Suffer (Sterek Love Story)

Stressed Out

     The thrum of the engine filled the car, a constant purr in my ears as I drove to my best friend, Scott McCall, house. The trees were lining either side of the road, the branches hanging over the cement, daring a car eight feet in height to test their windshield strength.

     The slight tempo of Shawn Mendes' 'Summer of Love' was playing, which was the most ironic song ever for me. This was the most unloving summer I was ever going to experience. My ex, Lydia, broke up with me a week before graduation, which led to a sad summer playlist on my end. The radio was my enemy since everything was upbeat and all love-dovey, but since my phone died on the way to Scott's I was forced to succumb to this station.

     "And for a couple of months, it felt like we were eighteen." Shawn sang in the inhumanly angelic voice that he had. I started to tap my fingers against the steering wheel, feeling the song starting in my throat as I began to hum. My fingers slapped the power button as I started the silent part of my journey. I wasn't sure how long I road like that until I saw the turn that led to the lonely little house in-between the endless sea of trees.

     I kept thinking to myself about what I wanted to tell Scott as an excuse for being all MIA this whole summer. He's been blowing up my phone and I've been blowing him off nonstop. I was pulling into his driveway as I kept fumbling through my mind for any excuse that wasn't as lame as I got dumped. 

     I didn't have any time to come up with a plausible excuse because as soon as I turned the car off the door swung open. The automatic porch light turned on, illuminating some pale dark-haired Abercrombie and Finch model that was nowhere near my best friend. I was a bit dumb founded about the fact that I was not able to find the freaking house without my phone with me. I was trying to decide through my mental dispute on whether or not I should get out the car and ask the baby Superman if I was in the right place or try my luck and find out on my own. Did serial killers live in the middle of the woods or were they more of a live in the city near their victims? 

     "Scott, there's some clueless dumbass in a shitty Honda looking for you." He screamed over his shoulder. I looked around and then I remembered I had the shitty Honda. That fucker just called me clueless.

     I threw both of my favorite birds up at him and he smiled surprisingly as he turned around to go inside. Less than a minute later Scott's messy brown hair and his crooked goofy smile was in the doorway as he smiled that crooked smile he always does.  He bounced off the stairs, running towards me, opening the door and pulling me into a hug. 

     "Well part of me wants to punch you in the head for not speaking to me this whole summer, but it's alright, I know." He whispered, petting my head like a lost puppy. I pushed him away from me, trying my hardest not to laugh as he grabbed my bags and led me into the open doorway.

     "Alright, so I was thinking we could binge through the whole Star Wars collection. Disney plus has them all and you always mention Ahsoka and I have no idea who she really is." 

     I shook my head at my best friend. His total lack of knowledge for anything culturally relevant in the world was astounding by all means, however his energy was suspiciously high even for him.

     "Are we just going to skip over that gigantic wildebeest of a roomie of yours calling me clueless?" I asked him, thinking about whether or not I should grab my bat out of my trunk.

     "Are we just going to skip over the fact that he also called you a dumbass?" He asked back. 

     "What about the fact that he can clearly hear you?" The subhuman being asked from the other room.

     "We can change that!" I called back to him.

     Scott looked at me with confusion as he led me to the spare room. "What did that even mean?" He asked me, tossing my bags next to the bed that was secured in the lefthand corner of the room. I shrugged my shoulders at him, and he just started to shake his head, leaning back on the bed for a bit. "Please don't fight my roommate though, it's kind of peaceful."

      "Kind of?" I raised an eyebrow at that statement. Did I really need to get the bat?

       "I mean argument wise, yes. He's actually a bit of a dick, like a major one, but he pays rent on time and he's really good with sports so at least I have a bit of a workout buddy. Not much of a conversationalist unless it's saying something incredibly rude." He sighed, running his hand through his hair. He was letting it grow out which gave him the mixed appearance of a skater and a greasy hobo, though I'd never voice that opinion aloud.

     "Sheesh, two weeks with that, what could possibly go wrong?" I said, staring at the window opposite from my bed. It was fairly dark outside and with the abundance of trees the view was only darker and grimmer looking. 

     "So, about that Disney plus marathon?"

     "Is there a reason you're trying to distract me with a never-ending Star Wars marathon? Did you speak to Lydia about the breakup?" I asked him.

     Scott shot upright, giving me a shocked expression that was impossible to tell if it was legitimate or not. "Wait, when did this happen?"

     "Scott stop playing around, you obviously know about Lydia and I." I said blankly. "It's cool, she dumped me for some older guy, who cares. Everyone knows you have a thirty percent chance of staying with your high school sweetheart. I didn't make the cut, life happens. We're just giving each other some space for now until we can talk about it." 

     "Totally didn't know that but wow, damn, so y'all haven't talked at all?" He said, humming to himself. "So, wait, you've been depressed or something?"

     "Sound like it." A voice came from the doorway.

     "God dammit, how are you that big and that silent!?!" I screamed at him, clutching my chest in an effort to get my heart to calm down. 

     "I don't think wallowing in self-pity about how incompetent you are as a partner is a good thing, in fact it just makes you look a bit more pathetic."

     "Seriously, can we turn down the asshole level just like by ten?" I said, staring at him. He shrugged his shoulders, leaning against the wall and staring back at me.

     "Why, would being nice to you actually change the fact that you got dumped?" He asked me.

     "Nah, but it will make you at least a bit more tolerable and people wouldn't have to avoid you like you're monkey pox or something." I shot back at him. I heard the sharp intake of breath from him, his dark eyebrows furrowing as his eyes went a different shade of green. "Aw, did actually telling you about how undesirable your personality is bothering you?" 

     "No just that sound emitting from your throat." He said with a smirk.

    "Asshole."

     "Crybaby."

     "Guys!" Scott interrupted. We both looked at him, trying to hold his laughter in as he switched his gaze back and forth between us. 

     "Whatever, are we having this Star Wars marathon or not?" He asked us. 

     "Wait, so the gym rat is the one who wanted to watch Star Wars." I asked aloud.

     "Hey!" Scott called out, reminding me that he was a frequent visitor of gyms himself.

     "Derek." He spoke. I raised an eyebrow and he repeated himself. "Derek Hale."

     "Stiles Stilinski." I replied with my own name.

     "That is the dumbest fucking name I've ever heard." 

      "Star Wars it is!" Scott called, shooting up from the bed and going towards what I assumed was the living room. I tried to hide my annoyance as I shoved my way past the brick house of a man, instantly regretting slamming my shoulder into him. He let out a light chuckle as I winced and he backed away, giving me slightly more room through the doorframe. I rolled my eyes at his triumphant face, though if it was from finally beginning the long-awaited Star Wars marathon, or from getting under my skin.