Stydia One Shots

The Dance

VERY SLOPPILY EDITED FEEL FREE TO POINT OUT ANY GRAMMAR OR SPELLING MISTAKES! Enjoy!

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Stiles seemed to be taking out all the anger he had built up inside of him into the basketball. He dribbled madly across the concrete floor, forgetting any kind of technique and most definitely not using his finger pads to gently push the ball down, like his basketball coach had told him so many years ago when he first started playing basketball. Instead, he thoughtlessly slammed his hand against the rubber ball and sent it plummeting into the floor.

Scott knew something was wrong with his best friend, seeing as Stiles was the second best player on their 8th grade basketball team for the Beacon Junior High School. Scott was the best, of course, he was the captain of the team, but he knew his friend wasn't bad at playing the game and knew how to actually dribble the ball, not just hit it as hard as you can.

It only took him one try to hit the ball away from Stiles, which told Scott that something was definitely wrong, since he was leading on the offense. "Dude," Scott panted, grabbing Stiles' shoulder so he wouldn't scamper away and retrieve the ball. "What the hell is up with you? You're sucking so bad today," Stiles let out a heavy sigh and ruffled his sweaty hair (they were playing outside on Scott's driveway and summer was quickly approaching).

"The end of the year dance, man. It's only one week away and I still don't have a date." Scott groaned in frustration.

"Just freaking ask Lydia already! Times a-wasting! Lydia got so hot this year, before you know it, guys'll be lining up in the street for her."

"Scott, please, for fucks sake, do not ever describe Lydia as hot again. Ew. I've known her since we're in diapers. And- even if I did ask her- there are so many reasons why I shouldn't." Scott tried to intervene but Stiles just kept listing. "1. She's my best friend, besides you, of course. 2. She most definitely doesn't like me. 3. I do not want to get beat up by Jackson." This earned a quizzical look from Scott.

"Wait- Jackson? Like likes Lydia? No way, I thought he had it for Allison," He crossed his arms defensively, and Stiles understood why. Scott had the biggest crush on Allison and asked her to the dance 3 days ago.

"Yeah," Stiles confirmed, "I overheard Nathan Cloff and Ian Lyder talking about it in the locker room after gym the other day." Stiles' mood plummeted.
Only Scott knew this, but Stiles actually did have a crush on Lydia. And if Jackson, the most appealing guy to girls and school liked her, she was a goner.

"Don't worry," Scott reassured, giving Stiles' shoulder a squeeze. "You'll get your chance."

-

"Lydia, come on! Stop waiting for Jackson to ask you to the dance. He's a jackass." Allison sighed, pulling a light purple dress of the rack, showing it to Lydia. The strawberry blonde shook her head no, telling her the embellishments looked tacky.

"Jackson is not a jackass," Lydia swore, admiring a floor length sky blue gown. "He's just... He just doesn't sugar coat things." She pulled out the gown from the rest of the dresses and showed it Allison. The other girl just shrugged and moved her hand in a so-so motion, and Lydia nodded before putting the dress back.

"And Jackson does not take pity on losers. I find that quite admirable." Allison rolled her eyes at the comment.

"What, losers like Stiles?" She said accusingly, and Lydia stiffened, looking at Allison with a confused look on her face. "I heard Stiles talking about it to Scott the other day. You know that black eye he had?"