Weight of the World

21

Lydia carried three Macy's bags as she entered Allison's house. Since she made Molly go shopping with her, she was willing to carry the bags. If there was one thing Molly despised it was long shopping trips.

"Clear your schedules," Lydia said. "This could take awhile."

She placed the bags on Allison's bed and Allison asked, "How many outfits do you plan on wearing tonight?"

Lydia met her eyes and shrugged. "It's my birthday party. I'm thinking host dress." She held up a grey-striped dress. "Evening dress, then, mm, after hours casual."

Molly sat with her legs crossed on the floor as she twirled her butterfly knife.

Allison said, "I noticed you didn't send out any invites."

Lydia shot Allison a look. "It's the biggest party of the year, Allison. Everyone knows."

Allison was silent for a moment. "I was wondering if maybe this year, you know, might be different."

"Why would anything be different?"

"Just 'cause things have been off lately. Things and people. Like Jackson."

Lydia's voice took on an icy tone. "What do you care about Jackson?"

Molly glanced up and said, "Is he coming? I mean, I know you two-"

Lydia frowned. "Everyone's coming." She held a beige dress to her body. "This one's America rag. Mm, I love it. For me, not you. Molly, this is yours." She handed Molly the gree dress she'd picked. "This one's material girl. It's for you." She offered Allison a floral print dress and turned to see Allison's mom. "Ms. Argent. What do you think of this one?"

Mrs. Argent nodded half-heartedly. "Oh, it's lovely. Allison, uh, can I grab you for a moment to talk? Just the two of us."

Allison didn't look up. "Um, can we do it later?"

"Actually, uh, to be honest, sooner would be -- would be better."

Molly frowned, the short-haired woman wanted to say goodbye to her daughter.

"Party's at 10:00," Lydia said.

Mrs. Argent licked her lips. "Um, will you be around before then?"

Allison let out a sigh. "I think so."

"You think so."

"I don't know."

Molly turned to Allison. "I'd give anything to talk to my mom again. The least you can do is talk to yours."

Allison faced the blonde. "I'll talk to her when I feel up to it."

"You'd better make it soon."

Allison's eyes narrowed further. "Don't tell me what to do."

Molly stood. "What the hell is wrong with you? She's your damn mother." She walked away, running into Dean.

"Molly, you okay? What's wrong?"

"Don't, Dean."

Dean placed a hand on her shoulder. "Molly, what's wrong?"

"Nothing," she lied. "I gotta get ready."

"For what?"

"Lydia's birthday party. Don't worry, I won't drink and I'll be a responsible teenager."

"Mols, you know you can talk to me and Sam, right?"

"I know. Gotta go."

Dean watched her go and sighed.

After a moment, Lydia let out a sigh and pulled out another one. "Oh, I guess that black one would fit. All right, here you go." She handed the dress to Allison and cocked her head. "No, it's too much."

Allison smiled. "I think I like it."

"You like it?"

She nodded. "Yeah, no, I do. Happy birthday."

She smiled at her. "Oh, thank you. I actually appreciate that."

They arrived at Lydia's house, and Molly showed up a short while later and heard a voice say, "Or maybe nobody's coming because Lydia's turned into the town whackjob."

Allison let out a sigh. "Well, we have to do something, because we've completely ignored her for the past two weeks."

Scott shrugged. "She's completely ignored Stiles for the past ten years."

Molly joined them and stood between Scott and Stiles, shooting Allison at glare. "It's rude to call people a whackjob."

Stiles studied her a moment before saying, "Yeah. You look beautiful."

"Thank you."

Scott said, "We don't owe her a party."

Allison frowned. "What about the chance to get back to normal?"

"Normal?"

"She wouldn't be the town whackjob if it wasn't for us."

"For you all," Molly argued. "Would you quit calling her that?"

Allison narrowed her eyes at Molly. "Can you stop shooting being bitchy?"

Molly clenched her jaw and balled a fist before walking away.

Stiles frowned as he turned to Allison. "What'd you do to make her so angry?"

"I told my mom I was busy," Allison said. "I'll talk to her later. Molly thinks my mom -- Never mind. It doesn't matter."

As soon as Allison left, Molly rejoined the boys and heard Stiles ask, "Are you gonna apologize to Allison or what?"

Scott frowned. "Why should I apologize?"

"Because you're the guy. It's, like, what we do."

"But I didn't do anything wrong."

"You should definitely apologize," Molly told her friend. "I'm getting some punch. Maybe talk to Lydia... If I can find her." She left once again.

Stiles nodded. "See, any time a guy thinks he hasn't done anything wrong, it means he's definitely done something wrong."

Scott shook his head. "I'm not apologizing."

Stiles met his friend's eyes. "Is that the full moon talking, buddy?"

Scott let out a sigh. "Probably. Why do you care, anyway? Why do either of you care?"

"Because, Scott, something's gotta go right here. I mean, we're getting our asses royally kicked, if you haven't noticed. People are dying. I got my dad fired. You're gonna be held back in school. I'm in love with a girl that doesn't reciprocate my feelings. And if on top of all that, I gotta watch you lose Allison to a stalker like Matt, I'm gonna stab myself in the face."

Scott nodded and Stiles sighed. "Why not?"

"Because Jackson's here," Scott suddenly said.

Molly grabbed a glass of punch and was going to take a sip, but thought she heard someone call her name and set the punch down.

She watched as Stiles stared at her, but he didn't seem to notice her. She walked up to him and shook his shoulder. "Stiles?" He didn't respond. "Stiles, look at me. Are you okay?"

Stiles' head was dunked in the water by a girl and he came to his senses.

Molly looked around and asked, "Where'd Lydia go?"

Stiles did a 360. "Hey, I can't find her. And anyone who drank that crap, they're freaking out."

"I can see that," Scott replied with a shrug. "I don't know, but we gotta-"

Scott's sentence was cut off by Matt falling into the water and screaming. "I can't swim! No, no, no, no, stop, guys! I can't swim! I can't -- I can't-"

Jackson pulled Matt out who glared and asked in a rude tone, "What are you looking at?"

A kid suddenly cried, "The cops are here. Party's over!"

They exited the house and Molly frowned, seeing the kanima snaking around a soaking wet Matt.

"It's him," Molly said quietly. "Oh, sh-"