Friendzoned || Stiles Stilinksi

03

"Go, do your thing," I pepped up the boys before they jogged off to the field. Well, Scott did. Stiles hustled off to the bleachers and played with an extra stick and a random ball.

I found myself at the bleachers with the devil and the new girl from my English class. I put in my earbuds, blaring something from My Chemical Romance, in memorial of their breakup that was now, three years.

"Can you hear me?
Are you near me?
Can we pretend
To leave and then-"

My earbuds were yanked out by a vicious girl I couldn't stand.

"What?" I snapped my head to her in explanation for interrupting my tribute to a great band that was so under appreciated.

"I see you hanging out with the goalie. Who is he?" She replied bitterly. Her tone carried out as if she owned me, and that pissed me off.

"What do you care? I thought you only knew the names Prada and Gucci," I hissed at her, returning the sour look she was sending me. I was almost satisfied with my comeback, but I felt like it came out awkward since I didn't have as much attitude carrying through out my voice.

Alison interjected our little quarrel. "He gave me his pen in English this morning, remember?"

True to her word, that event did take place this morning and left an adorable look on the boy's face for the majority of the day.

"Scott McCall," I answered simply before returning to the song.

Before I could kick back and enjoy it, a phone call came from none other than Camden, the whore who locked me out last night.

Ignore.

Cheers erupted from behind me, and I brought my attention to the field, only to find Jackson stomping to the back of the line and Scott with the ball in his tiny net.

"Holy shit," I breathed out.

-

"I don't know." He admitted sheepishly, then he turned giddy as he hopped over a small body of water that formed from the rain that occurred last night. "It was like I had all the time in the world."

It was called to our again, so I'm going to say no to go back to hunting for a dead body, which is the most exciting thing to happen to this town in a while.

"That's not all," he continued, slightly excited, but worry pooled in his mouth. "I can hear things, and smell things."

"Hear things? Like what?" I quizzed as I carried my body on a log.

"Like the mint mojito gum in Stiles' pocket, and I hear- I hear your phone vibrating." Both boys turned around as I hopped off the giant piece of wood.

I knew that my phone was buzzing, but I didn't care to hear what my family had to say.

We found out your sister got another award. We're giving your brother another excuse for his wrong doings. Hell, let's go fishing with your father. Nothing can go wrong there.

Stiles swiftly yanked the phone from my back pocket, as he held up the piece of gum to behold in front of us. Instead of being fascinated, I wanted my phone back. I reached up, even hopping to reach the technology, but, since he was taller than me, like everyone else, he easily retracted it from my grip like he did this morning with the granola bar.

He put the call on speaker after answering. "Hello, Cammie."

"Stiles, where's Tyler?" Her voice boomed with annoyance. Heh, I put up with her boy toys for the past couple years and she can't even stand to say hello to my friends?

"I went to hell."

"Mom wants to go to Lawrence for dinner tonight."

The color drained from my face. Lawrence was Ronnie's favorite place for dinner, and I knew this could only mean one thing.

"Can't. Tell mom how you refused to let me in in the rain and I'm sick."

"Be there, or you'll have all of us on your ass." She hung up with that. Who the hell does that?

"Who wants to come to dinner?" I sighed, my tone helpful.

"Sorry, got work."

I turned to the last man standing. "Stiles?"

He sucked it up. "I haven't had steak in a while."

"Thank you," I whispered before crouching down to the designated area where the inhaler was supposed to be, according to Scott.

"Uh, Ty."

"Yes, Scott?"

"Get up."

"Make me, McCall," I teased as I continued to brush gross leaves with the back of my hand. I was suddenly yanked to my feet, facing the boys. I brought balled fists up to my smiling face. "Fight me. Fight me, now."

"This is private property," an angry voice snarled behind us, causing me to stumble behind the boys, all playful energy being drained from my body.

Then, I caught sight of him.

He looked like the guys Cameron would bring home; leather jackets, big muscles, and the scent of cologne to mask what they were doing before anyone entered the room.

Needless to say, I was not a fan.

"S-sorry, we were looking for something, but we'll just get going."

Just then, the mysterious guy that appeared to be in all black and a couple yards away, beamed an inhaler, which Scott -due to his new and improved reflexes- caught with ease.

As we -Scott, Stiles, and I- went our separate ways from the gothic rando, Stiles slapped Scott.

"Guys, do you know who that was?"

I knitted my brows together, continuing towards the jeep. "Am I supposed to?"

"That was Derek freaking Hale," he exasperated, running a hand through his small head of hair.

He proceeded to inform us that the Hales' house caught fire a couple years ago. At the mention of it, a memory -the slickest pin of information- floated through my head;

Didn't he date Paige?

Of course, I didn't bring that up with the boys. Instead, we goofed off until dropping Scotty boy off at the clinic, where I made sure to hop up in the passenger seat.

"Last chance, Stilinski. I understand if you want to back out now."

"Please, a free meal from Lawrence is worth any family drama."

"Thanks, Stiles."

It wasn't until he placed his hand on my thigh and gave it a comforting squeeze that I felt the butterflies fluttering in my stomach.

I hate having feelings.