Weight of the World

08

Scott followed Stiles and asked, "Where are we going?"

"You'll see," Stiles replied.

"'Cause we really shouldn't be here. My mom is in a constant state of freak-out from what happened at the school. Molly refused to come. She told me she needed to do homework."

"Well, your mom isn't the sheriff, okay? There's no comparison, trust me. I wish Molly had come, but homework is important."

"Can you at least just tell me what we're doing out here?"

"Yes. When your best friend gets dumped-"

"I didn't get dumped. We're taking a break."

"All right, well, when your best friend gets told by his girlfriend that they're taking a break - You get your best friend drunk." He grinned and the two sat.

After having some whiskey, Stiles said, "Dude, you know, she's just one - one girl. You know, there are so many - there are so many other girls in the sea."

"Fish in the sea," Scott corrected.

"Fish? Why are you talking about fish? I'm talking about girls. I love girls. I love 'em. I love especially ones with red and blonde hair, green eyes, 5'3 and 5'4-"

"Like Lydia and Molly?"

"Yeah, exactly. Hey, how did you know I was talking about - about - What was I talking about? Hey, you're not happy. Take a drink." He offered the bottle.

Scott pushed it away. "I don't want anymore."

"You're not drunk?"

"I'm not anything."

"Hey, maybe it's like - maybe it's like not needing your inhaler anymore, you know. Maybe you can't get drunk as a wolf. Am I drunk?"

"You're wasted."

"Yeah! Come on, dude, I know it feels bad. I know it hurts. I know. Well, I don't know. But I know this. I know that as much as being broken up hurts, being alone is way worse. I wish I could tell Molly that she makes me happier than I ever thought. That's weird because I thought I loved Lydia. That didn't make any sense. I need a drink."

Two guys walked up, picked up the bottle and one said, "Well, look at the two little bitches getting their drink on."

"Give it back," Scott ordered.

"What's that, little man?" guy one taunted.

"I think he wants a drink," guy two said.

"I want the bottle," Scott told them.

Stiles glanced at his friend. "Scott, maybe we should just go."

"You brought me here to get drunk, Stiles. I'm not drunk yet. Give me the bottle." His voice became distorted. "Give me the bottle of Jack." He grabbed it and threw it at a tree.

"Scott?"

After a moment, Stiles looked at his friend. "Okay, please tell me that was because of the breakup. Or 'cause tomorrow's the full moon. Going home now, yeah?" The friends left.

"How about we just go?" guy two suggested.

"How about you just shut up?" guy one retorted.

"Come on, man, I'm freezing my junk off out here. Help! Help, please! Help me! Somebody help me! Help me! Please, God, help me! Please! No! No, no, no, please! No! Please, no! No! No, no, no, no! No, no, no, no! Noo!"

INT. SCOTT'S ROOM

The radio sounded. "Beautiful Monday morning. Beacon Hills High School is back open after being closed Thursday and Friday. Police search continues of alleged killer Derek Hale-"