Discovering Catwoman ▷ Stiles Stilinski [Book 2]

Chapter Seven>>

"She wanted something to happen - something, anything: she did not know what."

- Kate Chopin
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Chapter Seven >> Jenn's POV

Awkward.

That is the only word I could use to describe the ride from the animal clinic to the ice rink.

Stiles had picked up Scott and I since Mama McCall needed the car. Not only did Stiles and I touch hands three times trying to switch the radio station but Scott, the gentleman that he is, volunteered to sit in the back so I could sit next to Stiles.

I shot him many death glares.

Once we pulled up I immediately lunged out of the car, the feeling of suffocation lifting from my lungs.

Scott patted me on the back as he walked up to Allison, leaving Lydia and I by the car while Stiles unlocked the door.

"What did she bribe you with?" Lydia muttered causing me to raise my brow.

"You're getting something out of this?"

She nodded. "Yeah, free spa day."

I let out a scoff. "Of course."

Lydia cocked her head at me. "Are you feeling alright?"

Now it was my turned to be confused. Did I look sick or something? "Yeah why?"

"Nothing, you just, you seem more irritated than usual." Yeah, well, this isn't how I wanted to spend my night.

"No, I'm fine." I encouraged her walking straight pass a very prideful Stiles as I smiled taking in all of the glory of the rink.

One thing to know about me: I love ice rinks.

Not just because of hockey but because I love to skate. It was one of the traditions with my mom when I was little.

Lydia and I found a seat on the bleachers after we had grabbed a pair of skates. Being the awkward spaz that he is Stiles plopped himself down next to Lydia.

Let the torture begin.

"Could it be any colder in here?" I muttered pulling my cardigan over my gloves. Shuffling was heard to the side of me and an orange sweater was shoved into my face.

Lydia's perfectly manicured hand snatched the bright colored fabric before I could reach it. "She's wearing blue."

Even I raised my brow in confusion so she explained.

"Orange and blue, not a good combination."

Stiles was flabbergasted. "But that's the colors of the Met's."

I snorted. "Yeah, that's not helping."

His eyes narrowed. "What's that suppose to mean?"

I shrugged. "I don't watch baseball unless I'm at the actual stadium and when was the last time the Met's even came close to going to The World Series?"

He gaped like an open mouth fish. "That is not the point--"

"Enough talk about sports!" Lydia grumbled tightening the laces on her skates. Stiles rolled his eyes shoving the sweater back into his backpack.

But when his hands came back up they, again, had something orange in them; two packets of recess.

Lydia stared at it for a couple seconds before shrugging her shoulders grabbing it. Stiles held out the other one to me and I cautiously slipped it away from him, not daring to look him in the eye.