No Luck

Rich Youth

'Cause you are the piece of me I wish I didn't need

Chasing relentlessly, still fight and I don't know why

If our love is tragedy, why are you my remedy?

If our love's insanity, why are you my clarity?

- Clarity, Zedd

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"Gotta pee, gotta pee, gotta pee."

Isaac runs past Lydia and into the bathroom. Isaac sighs in relief loudly and Lydia wrinkles up her nose. She flops on the bed to the right face first, spreading her arms out. They stopped at a crappy motel a few miles away from their destination for the night.

"So, are you and Stiles going to kiss and makeup or what?" Isaac asks, popping his head through the door. Lydia shakes her head. "There shall be no kissing." Lydia replies, making her friend frown. He washes his hands and purses his lips, ready to give her a speech. "Oh, and no speeches either." She stops him mid-sentence.

He pouts and sits next to her. "You're Stiles and Lydia, theres always kissing." Lydia makes an annoyed noise, hating the way she liked how 'Stiles and Lydia' sounded. That stupid double date ruined everything.

Lydia lifts her head and turns on her side. "How are you and Scott?" She changes the subject easily. Isaac notices and tries to act like he doesn't care. "There is no me and Scott." He responds. Lydia smirks. "Scott and Isaac sitting in a tree, F-U-C-K-I-N-G."

Isaac snorts and pushes her off the bed. He rolls over so he can smile innocently at her. Lydia glares and crawls to her knees. "Wow, I feel honored." He gasps like he just won an award. "I thought only Stiles gets to see you on your knees."

He dodges the pillow that comes at his face with a loud laugh. Lydia sits up. "We are," Lydia makes a hand motion for emphasis,

"Not dating." Stiles grumbles, fixing his hair in the mirror. Scott finishes tying his shoelaces. "Hey, you think Lydia is going to this party?" Stiles asks nervously. Scott holds up his phone and wiggles it. "Allison bribed her into it."

Coach would probably flip his shit if he found out that more than half the class was sneaking away to a party down the road, especially when theres a lacrosse game early next morning. But theres alcohol and a bucket load of teenagers, so what else are they suppose to do?

"What are you doing to your hair anyways?" Scott eyes his friend with raised eyebrows. Stiles has gone through half a bottle of gel trying to tame his hair, and he's been in front of the mirror for about half an hour.

Normally, he would just walk around with it sticking out every which way. "You know, a little birdy told me that a certain strawberry blonde likes your hair better messy." Scott says slyly. The amber-eyed boy pauses then turns around.

"For your information, I happen to be styling my hair for myself. I have self-respect, and guys can take pride in their appearance too." Stiles tries to sound convincing. Scott nods and puts his hands up in surrender.

Stiles starts to leave the bathroom but stops abruptly. He walks back to the mirror and messes up his hair. The puppy-like boy gives him a knowing look. "Shut up." Stiles grunts and leaves.

---

"Go."

"No."

"Go."