A/N: this is based off the episode 2 of season 4. And you're Scott's sister.
Your dad looked over at you with a wide smile on his face as he parked the car. "Wasn't today fun?"
"No," you answered the sharply.
His smile faded, "But you used to love the fair."
"Yeah," you scoffed as your folded your arms over your chest, "When I was ten...and you actually cared about me."
He reached out to put a hand on your shoulder, but you jerked away and made a move to hop out of the car.
Since your mom and dad had got divorced when you were younger, you developed a deep hate toward him. He left you, your mom, and your brother to fend for yourselves, and not too long ago, he decided to try and "rekindle" his relationship with his children. However, you and Scott were having none of it.
Your hand reached out for the doorknob, and you opened the door with your dad (and the Chinese food) trailing behind. You soon heard talking coming from the kitchen.
"Do I talk to you?"
"No."
"Fine."
"Good."
"Who's gonna talk to them?"
You and your dad stood face to face with your brother's best friend and a slightly familiar face. You furrowed your eyebrows and let your eyes skim over his facial features. After staring at the green-eyed boy for a few moments, you realized he looked like a younger version of Derek. Before you could say anything, however, Stiles spoke loudly and suspiciously.
Stiles wore a shocked look on his face, "Are you getting taller?" he directed toward your dad.
He ignored Stiles' remark, "What are you guys doing here?"
The boy beside Stiles finally spoke, "We're waiting for Scott."
"So are we," you finally spoke up, eyes shifting to the floor shyly, "We're supposed to have dinner together as a...family." You spoke with sarcastic enthusiasm.
"I brought extras." Your dad's voice pulled you from your thoughts. "You guys hungry?"
"Yeah."
"No, we're not hungry."
"No, I'm starving."
"Neither of us are hungry," Stiles turned to glare at the boy beside him, "Neither of us are hungry. Thanks, though."
"Okay, well if you're not hungry, Stiles, your friend can still eat with us. What's your name?"
Stiles answered before the dark-haired boy on his side could respond, "Miguel. My cousin...from Mexico."
"Es usted un natural de México?"
"No soy nativo, si no que pasé montón de tiempo allí," 'Miguel' responded.
Rafael smiled, "Fantastic. Egg roll?"
"Hell yeah."
As he moved forward to join your dad at the table, Stiles yanked you back by your arm.
"Why does that kid look like Derek?" you interrogated before your brother's best friend could even speak.
"Because he is Derek."
"What?" you shrieked quietly.
"Look, it's a long story with Kate and Mexican churches, okay?"
You heaved a small breath, "Okay. What's the plan?"
"Wait for Scott to get here and keep your dad from getting suspicious."
"It's a little too late for that."
"You guys eating?" Rafael asked. He held up two more plates, and you and Stiles gave each other a look.
All throughout dinner, Derek just stared at you. Not in a stalker-ish way, though. It was more so fascination. It made you slightly uncomfortable, not because you weren't attracted to him—he was most definitely attractive—but because he was...Derek. Derek who was a good eight or nine years older than you. That was the problem.
You pushed the leftover rice around on your plate, mumbling your next sentence under your breath even though you knew he was still going to hear you. "Why do you keep staring at me like that?"
He smirked, not even caring that your dad was right next to him as he spoke, "Sólo tienes unos ojos muy hermoso. En realidad, todos ustedes es hermoso."
Your dad glared at Derek as Stiles leaned over in his seat. "What did he just say?" the brown-eyed boy asked, knowing you were just as fluent in spanish as your parents.
"He just called me beautiful."
