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chapter fifty-one ❝ don't make this easy, i want you to mean it ❞ muted
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"How the hell am I supposed to ask out the hottest girl in school!?"
Scott looked at Stiles with an almost bored expression. "Um, get her flowers? Chocolate? Reenact a scene from Twilight?" He listed off all of the possible things Stiles could do to ask out Kennedy after she rejected him.
Stiles threw his hands up. "You don't get it, Scott! Kennedy is Kennedy. When Jackson asked her out, she only said yes because he had the lacrosse team do a dance number while the band played Dear Maria, Count Me In by All Time low!" He explained, exasperated.
"Yeah, but that was also when Kennedy was 14 and was the spoiled rich bitch cliche at school," Scott explained.
Stiles rolled his eyes. "But it's her birthday, today. I want to make it special." He said with a frown.
"Come on, you'll think of something! You know her better than almost anyone."
Stiles froze in thought. "Almost, but there's one person that knows her better than me." Scott frowned as Stiles shut his gym locker. "Lydia."
"Dude, Kennedy loves you. You don't need to have a musical number to ask her out. She just wants you to show that you really want to be back together, and for the romantic parts, not just the sex parts." Scott explained, following Stiles down the hall as they headed to morning practice.
Stiles sighed loudly. "I know," He mumbled. "I'll figure something out." He pauses in thought. "I'll have her come over after school, and I'll think of something before she shows up!"
Meanwhile, Kennedy sat between her dad and Derek at the loft. She watched distastefully as Braeden put her feet on the table in front of them. She bit the inside of her cheek, slowly looking up at the mercenary.
"That table's Italian," Peter said, feeling the same way as his daughter.
Braeden rose a brow. "So are these boots." She commended. "Are we going to talk interior designing fashion or are we going to talk numbers?" Derek looked at his reflection in the sunglasses. Peter scrolled on a notecard. Kennedy looked at Derek, slapping the glasses away from him. Braeden looked at the paper as Peter slides it over. Derek scoffs, slapping Kennedy's hands away from the glasses. Braeden begins writing a new number on the paper. Derek and Kennedy get into a hand-slapping fight, the two of them swatting at one another.
"Children!"
Derek and Kennedy jump, turning around to see Peter glaring at them. "Sorry," Kennedy whispered. Peter looked down at the paper as Braeden slides it over.
