Burn It Down || Stilinski || Book One

Four

"WE NEED TO GO TO THAT PARTY."

The Stilinski boy paced around his room while Sierra watched him with her chin resting against her palms. She bit her lip as he ran through scenarios of what could go wrong, raising his anxiety, which worsened her nerves.

"Stiles?"

"He could kill somebody," he mumbled angrily, his feet shuffling along the carpet. "He won't let us help; I just don't understand why."

"I don't think he wants to believe it," Sierra said.

Stiles finally turned around and looked at her. "What?"

"Stiles, he had a point," Sierra stated. "He made first line, and Allison is a pretty cool girl who agreed to go out with him. He doesn't want anything to ruin it, and let's be real, our theory isn't all that great."

Stiles stuttered, but she lifted her hand to let him know she wasn't done.

She asked, "How would you feel if your life turned upside down because you discovered you got bit by a werewolf?"

He sighed, defeated because he knew his best friend was right. "All I want to do is help."

Sierra thought for a second before standing up to put on her sandals. "Then we'll help."

"Huh?"

"We're going to the party," Sierra stated, making the boy grin. "Get dressed and meet me in five minutes."

*^*^*^*^*^*

"Sierra, hurry up!"

Sierra grumbled and slipped her jacket on to cover her bare shoulders. They were going to a party, and even though it was to get Scott, she wanted to look the part. She opened her bedroom door and ran down the steps to meet Stiles, who impatiently waited in the living room. "How do I look?"

Stiles glanced up from his phone and widened his eyes as she did a cute twirl in her gray dress. "W-wow," he grinned. "You look stunning."

"Well, thank you," Sierra smiled, brushing by him to grab her cell lying on the coffee table. She winced when she saw five missed calls from Allison; they had exchanged numbers during lacrosse tryouts, and Sierra went to her house to help her unpack before talking to Stiles. And even though they didn't know each other super well, five calls usually meant an emergency.

Stiles,  dressed in a red button-down shirt and a jacket, watched Sierra from the door. His arms crossed over his chest as he leaned against the wall.

"I'm sorry I didn't answer," Sierra apologized to her new friend, who answered on the first ring and twirled a piece of hair between her fingers. "What did you need?"

"Oh, it's fine," Allison brushed it off. "I just need help deciding what to wear on my date with Scott. He's coming in five minutes, and I still don't know what to do."

Sierra's blue eyes landed on Stiles and glared at him when she saw him tapping his foot and motioning towards his Jeep outside. He sighed when she shook her head and refocused on Allison.

"Well, how are you wearing your hair?"

"Down, and it's kind of wavy," the new girl answered and looked around her room, now littered with clothes previously hung in her closet. Allison groaned and rubbed her temple; she was too nervous for this evening, and being stressed about clothes did not help.

"When I was helping you unpack, you showed me this cute navy cardigan," Sierra replied, piecing an outfit together in her mind. "Wear that with a button-down white shirt and jeans and whatever shoes you are comfortable dancing in."