Stiles trudged into Beacon Hills High School, dragging his feet with every step. He reached his top locker and fumbled with the lock. He twisted and turned it but he couldn't seem to focus. Eventually after a few trial and errors he gave up, banging his fist against the door in defeat. He rested his forehead on his forearm which was propped up on the locker. He exhales heavily and closes his tired eyes. He hasn't been getting much sleep lately.
Suddenly, he feels a hand softly touch his shoulder. His eyes shoot open and he turns on instinct to see who it is. It was Lydia. Lydia Martin.
Lydia looks concerned, "What is it this time?" She sighs.
He sighs as well and takes a step back, lowering his arms. "Uhh.. I-.. I can't open it.." He stammers.
"What is it?" She crosses her arms and exhales humorously.
"Huh?" He raises an eyebrow.
"What is your combination, Stiles?" She asks, face-palming to herself.
"Ohhhhh, right." His eyebrows raise and he smiles slightly, "38,16, 5"
Lydia turns the dial a few times and clicks down the lock with ease. She then turns, pats Stiles on the back, and whispers, "Let me know if you need someone to.. I don't know.." Her lips smack, "write your notes for you... Oh wait, I do." She snaps and she walks away, her hips swinging and curls bouncing.
*Ayee I'm Kaylee and this is the first story I'm publishing on WattPad so this is terrifying but in a good way :)
Hopefully you guys get what I mean when Lydia was saying the part about the whole 'notes' thing. She was kinda asking him 'is there anything else I can do for you that you so obviously can do yourself?' And then it becomes humorous because she does indeed write his notes (along with the rest of the pack too) *
YOU ARE READING
We Almost Made It
WerewolfWelcome to Beacon Hills. It's currently senior year of high school and the pack is doing better than ever. The thing is, it's been eerily good for too long. We all know the scale has to tip one way or the other. "It's either going to get really good...
