I'll slip away

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Stiles stood outside his jeep after school, looking down at his phone in confusion. He hadn't gotten any texts from anyone but his dad, and that was occasionally.

Unknown: you busy this evening?
Unknown: this is Peter by the way. I stole your number from the True Alphas phone

Stiles could actually hear the sneer that Peter had used when typing "True Alpha".

The real  question was: why was Peter texting him? Sure they kinda hung out last night, but he didn't think that meant that Peter would want to hang out more. Though Stiles wasn't too against having the zombie wolf over again. It was better being around people then alone. The voices were quieter when he wasn't left to his own devices.

Stiles: nope, no plans, just gonna hang out alone since my dad will probably work the double shift again. And btw that totes wasn't creepy at all

He sighed and rubbed his eyes again as he started to hear the faint noise of laughter in his head. It had been pretty quiet since he had the panic attack in the bathroom earlier that day.

He counted his finger and then counted to twenty then back again. His breathing slowed and he closed his eyes from the harsh glare of the sun above him.

"Are you okay?" A new voice he wasn't familiar with asked for his left and he jumped slightly, not having heard the other person walk up to him.

He turned and saw the blond boy with the big smile and green eyes. He stood with his head tilted to the side, his forest colored eyes narrowed in thought.

Stiles sighed in releif, "What?,"

The other boy s lied softly and sheepishly asked," I said, 'Are you okay?'. You looked kinds down."

Stiles looked at the boy suspiciously. What did this guy care? No one else could and now a new guy does, "I'm fine," He said in a monotone voice.

"Oh, okay, well-"

"What do you want?" Stiles asked bluntly. He was not in the mood to deal with annoying new kids. Even if they are unnaturally attractive. He'd thought the only people attractive like that were were-wolves.

The other boy rubbed at his neck embarrassed at being called out like that, "Well, you seem like a chill guy and i was wondering that, you know, since I'm new and all, i don't really have any friends and i was hoping we could be friends. Most of the others at this school seem... shallow."

Stiles was taken aback. This kid, attractive, nice, and defiantly a heartthrob, wanted to be his friend? Yup hell must have froze over because not even the people who have been his friends for years wanted to be his friend.

Stiles blinked and sluggishly said, "Sure?"

West beamed and Stiles was taken back by the boys beauty and enthusiasm, "Great! Can I get your number so I can get a hold of you?"

Stiles wondered just what he'd agreed to by telling this boy he'd be his friend. Hopefully he wouldn't be like Malia or Peter. AKA overbearing.

Stiles slowlygave the new boy his number. It felt weird since he'd had no reason to use his number in the past recent months. It felt as if he was speaking a different language, like his mouth couldn't say them right.

He must have not messed up too bad because the other teen smiles at him happily.

"Thanks Stiles, I'll text you yeah?" He asked with an innocent tilt of his head. Stiles couldn't help but think he looked like Scott in that moment.

He shook his head, "Oh yeah, sure,"

West nodded and waved before going to his own car, which was a light blue Honda civic.

Stiles stared after him confused. What the hell just happened?

He shrugged to himself and got into his jeep. As he started his jeep something catches his eye. He looks out his windshield and sees Allison standing by the bike rack staring at him. She seemed fine, in a black t-shirt and jeans. Except he could see drops of blood on her jeans.

He panicked and closed his eyes, counting to twenty and back again. He opened his eyes and she no longer stood there.

His heart was beating like crazy and he could feel the sweat on the back of his neck and the watering of his eyes.

He was gripping his steering wheel so hard his hands started to ache. He rested his forehead on his knuckles and quietly weeped inside his jeep, in the school parking lot.

Not only was he not sure this was real, he was hearing voices and seeing dead people. He was going crazy! Maybe he did belong in Eichen House...

He jumped when the passenger door of his his jeep opened and someone sat in the passenger seat.

He wiped his eyes the best he could before looking up and seeing, oh great! (Sarcasm) Malia Tate in his passenger seat staring at him with an unreadable expression. He looked over his face. He was sure it looked obvious that he was crying before.

"What wrong with you?" She asks. No beating around the bush with this one, Stiles thought before breathing in and out deeply before replying.

"Well, that's a hard question to answer, considering there is a lot that could be classified as wrong in Stiles' head here," he motioned to his head with his fingers in a gun, "So you might want to be a bit more specific,"

Malia narrowed her eyes and sniffed the air, "What's that smell? It's stinks."

Stiles snorted, "Yeah well, it could be the anxiety on me or the depression, I've been told both have less than appealing scents. Onto more important matters, why are you in my room? Again?"

Malia scrunched up her nose in dislike before replying, "We're hanging out tonight."

Stiles spooked at her confused. He crossed his arms and looked at her skeptically, "Really? All of a sudden you wanna hang out with me? What about Lydia? Don't you have to 'reconnect' with your dad?"

Malia shrugged looking forward, not making his gaze, "I thought I could come to you whenever I needed,"

Stiles sighed. He'd forgotten he'd given out that invitation, "Yeah, but I meant like, if your not understanding how to work a toaster or something. Not to hang out whenever. I'm not the best of company anyway."

Malia shrugged and smiled softly, "Your better than the others."

Stiles raised an eyebrow. Malia was weird, he guessed it wasn't too bad to have her hang out. Unfortunately Peter was also coming over, and since he was her biological father... that might get a little weird.

He shrugs, hey its not any of his business, if Peter wants to tell her that he's her father, that his drama.

Stiles pulls out of the school parking lot and drives to his house. The drive silent except for the faint taunting in the back of his mind telling him, "It's all your fault."

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