugged. Her smile eased into something more charming than the wide grin she had before.
"Yeah, I don't know what I expected there." The Sheriff shook his head. "Just take Josie home and then get back here. No pit stops anywhere."
"Would I ever?" Stiles asked, slightly offended. At the look his dad gave him, Stiles shrugged in agreement. "Yeah, I definitely would. Point taken."
Josie shook the popcorn off her notebook and various pens before sliding them into her backpack. She swung it over her shoulder and began running a hand through her hair. A few kernels of popcorn fell out. "Thanks for letting me come over…and sorry about the mess."
"It's okay." The Sheriff smiled. "Stiles will be more than happy to clean it up when he gets back."
"Ugh, Dad!" Stiles complained. At his dad's stern look, he just held his hands up innocently. "Okay, okay, I will."
The Sheriff moved from the doorway to let Josie pass and Stiles heard her begin to put her shoes back on. As he went to join her, his dad stopped him with a hand on the shoulder. "Josie's a nice girl."
"Yeah, she's cool." Stiles's eyebrows furrowed. Josie was nice, especially the few times his dad had met her, and Stiles assumed most parents liked her. What he didn't know was why his dad felt the need to announce it.
The Sheriff raised his eyebrows pointedly. "Just get her home safe. The bus driver from the attack at the school died earlier today, so be careful. Seriously, from her house back to here."
"Yeah, yeah, of course. Okay, time to go!" Stiles's thoughts began to go haywire at the new information. He barreled into the hallway, not bothering to untie his shoelaces as he shoved his feet into them, and grabbed his keys.
Josie looked confused but waved a quick goodbye as Stiles ushered her out the door. She only made a face when Stiles slammed the passenger door of his Jeep as soon as she sat down.
The conversation on the way to Josie's house was filled with Josie's questions about Star Wars . Thankfully, Stiles could answer most of them in his sleep. Most of his focus was on how he was going to explain to Scott that he might have killed someone.
Before long, he was pulling into the gravel driveway in front of Mrs. Strinakova's aging Victorian house.
"Alright, well, thanks for the studying. And the movie. I didn't completely hate it." Josie unbuckled her seatbelt and gave Stiles a tentative smile. "I know you're supposed to go straight home, but do you want to come in for a bit?"
"Josie, I really wish I could. Like, believe me, if it was any other time, I would absolutely say yes." Stiles cringed as Josie visibly retreated at his refusal.
"It's cool," Josie shrugged. "Thanks anyways."
"No, it was really nice! I mean, it was kind of weird at the beginning…but mostly nice." Stiles, feeling exceptionally brave after how the night had gone, began slowly reaching towards her. When it was clear she wasn't going to hit him, Stiles briskly patted her on the shoulder before snatching his hand back.
Josie's mouth twitched in amusement. "If you don't make me watch any more sci-fi movies, you might get upgraded to a handshake."
Before Stiles could get his thoughts together for a coherent reply, Josie was out of the car and jogging to her front door.
After making sure he saw Josie shut the door behind her, Stiles could only do one thing. He rolled his eyes, put his car in reverse, and muttered, "stupid fucking werewolves" under his breath.