The sound of lockers slamming closed was imminently worse than death and often made Stiles jump slightly when walking down the halls on the Friday of the first week of school. But boy when that final bell rung, the lockers sounded heavenly like an orchestra playing their final piece at a concert. He closed his own locker with a smile as small arms wrapped around him from behind before spinning him around. The girl grins and pecks his cheek and then starts rambling on about how her day had gone.
Stiles didn't mind, he loved his little fireball and enjoyed her exaggerated tales of algebra class and the witch teacher who had yelled at her for eating a mint. He laughs once she was done causing her little fist to meet his upper arm.
"So my parents are out of town this weekend." She chirped, practically skipping. Stiles rolled his eyes and hiked up his lacrosse bag further on his back.
"Lyds, don't throw a party. that's cliché." He opens the school door for her, the smile on her lips quickly turning to a defensive pout.
"I'm not throwing a party!" She exclaims. How dare he automatically think that was her plan. Stiles quirks a brow in her direction. "At least not anymore... My dad left a bottle of very expensive vodka from Europe in the fridge."
"I'll be at yours after lacrosse." He grins and kisses the top of her curly hair before jogging off to the field behind the high school, leaving Lydia with a smile on the sidewalk.
She bit her bottom lip when he stopped momentarily to blow her a kiss, yelling back at the girl: "J'taime, mon ami!" With a wink that almost made her laugh. It took her mere seconds to shout back the line she'd been working on.
"To get drunk and make love all night, only a woman's wildest fantasies!" She rounded off the statement with a fake gasp and the back of her hand to her forehead in an 'I might faint' sort of way. Several students threw her some odd looks but it was worth it when she heard Stiles cackle loudly from the lacrosse field. Feeling accomplished, the girl fluffed her hair and set off towards her car.
The air was too hot for his liking, sweat already beginning to drip down the dip in his back and it was an awful, dreadful feeling. He didn't mind sweat, not really, but only when he was full out sweating did the boy not give a damn. After an hour and a half practice, Stiles was literally dripping; heavy breaths, shirt sticking to his skin, everything way too freaking hot and miserable.
So he sat on the bleachers, unscrewed the cap to his water bottle and took one sip before pouring the rest over his matted hair. Scott took a seat next to him, both boys not in any rush to get home immediately. Although when Scott asked if he wanted to play the newest Assassins Creed, Stiles reluctantly told him about the expensive European vodka he would soon get drunk off of on Lydia's couch.
"I still don't understand your relationship." His friend smiled with perfect teeth before chugging the rest of his water. Stiles stood and snatched up his lacrosse gear in one hand, duffle bag and car keys in the other.
He shrugged. "Neither do I but we have fun and it works so I'm not entirely complaining." And it was true, the two were a confusing pair.
Stiles went home for a total of three minutes; change his clothes and set down his school stuff. He walked next door with a smile on his face and rang Lydia's doorbell an annoying amount of times but he knew she would still be grinning when the door opened. She was, hugging the boy as if she hadn't seen him in ages before galavanting back into the large house.
You see, Lydia's house was by far the largest in the neighborhood (a mansion if you will). Her parents were loaded due to the fact that her great great grandfather invented some sort of something that no one really cares about because whatever it was meant they still had a lot of money. And when I say loaded, i mean loaded. Marble pillars at the front of the house, Crystal chandeliers in all three dining rooms and the foyer, a grand staircase that lead up to the five guest rooms and Lydia's room as well (her parents room was downstairs). Originally the house had seven rooms up stairs but after knocking down a couple of walls, Lydia's room seemed the size of the titanic. Stiles personally enjoyed the movie room next to the kitchen and the hot tub out on their back porch.
You'd think she was a spoiled brat but the only major thing she had really received was her resized room at age thirteen and her car at age sixteen. Other than that, her parents were fairly cheap asses and Lydia was definitely a personality. For example, Lydia liked to listen to a lot of music that Stiles didn't necessarily understand the metaphorical meaning behind but it was okay because it still sounded good despite the fact that quote unquote "half of these jerks were on drugs while writing it". She also liked to talk a lot about visiting places like Machu Picchu but mostly because her parents visited Paris every summer and she was still trying to convince them to take herself and Stiles along with them one year.
But she liked places like that. (Machu Picchu, I mean, although Paris seemed nice too.) She was more interested in ancient civilization and Aztec temples more than anything. In the seventh grade she did all of her culture projects in history about traditional art and beliefs in Africa and Stiles thought it was pretty interesting when she rambled on but only because the way she told it made it seem like some wild fantasy.
He trailed after her and into the movie room where she already had Gossip Girl playing on the big flat screen and only then did he see what she was wearing. Her robe was undone in the front and she acted so casual about the red lace she wore underneath, examining the back of a movie case as Stiles plopped down on the leather couch.
"Do you think the lavender I wore the other day was better?" She asks, spreading open her robe a little wider for him to see as Stiles grabbed a blanket from the arm of the couch and draped it over his body. He glanced at her briefly.
"Why can't you just say purple?" He sighs causing Lydia to glare, waiting for an answer. "The red." He said it mostly because he didn't want Lydia to change into the purple and then maybe the turquoise would be better and soon enough he's sitting in a pile of fancy undergarments.
Looking down at her own figure quickly, she smiles at his answer and takes a seat next to him, putting her feet up on the coffee table while investing herself in whatever Chuck Bass was telling Blair.
"I don't understand why you're buying lingerie in the first place." Stiles states matter-of-factly. Lydia stretches out over his body, her head hanging off the arm of the sofa and her porcelain skin the only thing to be seen for miles in Stiles' eyes. He forced a swallow, looked over to her face but instead only saw boob so he went back to watching gossip girl and prayed he wouldn't get a boner from the girl on his lap.
"Because when I finally do find someone to screw me endlessly into the night, I'm sure they'd appreciate my ass wrapped in lace." She laughed causing him to wonder if she had already opened that bottle of vodka without him. "Until then, it's comfy to wear when your getting drunk with your best friend." Lydia sits up and kisses him on the cheek before telling him to pause the show while she ran off to get the liquor.
"I hope you know we're watching Harry Potter tomorrow because in sick of Georgina's bullshit already." Stiles gestures to the tv.
|||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||
Authors note:
Soooo if you couldn't tell there's a BIG difference between the last chapter I had written in The Unforgettables and this one. This one is obviously WAY more detailed and well written😅 but anyway super excited for this one and thank you again for all of the support in my taking a break from The Unforgettables.💜💜
Comment, read, enjoy!
-Chloe
YOU ARE READING
Me Too (completed)
Fanfiction"Our moms were best friends before mine died, we used to take freaking bubble baths together when we were three."
