Outcasts [Book 1]

Fourteen

You like your girls insane

- Born To Die, Lana Del Rey

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Lydia sighs in relief when Stiles announces that he's fine and sits down on top of the counter. He looks almost... Disappointed. Most would be glad that they were fine after consuming so much, as at this point if Lydia had drank so much so fast Allison would be carrying her ass home.

Stiles looks down at the ground for a whole minute. "What do you mean your troubled?" Lydia asks him quietly, her hand finding his shoulder again. She had never talked about the night he came back into her room crying, she had never asked him what happened, and he had acted like nothing had happened that night besides the kiss.

He raises his head, his eyes distant again, before they retreat to their spot on the ground. "Stiles." Lydia says quietly, almost not heard over the music. Stiles winces when her fingers skim a spot on his shoulder and she raises her eyebrows.

Lydia momentarily thought about dragging him into an empty room and taking off his shirt - not in the way she wanted - to see what's wrong, but she figures if he didn't tell her, then he didn't want to tell her.

Lydia sighs. Her spidey senses were tingling, or more her banshee senses. Lydia could practically smell like death that circled the boy and swallowed him whole. They were both troubled in their own ways. "You wanna go home?" She asks him. He nods, but then stops. "Take me somewhere, your choice- just, not a cemetery."

It's not like Lydia spent a lot of time going to cemetery's to mourn the dead, pray, and/or just start crying hysterically. Though, she was the type of person who goes to a cemetery one Saturday and sits at some random persons grave and watches a movie on her phone.

Lydia had no idea how he knew that she'd watched a Spiderman movie at a cemetery, maybe it was just a lucky guess. She did kind of feel bad for watching a movie there, but she was kind of in her fuck-everything mode. She's getting off her point.

"Aww, but Stiles, a cemetery would've been such a great place for a first date." Lydia responds. Stiles looks up at her and grins. "I forgot to tell you, you're going on a date with an extremely sexy guy next Saturday." He tells her.

Lydia glances around as if a guy that looks like Zac Efron was about to come out of the shadows. "Really? Where is he?"

Stiles pouts up at her. "It's me." His pout only grows when she laughs quietly. Lydia takes his wrist and pulls him out of the kitchen. She remembers Isaac taking her car and frowns. She spots Scott and Allison sharing a beer over in a dark corner, what a surprise.

Lydia holds out her hand at Scott. "Keys." She says. Scott raises his eyebrows, knowing that he shouldn't protest, as she has her, 'mess with me and I'll kick you in the balls so hard you won't be able to have children' face on. 

"What? No." Scott sputters. He knows he doesn't sound brave under her hardened expression.

"Hey Allison, did you know that on multiple occasions I've caught Scott trying to steal you-" The keys are dropped in her hand quickly. "Just- don't scratch her." Allison gives them both a surprised look, her eyes drifting to a swaying Stiles behind her that looks like he's on drugs.

"Thank you, your so kind Scott." Lydia flashes a polite smile at him and, still holding Stiles' hand, walks away. The crowd splits for her because despite everything, she is Lydia Martin after all.

Stiles is on her heels the whole time, following her like Prada does on the weekends. Lydia finds Scott's mom's car easily and opens up the trunk. In the trunk is Scott's light green motorbike, shining in all its glory. Lydia smirks while Stiles makes a small whine of protest.

"Uh, no. I'm not letting you murder me with your crappy motorcycle driving skills!" Stiles exclaims, backing away from the car. Lydia rolls her eyes and tells Stiles to lift the other side of the motorbike.

He does what she asks, but still shouts out protests drunkly. She takes the helmets out of the back of the car, her smirk never leaving her face.

Lydia turns to Stiles. "Oh come on, don't be such a baby." Stiles sticks his tongue out at her. "Real mature." She comments and closes the trunk, locking the car while Stiles tries to not fall over. The alcohol was kicking in. "Do you even know how to drive this thing?"

"Nope." Lydia replies easily. He stares at her in shock. "Okay, then I'm not getting on." Stiles crosses his arms over his chest and she does the same. "Stiles, I'm an artist, a genius, I can speak over fifteen languages, and I can run a marathon in heels. I think I can handle driving a motorbike. Now get your sexy ass on the damn bike before I make you."

There's ten more seconds of Stiles staring at her in shock. "You think my ass is sexy?" He questions. She rolls her eyes and sits down. "I'm not going to repeat that ever, and your not going to remember it in the morning." Lydia shrugs a shoulder while putting on the helmet. Stiles sighs and reluctantly and carefully sits behind her.

He spends a ridiculous amount of time adjusting in his seat, his hands running over her hips multiple times. After his lips brush her ear for the third time, she's sure it's not an accident anymore. Stiles settles after a moment and she starts the motorbike. "You know, I could always drive." Stiles suggests.

"You don't have a drivers license, and your drunk, so no way in hell." Lydia replies. She revs the engine in a way she knows will make Scott whimper later, but he deserves it, telling her 'no' like that.

"Something I've never done: drove a vehicle." Stiles states. Lydia shakes her head, wanting this conversation to be over so they can leave already. "Something I've never done: died. I wanna keep it that way."

Before he can protest further, she speeds down the road with absolutely no regards for the speed limit. She hears Stiles curse through the helmet, his grip on her tightening. Lydia still has this smirk on her face, and she hopes that she doesn't turn into one of those thrill-junkies that her mom complains about.

A/N

All I want is to find someone who ships Stydia, Bamon, Delena, Bonnie/Jeremy, Schmece, Malira, and honestly thinks Bonnie Bennett, Lydia Martin, Nick Miller, and Katherine Pierce deserve happiness goddamit.

My poor, tortured, sometimes evil, babies need love and care (in Lydia's case the love and care that only Stiles can provide).