the butterfly effect;
(with reference to chaos theory) the phenomenon whereby a minute localized change in a complex system can have large effects elsewhere.
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In which she is sent to another world.
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[Book 1 in the Lorenz System Serie...
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We need everything permanent in a temporary life.
—Unknown
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Sarah Williams is indeed stuck with Stiles Stilinski and his incessant prodding.
For the entire car ride.
She's tried to thank him for what he'd done in Ms. Blake's classroom—more than once!—and all he's done is basically shut her down.
"You know, just because I helped you doesn't mean I suddenly trust you now." Stiles's bronze irises glint under the light of the sun pouring in from the Jeep's windows, his petulant scowl still firmly in place.
"Didn't ask you to," she mumbles back, textbooks still clutched tightly against her chest like a protective barrier against his prickly attitude.
The greenery of Beacon Hills is bright, yet somehow still gives a feeling of odd dreariness. It flies past her weary vision in a blur of differing colors as Stiles's blue Jeep flies down the road.
"A-And just because I'm driving you to Derek's house doesn't mean we're, like, friends or anything."
"God forbid the thought," she mutters under her breath.
A scowl forms as she rips her backpack off her shoulders, deciding to go about roughly shoving her textbooks back inside of it.
Stiles sends her a sharp look for her retort, but doesn't say anything further for several seconds.
Finally, when the tension thickens to the point a damn knife could cut through it, Sarah's voice finally mumbles to life again.
"Why do you even care so much?" she mutters softly, blue eyes flickering in the spiky-haired teenager's direction to watch how sunlight halos his pale, stubborn features. "You're acting like Scott can't easily take care of himself, even if something about me was off—which it's not, by the way."
The more prominent freckle along Stiles's jawline quirks upward along with his lips—a sharp scoff just barely held back.
"Yeah... you'd think Scott would be able to take care of himself, huh? You really think that'd be 'werewolfy 101', or whatever." he mutters softly with a fondly frustrated shake of his head. "Turns out, I'm the only one holding him back from holding a welcoming hand out to every damn cartoon villain in a one hundred mile radius."
