The Chance of Meeting You. (TeenWolfFanfic)

A visitor

I do not own Teen Wolf-

Chapter Sixteen.

*Samantha's POV* 

    After pouring my heart out to Danny after school, we had grown close. So close, it had felt like I'd known him forever. At the bonfire I sat with him and we talked for an hour before Lydia came rushing towards us, insisting on taking a picture. Danny turned around, his back facing toward me, and motioned for me to get on his back. I laughed and leaped up onto his back and we walked over towards the group that was huddled up around the fire. 

    After Scott took the picture, I hopped off of Danny's back and stumbled right into Jackson. I grinned and  he wrapped his muscular arms around me, and for once I didn't protest. Usually when he hugged me I would cut it short because it didn't feel right, but now I got caught up in the hug. I burrowed my head into his neck, and it felt good to hug someone again. Eventually I let go and saw Jackson looking at something behind me, when I turned around I saw Stiles. He stood there with a lost look on his  face and he looked as if he was on the verge of crying. I found myself rushing towards him, but he backed away. 

"Stiles." I whisper shouted at him, trying not to make a scene. 

He opened his mouth to say something, but didn't. Instead he looked down at his shoes and sighed.

"I'm sorry." I tried again.

Again I got nothing but silence.

"Stiles, say something." I stepped closer to him, making him back away again.

"Anything." I whispered, hoping that he'd say something. 

He just stood there looking at the ground, refusing to look at me, refusing to talk to me. 

    I gave up and turned around, heading back towards the fire. 

"Stop apologizing." he whispered back. 

    I stopped at first, but then remembered the proecess I had just went through with him. So I didn't say anything, instead I started walking towards the fire again. I sat down next Lydia and Asher, trying to avoid guys but my brother didn't really count. I grabbed another cup filled with alcohol, and began to sip on it. The song 'I Don't Care' came on the radio, and it suited everything so perfectly. I don't care, and I was done trying with Stiles. What's the point of trying with someone when you get nothing in return, nothing but silence. 

    I burst into laughter as the Harlem Shake song came on, and all the guys got up and continuously dry humped the air. I had seen enough of the videos to know when the beat sped up you were suppose to get up and dance like an animal. So I did, I got up and flung my arms in the air bouncing around ridiculously. When I stopped I grabbed my head feeling dizzy from all the dancing and stumbled right into somebody, curse my horrible balance, and when I looked up it was Stiles. 

    I don't know if it was the alcohol or me being nervous, but I bent over and threw up all over his shoes. He pulled my hair back and knelt to the ground with me, as I heaved more, much more. In fact I felt someone lift me up and take me in to the bathroom. Once there I just threw up even more, and as far as I knew that's what I spent the rest of the night doing. 

-

    I woke up the next morning in my room, I was wearing different clothes than I was at the party last night. I was now in sweat pants and a large shirt, my hair was pulled back with a hair tie. This was all so strange because I didn't remember changing last night, but then again I didn't remember much of anything from last night. I rolled over and suddenly felt like someone shot me in the head about a thousand times.