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Summary
He wasn’t going to go.
He wasn’t.
But then he saw the flyer, the little half-sheet of paper with Derek’s name in simple block letters against a silhouette of a howling wolf, the one that Allison had given him earlier, the one she said Derek gave her to give to him.
She left it face down on his coffee table, tucked under the ashtray that Derek bought him from the glassblowing studio they visited on the coast a couple of months ago when they rented a secluded cottage on the beach and Derek had tried to teach him how to surf.
He’d recognize Derek’s handwriting anywhere, has seen it on countless bar napkins and scraps of paper with fragments of lyrics strewn in his blocky, aggressive hand. He stared at the back of the flyer for a long time.
Stiles -I’m sorry. I just –
Come tonight. Please.- D.
He's out the door in a heartbeat.
Series
- Part 2 of If I Played You My Favorite Song