𝐁𝐎𝐑𝐃𝐄𝐑𝐋𝐈𝐍𝐄 | stiles stilinski ✔️

fourteen

It was the first weekend of May and for some reason the mall was packed. Harper, Lydia and Malia sat around in a coffee shop, glancing out of the window as dozens of teenagers walked around, bags looped through their arms while they chattered away to their friends.

The Empath raised her eyebrows at a girl she recognised from her maths class seemingly having a breakdown over something in her Macy's bag.

"It's so busy today..." She noted, peeling her eyes from the ocean of bodies and back to the quiet cafe they'd chosen to stop and eat in.

Malia nodded in agreement, lifting her muffin up to her lips and taking one of the biggest bites Harper had ever seen. She chuckled at her friend as the werecoyote's cheeks began to fill up like chipmunks would. Lydia rolled her forest eyes in amusement, grabbing a napkin from the table and handing it to Malia.

"Wonder why," the strawberry blonde mused, starting to stir her scolding drink with her spoon. Lydia dipped her finger into some of the whipped cream, licking it off.

Harper shrugged back, absentmindedly scrolling through her emails. The three girls had decided to go on a shopping trip that weekend since the boys were all busy and they had nothing better to do.

The Wild Hunt had only been over for about a month now, and nobody in Beacon Hills, apart from the pack, of course, could remember it. Everything had just gone back to how it was before.

The brunette took a sip of her coffee just as her eyes landed on an email from the school. Her brows furrowed together and she clicked on it, her eyes bulging at the attachment that had popped straight up in bold, maroon lettering.

'LAST CHANCE TO BUY TICKETS FOR SENIOR PROM'.

Harper started to choke on her coffee, Lydia quickly patting her back until it went down. She coughed, clearing her throat as she shoved her phone in the faces of her friends. Malia read the screen slowly, not seeming too bothered about what it said, however, Lydia gasped loudly, catching the attention of a few customers sitting around them.

"We forgot about senior prom!" Lydia hissed, slapping on her friends' arms for their attention.

Harper's face had pulled down into a frown, "that's why it's so busy; everybody's shopping for their dresses and suits."

"What's the big deal?" Malia groaned, rolling her dark eyes. "It's just a dance."

"The last one we'll ever have," Lydia huffed, wearing an annoyed expression when she saw how out of touch the were-coyote was. "This is a really big deal, okay? We missed the junior one because of the supernatural, we are not missing senior prom."

"I don't think the boys have even remembered," the Empath sighed as she turned her head back out of the window, watching a couple of senior girls sit on a bench and pull out the longest heels she had ever seen.

Malia shook her head, "it's probably just slipped past their heads like it did ours."

Surprisingly, the girls couldn't be more wrong. In fact, back in at the McCall household, it looked as if a bomb had gone off on the kitchen table.

"Do you think she'll even want to go with me?" Isaac pestered Scott and Stiles for the hundredth time that afternoon, peering over the Stilinski boy's shoulder.

He was cutting some golden card out in the shape of a star, but it looked terribly wonky. Scott was attempting bubble writing on a separate piece of paper, helping his best friend since Stiles had insisted that two pairs of hands were quicker than one.

In their case, Isaac would have liked to beg to differ. These boys had fought of Alpha packs, gotten possessed by demons, survived a Deadpool, but they couldn't even work around scissors and pens.