Teen Wolf Ship Imagines

The Third Grade

She remembered him. The little boy with a funny name, the first person that talked to her in the third grade. He was there for her. Whether she needed some scissors to cut out a heart, or when she needed someone to play with her. Over the years she grew up. Started to like fashion, looks became important, she started to date the jocks. She stopped talking to him and ignored him. He never gave up on her though.

When his friend became the star lacrosse player in he sophomore year, she saw him again. He still tried talked to her, and this time she talked to him back. Her comments leaving small traces of sarcasm. He knows her though. When her dimwitted boyfriend would say something stupid and she corrected him people would look at her strangely. Everyone except the boy. He covered a small smile on his face until she coved up what she said with a "isn't it?" He then looked at her, his smile gone. He didn't understand. He knew she was smart. She knew she was too, but she always covered it up.

Everything changed between them after the school dance. A man attacked her. She was in the hospital and the whole time he was there sitting in the waiting room with a 'get well soon' balloon. After she was let go she became the town freak. Everyone was making comments about her behind her back. She had hallucinations and had episodes during classes, people would laugh at her. Everyone but the boy. He was there. He couldn't tell anyone but he knew what was wrong with her. He understood what she was seeing. He tried to help her, but his life was getting the the way. He had to help his friends. He had to save someone.

One day he left the lacrosse game to get something for his friend when he saw her. She in her car alone, and as he got closer he realized she was crying. He forgotten everything he had to do and went to her. He walked over to her, in his lacrosse gear, and looked through the window. He lightly knocked against the window.

"Go away." She said slightly hiccuping from sobbing. "Lydia, you can tell me what's wrong." He said genteelly. "Go. I don't need anyone to see me cry." She said slightly muffled through the glass. He sighed just looked at her. He thought she was beautiful no matter what. "You especially shouldn't care if people see you cry, because I think you look really beautiful when you cry." With that she looked at him and rolled down the widow that separated them.

"You wouldn't believe me anyway Stiles." She said to him. He smiled on the inside. She remembered his name. If he wasn't talking to her right now he would've fist pumped the air.

"I'll believe you. Trust me." He said to her. Lydia started to explain to him. All the hallucinations she had and how scared she was. The whole time he was there for her. He listened to her, and from then on their friendship grew into more than it was in the third grade.