The Wild Side | Stiles Stilinski | One

5 - It's My Party, So...

When we arrived at the Martin household, it was to find that Natalie's cherry red car was gone. I frowned at the empty spot as Lydia jogged up the steps, her car chirping behind her as she locked the doors.

"Where's the Mom Squad?" I asked, juggling my backpack with the three shopping bags Lydia had asked me to grab from the back.

"Taking the night off! I think they went to the city for dinner and a show. They're staying overnight."

"And did they plan this before or after you decided to throw me a welcome party?"

Lydia feigned surprise as she unlocked the front door. "Why, Scarlett! What are you implying?"

She could only maintain the straight face for a few seconds as I stared at her.

"Okay, so I might have given them a little push out of the house, but they know we're having people over! And Jackson's going to stay the night."

"Joy."

Lydia shoved me into the house, grabbing my shoulders the moment I stepped past and steering me into the kitchen. She grabbed one of the packages from my hands and began pulling out bags upon bags of chips while I shoved the sodas into the fridge.

"You know," Lydia's voice said slyly, "that means you'd be more than welcome to keep someone over too."

I choked out a laugh, glancing over my shoulder. "You're joking, right?"

"Why not?" she replied innocently. "We'll have the house to ourselves, and you have to do it eventually."

"Not happening, Lydia."

"Oh, come on! Dylan Peters seems pretty interested in you!"

"Yeah, and I'm pretty interested in getting him neutered for the good of the human race."

Lydia paused to consider this, her head cocked to the side. "Fair point."

Still, she continued to push the subject. It was a repetitive conversation, one we'd been having for the better part of the summer. I had been in town all of six weeks before Lydia started trying to set me up with someone. She'd started with the lacrosse team, all of whom I had vetoed twice over. I'd hoped that would be the end of it, but then Lydia had started branching out. She kept inviting acceptable suitors to beach trips or group outings at the diner. I didn't hate any of them—well, except Dylan—but I also didn't plan on dating any time soon. I just wasn't ready for something like that.

Thankfully as seven o'clock grew closer and closer, Lydia had to drop the subject. The first step of party prep was precautionary measures, taking everything off every surface so it couldn't get damaged or stolen.

"So just put stuff away?" I clarified.

"Yes. You can put the little stuff in the lower cabinets—people don't usually disturb those—but everything else needs to go upstairs in the extra guest room. Jackson's picking up Danny, and I am going to—"

Her sentence was cut off as her tiny dog, Prada, pranced into the kitchen. Lydia cooed, scooping up the ball of fur and scratching him behind the ears.

"Aw, yeah, Prada wants to party too! Well, sweetie, you can't. Don't want you running around when the house is full of strangers who could step on you. So! We are going to go upstairs and finalize wardrobe and music, and Scarlett can get started on this!"

I nodded, trying not to feel too bitter about the fact that Lydia was straight up addressing the dog instead of me, or the fact that I was going to be climbing up and down the stairs doing manual labor while she flicked through her closet.