The Lives We Lead | tmr/tw • tw/tmr |

(28) Well, This Just Got A Whole Lot More Complicated

Nobody found it too far-fetched to say that Stiles was only one or two moments away from a full-blown tantrum.

Not only could he not get a hold of Minho because apparently the man was on his honeymoon in Tahiti, but he couldn't find any social media pages for Newt anywhere. Not even an abandoned MySpatial page--nothing.

Stiles' best bet came from Newt's wife--since when had everyone gotten married?!--who he found on FacePlace in a matter of seconds, but her profile was private and she still hadn't responded to his friend request three days later.

Getting help from Ramahilla was a bust too. No matter how much he pestered through messenger, she kept saying she wasn't allowed to interfere (and eventually she stopped replying altogether as, apparently, even Protectors have their limits). As if it was a coincidence she added him on social media right after going to that wedding... Stiles knew that she'd already thrown him a pretty sizable bone, but it was still frustrating to get stonewalled when he was so close. So Stiles did what he always did when things became difficult.

He got creative.

"Yes, hi," he stood out front for Beacon Hills High School, only ten minutes away from taking his French final. "Is this Angela? Hi, Angela. We have some mutual acquaintances that I'm struggling to get a hold of—I noticed everyone in the same wedding photos actually. Yeah, Hiro and I go waaay back. And I don't want to bother him since he's on his honeymoon and all, but his best man—yes, Oliver—he's also an old friend and I can't find any way to contact him. I've been waiting for an accepted friend request from Marigold on... oh, she did? Well, that makes a lot of sense. Going into labor is a pretty good excuse. Is there a way you can give me Oliver's number? Or even an email? ... No? I get it, you want to look out for them and make sure nothing suspicious is going on but Oliver is an old friend that I haven't seen in... no, no don't hang up! Please! Shit..."

That was about how the last eight calls had gone. He only had one person left in the wedding party who he could contact... after his French final, unfortunately. At least that he could ace.

"Hey, there. Ryan?" Stiles greeted his last chance of getting in contact with Newt and Minho sooner rather than later. Checking the time, he realized he only had maybe 7 minutes before he needed to get to physics. "I'm an old friend of Hiro's—and Oliver as well... Oh, so you know I'm trying to get in contact with him? Because everyone's texting about the creepy dude calling people? Awesome, that's... yeah, I know you can't give me his contact information, I get it. Could... could you just pass along a message for me maybe? If I give you my information to give to Oliver—would that be okay? Look, I know this is a weird circumstance and I'm not asking to get his number anymore because I know you have know clue who I am... just tell him 'That greenie, Thomas, says hi.' He'll understand. And if he wants to contact me after that, you have my number since we're on the phone right now... thank you. No, no, I understand being cautious. The guys got a kid—two of them, now—and I don't blame you guys for being careful. Please..."

Stiles held his breath, waiting for a response. "Thank you," he sighed.

Then came the waiting.

As painful as it felt for Stiles, it was tenfold for everyone else. Stiles could distract himself with meaningless tasks or deep-dives into the realms of social media to try and find other Sunyatans—how had he not thought of using social media? But he'd sit and polish his chess set without much thought and Scott or Malia would get antsy from the stench of the polish. Or he'd try his hand at learning more complex coding in order to improve the website he made... while tapping his foot at such a sporadic rate that Peter demanded he leave, especially since he couldn't understand why Stiles thought to hang out at the loft anyways—though it probably had to do with how annoyed everyone else felt.