The Wild Side | Stiles Stilinski | One

16 - Benefit Of The Doubt

"Uh, Scarlett!" Stiles called after me as I stormed towards the Jeep. My even determination and quiet fuming had put him on edge, and he was clearly a little frightened. "I—I already told you that—that I can't exactly tell you—"

"Unlock the car."

"Scarlett—"

"Stiles," I said firmly, hand on the passenger door. "Unlock. The car."

Stiles looked at me pleadingly, but I continued to stare him down until he fished the keys out of his pocket and unlocked the Jeep.

"Thank you."

I tossed my bags onto the floor and hauled myself up into the passenger seat. I had to twist a little to get my seatbelt on and the door closed, but after a minute or two, I managed it on my own. Stiles was too busy fretting to offer me any assistance, fidgeting in the driver's seat and drumming his fingers on the steering wheel.

"Stiles, this is the part where you turn the car on and drive out of the parking lot."

"I get that, thank you," he snapped. "Scarlett, I...I know you really want to know what's going on, but it's just...it's better if you don't, and I'm really not the one you should be talking to."

"You're the only one I can talk to," I rebutted. "Derek seems to think it has to come from one of you, and Scott's still MIA. I'm not sure if he'd tell me anyway. But you were there last night, Stiles. You saw what happened, and you know better than anyone that I deserve to know."

He groaned, pitching forward in his seat to rest his head against the steering wheel. I let him mull it over for a minute, mumbling under his breath. Then I pulled my trump card.

"If you come over I'll let you talk to Lydia. You can ask her about last night and make sure she's okay yourself."

Stiles looked up from the steering wheel, the red indent on his forehead making his glare a little less intimidating. "You're an evil woman, you know that?"

"I do. Now drive."

We stared at each other for a few solid seconds before he gave in, starting the car with too much force and jerkily pulling out of the space.

Stiles squirmed the entire drive to the house, his leg bouncing anxiously, which was seriously affecting his steering. I smacked him once or twice, trying to get him to stop, but it would only take a few seconds before he was at it again. It was a relief when he finally pulled up to the curb.

As much as he didn't want to be there, Stiles still jumped out of the car first, coming around to the passenger side to open the door for me and help me down to the ground. He took my books and my bag and then followed me up to the house.

The moment I stepped through the door, Natalie was swooping down on me with worry.

"Scarlett! You're home early. Are you alright? Did something happen at school? How are you feeling?"

"I'm fine, Natalie," I assured her as she pulled me into a hug. "It was just a long day. I didn't feel like answering anymore questions, and my head was starting to hurt. I didn't want to push it."

"Good. Your health comes first, before anything else. And this is...?"

She was peering over my shoulders at Stiles, who was hovering at the door looking like a very antsy pack mule. He lifted my backpack by way of waving, face splitting to a too-wide smile.

"Uh, Natalie, this is my friend Stiles Stilinski. He drove me home. Stiles, this is Lydia's mom."

"Yeah, uh, hey, Mrs. Martin. Nice to meet you."