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“It’s not about you,” Stiles says, not unkindly, shrugging as he moves fries around on his mostly empty plate in front of him. Scott feels his head tilt questioningly as a reflex, seeing the dog joke on Stiles tongue, even as he stuffs the last few fries in to stop it.
Isaac launches a purple skittle down the table at that moment, and Kira’s jaw snaps at the other end to catch it. They laugh, before she motions for him to throw another one. Allison rolls her eyes at them and turns back to her textbook.
“It’s about the pack,” Stiles finishes, mouth almost empty again.
Liam launches a paper airplane down the table next, Erica snatching it out of the air and unfolding it. She and Boyd move in sync grabbing two of Allison’s pens and doodling on the paper before refolding it and launching it back down the table to where Liam and Mason are waiting for it. Hayden watches unimpressed as they add to the more-than-likely immature sketch of their new English teacher. No one seems to like him. Malia snatches it before they fold it and gives them a disapproving look.
“It’s not like I asked the Harpies to move into the north half of the town,” Scott insists, wondering if anyone is paying attention to their conversation.
Lydia gives him an unimpressed look, but her fingers halfway through a text, body turned away from where Jackson sits next to her with his headphones as loud as they’ll go. “You don’t have to ask, Scott.” she tells him, “It’s what you are that draws them.”
“Yeah,” Stiles insists, “And that’s why we should work on keeping our heads down. The nematon’s influence has been settling, you heard Deaton.”
Danny plops down at the end of the table, next to Isaac, Allison smiles at him from across the table and from Isaac’s other side, Lydia leans forward to ask him something.
“Settling doesn’t mean the next big thing isn’t coming,” Scott hears himself argue softly, even as Stiles continues to pin him with a look. Erica’s uses his shoulder as a lever to stand and snatches his now empty tray from in front of him, as she leaves the table with both of them.
“But if we’re not looking for it,” Stiles says, sighs, looking like he wants to believe it himself, “Maybe it’ll find somewhere else to venture.”