"So I'm assuming I'll have to give Lydia rides to and from school." Stiles sighs, flopping his feet as he walks into the kitchen. Monday's meant early mornings and calorie filled breakfast that would surely result in a nap later in math class.
"You're off the hook, Lydia won't be attending school for a while." The Sherriff pours himself a cup of coffee and Stiles stops amidst his current food search.
"Why? Because she'd feel too monachopsis?" Stiles asks. If that was the case he'd be sure to make her feel right at home; show her to her classes, sit in the desk next to her, even have Allison force a friendship.
"Where's the English button?" Mr.Stilinski snaps his fingers and Stiles rolls his eyes.
"It is English. Monachopsis: the subtle but persistent feeling of being out of place." He explains.
"Well in that case I'm sure she'd feel very monachopsis."
"Leave the extensive vocabulary to me." He snatches two poptarts from the pantry, stuffing a package secretly in his knapsack before ripping the other open. There were still a lot of questions he wanted to ask. What would she do all day? Was she ever going to school? But all that he could actually ask was, "she'll be okay?"
Mr.Stilinski seems surprised by what his son had asked. "I'm sure she will. Get to school!"
The two exchange smiles before Stiles heads out the door with his keys dangling from his finger. The sun was bright and the air was warm making the boy pray that summer would come soon because it was nearing the end of April and road trips with his friends had already been laid out. He could already picture Allison and Scott arguing over who had shotgun in the jeep as they made their way down to the bay for a week or two.
A yawn escapes the boy as he fiddles with the combination on his locker, every now and then looking from the corner of his eye down the hall. He jumps as a fist slams into the locker next to his, letting out a breath of relief upon seeing it was only Scott.
"Where's what's-her-face?" His hair was a mess, was all Stiles could think.
"Lydia's at home. And that's solecism." Stiles announces.
"Dictionary."
"Solecism: a grammatical mistake, a minor blunder in speech. 'What's-her-face' is technically grammatically incorrect."
Scott lets out a small "oh" with a slight nod of his head before opening his locker two away from Stiles'. And this was the joy of Monday's. They'd gather their stuff for class, take a couple laps around the school until the first bell rang and they'd walk-N-talk to chemistry, more often than not the topic revolving around the newest Megan Fox movie because "her boobs were definitely too big for that top" Scott gawks as they enter their room, Stiles chuckling at his friends over exaggeration.
"Heard you've got your own personal sex slave." Isaac Lahey gets in Stiles' face causing Stiles to jump as he takes the desk next to his. Stiles sighs, exchanging a glance with Scott. Neither of them were particularly fond of Isaac Lahey (and yes, they did call the boy by both names all day everyday, so it's only right if we do so too). The three had once been the best of friends. That was until Isaac was the first to get a date, first to throw a party, first to lose his virginity and all of a sudden annual Thursday game night at Scott's was no longer at the top of his priorities list. Who could blame him though? Stiles would much rather bang a girl than sit in front of an Xbox for two hours.
"She's not my sex slave." Stiles lowers his voice, checking his surroundings just in case anyone actually had overheard him. They hadn't.
Isaac Lahey shrugs. "Whatever you wanna call it. Just know that I want a piece of that."
Stiles squints his eyes and furrows his brows. "Uh you can't 'have a piece of that' because she's not a sex slave. She's not an anything!" The tardy bell rang and the teacher began his lesson but that didn't stop the curly haired boy.
"So you say there's a girl living in your house completely unrelated to you, and you aren't tapping that?"
"That's exactly what I'm saying. Glad you finally picked up." Stiles' eyes never leave the board.
A sigh escapes him as he tucks the cap of his pen between his teeth and chews on the end. Peremptory: synonym for Isaac Lahey. The teacher was droning on, a paper wad was repeatedly being tossed back and forth between students and just when he thought it was over, it had only started.
"Does the bitch have a name?"
Stiles turns to Isaac Lahey with anger. "Could you shut up? 'Cause it's been five minutes but I've already run out of time for your bullshit."
"Stilinski! Office." The teacher commands. "Now."
Stiles sighs, internally groaning as he snatches up his bag and looks to a snickering Scott while walking out of class. It was something he very seldom did but the fact that he did it sticking up for Lydia made him curious. There was nothing particularly special about her not to mention the fact they'd never had a conversation over three words. The whole situation seemed ridiculous. Just as Stiles rounds the corner, he bumps into a smaller frame and papers flutter to the ground as he begins to apologize.
"Fancy meeting you here." The angelic voice fills his ears and he looks up to see none other than Malia Tate. "Hi, Stiles." She beams with confidence as they both sink to the ground to gather her things.
"So does this count as another 'friend-date'?" He asks and Malia laughs.
"You're funny."
"Cute and funny. I'll keep that in mind." He chuckles causing her to laugh again. This was definitely going smoother than the last time they had spoken. The two stood, Stiles handing her back his stack of paper and she accepts it with a small grin and a thanks.
"Where you off to?" She asks.
"Huh?"
"Well you're out of class I just assumed you were going somewhere that wasn't class."
Stiles nods, shoving his hands in his pockets. "I may or may not have said a curse word in the peremptory Isaac Lahey's direction." They begin to walk away from the office, towards wherever the hell Malia had been going in the first place.
"Peremptory?" She questions the word.
"Oh, it's a synonym for jackass." He briefly explains.
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Authors note:
Alone at a table for two, and I just wanna be served(deep voice). And when you think of me (fav part) am I the best you've ever had? (Yes you are). Share one more drink with me, smile even though you're sad(deep voice again).
LOVE THAT SONG. LOVE THAT PART.
Comment, read, enjoy!
-Chloe
YOU ARE READING
Lydia's Shy (completed)
FanfictionShe'd been providing for herself since the age of fourteen when her parents had died tragically in a car accident. But now, two years late at the age of sixteen, she finally has a place to call home. Lydia was shy. Very, extremely, inevitably, shy...
