Witching Hour (Stiles Stilinski)

Can Stiles Stop Hitting the Jeep, Please?

This chapter is dedicated to epscabanas because you are just the sweetest.

I had just watched Parrish leave Tracy Stewart's house before Lydia and I made our way over to my car. I was happily commenting on their little exchange, but my best friend was having none of it.

"June I swear, if you don't stop talking-"

"Oh come on, Lydia, you were being a little flirty back there."

"I was not! It's just coffee," I sent a smirk over to her and she rolled her eyes, "Nothing more, nothing less."

"It's obviously something more if you're going to run and get him coffee at midnight, that's all I'm saying."

"June, June, June, you're a silly one." We drove off in the direction of my house.

I scoffed, "Did I not just hear you say, and I quote, 'We had enough credits to graduate last year. And I will bring you coffee if I want to'?"

"It would've been flirty had I opted to come alone, not bring you."

"You only did that because he said he owed us for trying to help him with figuring out what he is exactly."

"Right, so therefore, I'm not flirting."

I decided to drop the subject, as we were both too stubborn to give in to what the other was saying, and slumped in my seat, "Fine, fine. But if I'm doing this since you volunteered me, you're going to help me with something else."

"And what would that be?"

"I've been asked to apply early, but I just needed help finalizing which essays to pull for the application." We eventually made it to my house, and the sun hung low in the sky, drenching our surroundings in hues of deep pinks and oranges.

"Is this the application for Stanford? I haven't even started on that one yet." Lydia kicked off her shoes and we made our way up to my bedroom, the light from outside flooding the room, and warming up the carpet on our bare toes. I sighed, turning on a lamp next to my bed before plopping down on it. I felt Lydia fall down next to me before I blurted out what I had told no one before.

"No, it's actually for Yale."

I saw from the corner of my eye Lydia slowly sit up in realization. "Yale? What for?"

I sat up too, shrugging, "Ginny went there. She says it was one of the best places in the world, and I dunno, I think I owe it to her to kind of just apply."

"Have you told Stiles this?" I picked at the seams of my comforter, silently ignoring her question, "June!"

"No," I groaned, running my hands over my face, "No I haven't. I'm not - I'm not really taking this seriously, okay? I figured I'd apply for Ginny's sake, not really anything else."

"But what if you get in? I mean, Yale has the top library science program in the country."

"It has not escaped my attention," I muttered, letting Lydia discover my conflict rather than just admit it out loud.

"Is that what you've decided on? You want to be a historical archivist?"

"Lydia, I haven't even gotten into a college yet, let's take it one step at a time." I grabbed my laptop from my backpack and placed it on my bed, "Stanford is still my top pick. I just want this out of my hair."

"Then why do you need my help with an application that you're not even fully on board with?"

"Because Lydia, I might not be invested one hundred percent, but I'm not going to half-ass an application to Yale. Could you imagine what they would think of me if I didn't show them my full potential?"