The Secret Holder

XIV. Prolonged Dissention

(keep in mind, I'm returning to the same ONE WEEK later from the previous chapter)

ONE week later (contd)

"Says who?"
"Says Scott."
I can already feel the sickness bubbling in my stomach. "What did he tell you?"
"He may have told me you were upset because I didn't talk to you all summer...and...I'm sorry."

"Oh, Okay." I try the ignition again, and it finally holds promise. Before I can step on the gas pedal, he impulsively reaches through the open window, and grips the steering wheel. I try to push his hand back out the window, but he's too strong.

"Please, Lydia. Stay. Let's talk about this. I can drive you to your house, and I'll help you sort boxes."

"Look, if this is some kind of redemption plan organized by your father, then you can save it because-"

"It's not."

I sigh, and scoot over to the passenger seat so he can drive.

"Thank you." Stiles begins to drive down the street, and to the first stoplight.

"Do you remember where my house-"

"I remember."

This is the longest we've been next to each other in weeks.

"Stiles?"

"Yeah?" He answers, his demeanor unchanging.

"How can you always manage to remember where I live?"

"I just do. C'mon, we're here. Tell me what you want me to put in the car."

Confused, I play along with his unusually willing behavior, and show him my four colossal boxes of clothes.

Stiles holds up my favorite black camisole. "Because you'll need all of these lacy tank tops for the winter, right?"

"Shut up! You said you could carry the boxes, not dig into them and question my fashion sense!"

Holding up both hands in surrender, he picks up the box to take to my car. "No shots fired...I'll be back for the other three," he smirks noticeably.

I take the stairs to my old room, and sit in the empty corner by the window. The memory of when we moved in returns for a fleeting moment. I was nine years old, and my mother was just getting back on her feet. You can paint it whatever color you want, she told me.

This room was where I used to hang out with Allison when she was still alive, and where Scott became my best friend, while Stiles froze me out. This room was where I mooned over Stiles, and felt more alone than ever, even if my mother still roamed the halls. Downstairs, on the couch was the first time Scott ever hugged me. I was telling him about how much I missed Allison and Aiden, and we both started crying. He told me that it would be okay. And he was there for me when no one else was.

I hear footsteps coming up the stairs.

"Sti-les!?" I yell lazily from my spot on the carpet.

"Uh-huh?"

I slide a large cardboard box across the floor. "Can you just walk around the house and toss in the box whatever looks like mine?"

"Sure. Your room too?"

"Yes please. And Stiles?"

He looks up at me with those eyes. Why does my heart beat so quickly?

"Thanks for being such a big help,"

"No problem..."

As Stiles starts to pick up random items around my room, I begin to clean my room on my own.