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“I don’t know man, this whole chimera business is really sketching me out. Why would someone do that to a kid? I mean I guess the whole werewolf business tends to be just kids too…although, is there any research on that? Like, are werewolves majorly kids—er—I guess teens? Or are we—well, you all—some kid of anomaly? Are most packs actually all adults?” Stiles begins rambling on to his best friend after they had gone to the Stilinski’s to work on homework together. Scott just stares blankly at his friend—wow, he had thought so much more about this than he had himself.
“I feel like…I mean, I guess that like…Okay, I actually have no clue. Never really thought about the fact that we could potentially be one in a million…Well there was Deucalion’s pack, they were mostly adults! But there was Ethan and Aiden…But that also different than us, cause we’re almost entirely teens…Scratch that, we are entirely teens…My head hurts. Let’s just get back to this weird chimera thing going on. So they’re combinations of multiple creatures, and when they bleed they don’t bleed blood, they bleed…I don’t even know! Why can’t we just have normal, easy problems? Why is my life harder than AP Biology? It’s ridiculous, honestly,” Scott finishes, then flops back onto his friend’s bed, stressed,defeated and exhausted.
“Your personal problems aside, I feel like the black blood-goo stuff has to mean something. People bleed blood, werewolves bleed blood, banshees bleed blood, all creatures bleed blood as far as we know. All human creatures. Maybe these creatures aren’t actually made from humans? Maybe they’re like…synthetic humanoids created for the sole purpose of fucking shit up?” Stiles finishes speaking, raising his eyebrow and resting his chin in the back of the chair he has perched himself on, backwards of course.
“I mean…that’s possible, but…Then how did Tracy, like, exist? Ya know? Like uh…how did people know who she was? Do you think that the memories of her were synthetic too?” Scott ponders out loud, sitting up in the bed to lean forward and put his face in his hands, trying to rub the sleepiness out of his eyes. Maybe someday they would figure it all out and he could get a decent night’s rest.
“No you’re right…I don’t know, I just keep thinking about something Lydia said the other day, when we were over here trying to figure everything out,” Stiles trails off then, standing up and turning around to search through a pile of notebook papers on his desk.
“Speaking of Lydia, what do you think is the deal with her and Parrish? Do you find it a little odd how much time they’ve been spending together? Like I know he’s been super helpful, but still. I just can’t get over that whole age difference thing though like she’s not even out of high school yet, and—Stiles, are you even listening?” Scott asks Stiles, who has yet to acknowledge that he had been talking.
“Yeah, I am. Just not a topic I’m interested in is all,” he says, still not turning around from his search for whatever it was he was looking for.
“Why? I mean, she’s our friend, it’s worth noticing if she—oh. No way, dude. Are you still hung up on her?” Scott realizes, and that gets the other boy’s attention. He freezes a little, then turns around finally.
“I just can’t shake her, man. I mean, I’m in love with her. I have been for God only knows how long. I can’t just stop loving someone,” he tells Scott, with one hand on his hip while the other rubs his forehead. Scott sighs in response, then stands up and puts a hand on his shoulder.
“Stiles. Seriously. It’s time. Malia is super cool and you guys are great together. You need to see that what you felt for Lydia was never actually love. And I’ve played along with it for so long, but…You just don’t understand. There’s a difference between love and lust, and I think you’re getting confused about—”
“No, Scott. You don’t understand. You still see me as that little third grader hopelessly chasing a girl with pretty red curls. But it’s so much more than that now. I’m in love with her,” Stiles cuts him off, a fierce confidence in his voice.
“Stiles, I just—I don’t—I need you to listen to me, really listen. You aren’t in love, you just think she’s pretty and popular and now you’re older so you think it must be real but…is there even anything real to it?” Scott questions, then sits back down on the bed. There’s a moment of silence, and he feels accomplished that he finally got through. But then…
“Yes, she’s pretty, and popular. But that’s just the tip of the iceberg, my friend. Sure she comes off as arrogant, but that’s just confidence. She knows what she wants and she knows she’s good at what she does. She walks with a purpose, like she’s going where she wants to go and there’s nothing you can do to stop her. And when she talks—god, the way she talks. She never has to ask for your attention because something about her voice just demands it. And I love the way she wears whatever the hell she wants, because she cares about her appearance but she doesn’t give a shit how you feel about it. And she’s so sure of herself—she doesn’t let a man, or anyone for that matter, define her. She’s just her. But that doesn’t mean she doesn’t care about anyone—god, no. She cares so deeply, so fiercely for her friends and family. That girl would die if it meant saving her mother, there’s not a doubt in my mind. Hell, she even almost died saving the two of us! Not to mention Allison…And she’s just an absolute fucking genius. It’s unfair, really. Have you ever seen her actually think about an answer in class? No, because she doesn’t need to think about that math problem, she already knows the answer. And the next one, and the one after that, and the trick question the teacher will ask to try to stump her—which I’ll never understand because let’s be honest they’re never going to. The only thing that really stumps her is the supernatural, and that’s just because nobody really knows anything about it. Btu I’ll be damned if that girl isn’t the first to really get it right. You should see the face she makes when she’s working out a supernatural situation. She’s so focused, so interested. It’s the first thing that has ever really challenged her and so naturally she needs to conquer it. I fall in love a little more every time we’re working together to figure something out. And when she comes up with an idea she makes this face where she opens her mouth a little bit, and when you see that face you just know something incredible is about to happen. And—Scott—you don’t understand. The way this girl talks to me. She challenges me. She rolls her eyes and fights my idiotic comments with sarcasm. Scott. I swear to you this girl was made for me. I’m so happy when she’s happy and I’m upset when she’s upset. But she does this thing when she’s upset or confused where she presses her lips together, and I can’t explain to you why I love it so much. I love everything about her. And I notice every little thing about her. Sorry I’ve rambled on for so long, but…What I’m trying to say here is…Look. Scott, I’m in love with Lydia Martin. And it’s the realest thing I’ve ever felt.”
By the end of his speech, Stiles is red in the face and out of breath and Scott is sitting with his mouth open dumbly, unsure how to respond. He had no idea. He thought she was just some unattainable girl he wanted to chase for the fun of it, like when they were 7 and Stiles spent 4 hours trying to win the big dinosaur at the carnival because he just had to have it, even if he knew it was practically impossible.
“Okay…okay I get it. I never knew that before…I guess I just thought…I don’t know. Wow. I guess it really is different now.”