Summer's Darling

• Chapter One •

Something about this summer might actually ruin Stiles and he's sure it's because of Isaac Lahey.

Summer meant a seven hour drive in a small vehicle with his father: a tradition they never passed up. They left their home town of Beacon hills for nearly three months, heading down to the coast where their beach home awaited patiently. Stiles' friends hadn't always attended but Noah Stilinski had become a little more lenient on the "family only" rule when he realized that their family was exclusively only the two of them and ran out of things to talk about quickly. The topic usually revolved around school and how Stiles was avoiding it. Anyway, his son enjoyed these long hot months better with his friends. Their beach house once belonged to Stiles' grandparents, on his mother's side, and once they had died, it then belonged to the Stilinski's and would continue to be passed down the line until the beach front house was only nails and wooden planks. Stiles swore one day he'd just live there forever.

This month in particular marked the end of their junior year and the beginning of their final journey through high school. It was a last hooray, freedom tugging their ears forward. Scott cursed under himself up in the front seat, causing Stiles' eyes to drift from the movie he'd been sharing with Isaac on his phone. The boys in the backseat had brought other means of entertainment; Isaac had an old game boy and a Rubik's cube he hadn't even touched. Stiles always downloaded a few movies and brought a backpack full of books. Scott had textbooks. He's studied hard to get into a private university and is expected to get his acceptance letter early as long as he maintains a perfect 4.0 gpa during his senior year. He marks numerous pages in his book with sticky tabs and mutters a name under his breath that makes Stiles' ribs hurt.

"Lydia better know half of this shit."

And she would, Stiles told himself. The girl was only a year younger than them but, was wise enough to be three years ahead. Scott had always been a little jealous of how easy school had come for her. Lydia, the fiery little girl who lived three houses down from his beach house all year round. Except a few years ago, Lydia wasn't a little girl anymore. Stiles clearly remembered, at the age of fourteen, when his friend was someone to no longer throw sand at; a young woman who hand acquired certain developments. She was still the same girl, he had no doubt, especially when he made jokes that she deemed sexist and ultimately scolded him for. But curves replaced what had once been skin that was straight as a board and he found himself tripping over his own tongue a little too much. Two days before he had to leave to go home for school, he had made Lydia his first kiss. And she was his summer fling ever since.

Stiles nudged Isaac awake as they finally pulled into the driveway and as soon as the car was parked, he leapt out of the vehicle and sprinted down the road. Three houses down, the one with the blue door specifically, and he had shouted her name as loud as he could the whole run there so she knew to be waiting for him. And sure enough, she was grinning at the end of her driveway, arms open for him to jump into. It was always as though time never passed, as if the school year hadn't existed and there was only here and now and Lydia. She was already murmuring into his ear that the carnival was in town. He hummed, practically tasting the cotton candy on her tongue and he couldn't wait to throw her back into the ocean.
"You colored your hair?" He was still trying to catch his breath from the run, sighing and gulping in oxygen a little desperately.
She shrugged, smiling. He hadn't changed a bit but, there was always something new about her: a new language she had learned, a new hair color, a new moral but never a new Lydia entirely. "It's just a few blonde streaks."
"And you lost weight, are you eating alright?"
"I'm eating," she giggled, "I took up Yoga."
"Very zen." He joked and threw his arm across her shoulders, leading them back down the road to his house. There was no need to go back inside and tell her parents where she would be, the Martins had heard her name just as clearly as she had.