Unspoken ▹ Teen Wolf [01]

015.

"I'd just like to say, that from the bottom of my heart; I sincerely don't give a fuck." Rachel twirled a loose curl as she stared blankly out the window of Stiles' jeep.

The Stilinski boy had just finished ranting to Rachel about how completely infuriated he was. Scott, of all people, had metaphorically stabbed the largest knife in existence, directly into Stiles' heart. According to him. The way Rachel understood it, was that Scott kissed Lydia.

"I've been obsessed with her since third grade." Stiles emphasized, hitting his hands off the steering wheel as he turned into the driveway of Scott's house.

"Stiles." Rachel raised a brow, unimpressed. "Why don't you save the midnight secrets for after midnight? I'd rather not fall asleep with raging teenage werewolf next door, anyways."

"Oh that reminds me." The spastic boy spoke, leaning over Rachel to reach in the glove box. After an awkward minute of digging through candy bar wrappers, CD's & papers, he pulled out a pair of silver aviators. "I got you these."

"Sunglasses?" Rachel scoffed, looking at her reflection in the mirrored lenses. "It's night."

"I was thinking about your abilities." Stiles stated, hurriedly continuing before the annoyed girl could cut him off. "You're basically a walking supernatural mirror, right? Reflecting is a two-way street, it doesn't work unless they look back at you. This way, they can't."

Rachel remained silent for a minute, pondering over the idea. Could the answer to her problems really be as simple as a stupid pair of sunglasses? She'd been trying for years to find something to prevent the uncontrollable reflecting, and nothing worked. Obviously she couldn't wear sunglasses everywhere, but if it meant not accidentally reflecting Scott.. Rachel was opt to try just about anything at this point.

The brunette hesitantly put on the sunglasses, looking at her reflection in the side mirror. With her leather jacket & dark hair, the look reminded her somewhat of how Derek dressed in the summer. Even if she did resemble her brother in more ways than one; at least she wasn't ugly.

"Not bad." Stiles gave a thumbs up, half smiling. "Now try to reflect me."

Rachel nodded, turning to face him. For the first time in a long time, she didn't feel the usual silver cloud over her eyes as she stared into Stiles'. Instead, they remained the same green colour she'd accidentally attained from Lydia earlier that day.

"Maybe your plans aren't that bad after all." Rachel smiled, looking in the side mirror one last time. "Now come on. Let's go lock up & psychologically torture your werewolf best friend."

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Rachel was less than amused by Stiles' way of entering the McCall household. While she & Derek had used the window - on more than one occasion - Stiles was logical. He used the front door.

"Scott?" Mrs. McCall called, seemingly unsurprised as she rounded the corner to see his best friend, accompanied by a strangely familiar looking girl.

"Stiles." The spastic boy nodded, nearly forgetting about Rachel until the nurse turned towards her with confusion. "And Margar..ita. Margarita. My, uh.. cousin. From Mexico."

The woman nodded, hesitant at first before noticing the metal in Stiles' hand. "Key?"

"Yeah." He nodded. "I had one made, so.."

"That doesn't surprise me." Mrs. McCall sighed. Rachel could almost relate to the woman's exhaustion with Stiles. After all, he'd just named her after an alcoholic drink. "It scares me, but it doesn't surprise me. What is that?"