The Wild Side | Stiles Stilinski | One

35 - Shoot Your Shot

The time had come, and I still didn't want to do it.

Thursday afternoon found me sitting in Allison's bedroom. We were both perched on her bed, staring on my phone, lying on the blankets as it had been for the last ten minutes. I reached for it, then retracted my hand again.

"I can't. I can't do it. Why can you do it?"

"No," Allison replied sternly. "I'm not calling him because this wasn't my idea. If you want Stiles to go to formal with Lydia, you're gonna tell him that."

"But he thinks she's doing you a favor! It's weird if I call him to tell him that Lydia's doing a favor for you! How does that make any sense?!"

"Well you could always tell him the truth..."

I groaned and flopped back on the mattress. I couldn't do that. I wasn't going to tell Stiles that I liked him. I wasn't going to tell him that I was forcing everyone to go along with this master plan I'd orchestrated to make him happy. It was one thing for him to think I'd gracefully bowed out. I didn't want him to know I was pulling the strings. He didn't need to talk I cared that much.

"On the other hand, you don't have to tell him anything at all," Allison reminded me gently. "Stiles doesn't know yet, and neither does Lydia. The only people who do are you, me, and Scott."

I folded my arms over my face. Scott. I'd certainly gotten an earful from him. Allison had taken my advice and gone to talk to him, right before the night went to shit when Peter interfered. She hadn't gotten around to talking about her dad, but apparently she'd had plenty of time to gossip about me and Stiles and how frustrated she was with me.

Scott hadn't gotten the chance to lecture me right away. Saturday had only gone further down the tubes after Stiles dropped me off. Scott had run off to save Jackson, who'd been cornered by Derek at the Hale house. Then the Argents had shown up, shot up the building, and Scott had taken a bullet to the stomach. Jackson had made it out okay, unfortunately, and Scott had managed to crawl all the way to the animal clinic for help from his boss, but no one had heard from Derek. Best we could guess, the Argents had him, and were interrogating him about the Alpha...

Despite all that colossally bad news, Scott still found time to annoy me about Stiles. He passed me aggressive notes in class, hounded me between periods, even showed up to the library to argue with me while I was at work. I was almost thankful he'd misplaced his second phone. If he had the power to text me, I'm sure I wouldn't have been allowed to sleep.

Scott maintained that the "bro code" prevented him from giving me specifics, but that Stiles genuinely wanted to take me to formal, and would be disappointed if I backed out. Every time, I came back with the same response: Stiles didn't have to go to formal with Lydia. If he really wanted to take me, he could always decline Allison's offer. That, of course, had worried Scott. We both knew there wasn't a chance in the universe that Stiles would turn Lydia down.

"No," I sighed, sitting up on Allison's bed once more. "I have to do this."

I stood up, grabbing the phone and taking a deep breath as I scrolled through my contacts. I found Stiles's name and hesitated. Then I started the call and began pacing anxiously around the end of Allison's bed.

"Beacon Hills Lycanthrope Expert, what's your query?"

Despite the nerves in my stomach, I smirked. "Now, hang on. I thought that was me."

"My apologies," Stiles chuckled. "What's up, Bennet?"

"Well, Stilinski..."

Allison pouted on the bed. For some reason, she'd always found it adorable that Stiles and I referred to each other by our last names. At the moment, she couldn't stand to hear our flirtations.