Little Memories ; S. Stilinski ; book 1

[13]

melody

+

"We have to find Allison and Mr. Argent. They could be in serious trouble right now, Stiles," I said. How we managed to escape the deathly glares and probing questions from my father, I don't know.

"Hurry," Stiles said.

I nodded my head.  The jeep was in our vision, and I was beginning to feel relieved to have slipped past my dad, but I had spoken too soon. His hand clung onto my bicep. He pulled me back, "Where the hell do you think you're going now? I just saw you, Luna. What are you doing?"

"I'm running a marathon," I rolled my eyes at him. My father glared at me, "I'm leaving, dad. What does it look like? And I already told you not to call me that."

My dad ignored me, "To where?"

"Somewhere," I scoffed.

"With him?" My dad pointed to my jittery friend.

I internally groaned, though my dad could still hear my muffled miserable tone through my teeth, "Yes, dad, now can you let go of me? You're hurting me," I said, trying to pry off his grip on my arm. Stiles had noticed I wasn't in the jeep by now (he was struggling to open the jeep with his keys before he noticed). He climbed out of his beloved blue automobile.

"Hey, what are you doing? Let her go," He said.

"Stilinski, this has nothing to do with you," My dad snapped at him, "She's coming with me."

"No, she's not. She wants to leave."

My dad scoffed, and let go of my arm. I had been pulling on him, so I stumbled back. I hit the floor with a loud thud, my hips were rapidly becoming sore with the pain. Stiles helped me to my feet.

"Melody, are you okay?" Stiles asked. He dusted off my back as I dusted off my arms.

I nodded. Stiles had a pained expression on his face, almost as if he was going to ask me why there was so much bad blood between my father and I, "Yeah, I'm fine, lets just go."

"Luna, sweetheart, I didn't mean to hurt you—"

"Just let me leave, okay dad. Be grateful I still call you that."

My dad ran his hands over his face, "No, Luna, I won't leave you alone. How am I supposed to feel knowing my daughter hates me? What's going on with you? You came back, and you didn't even call me. You didn't send a message, or leave a voicemail. I thought you were still in Paris, which I'm still upset about, by the way. And now what? You're leaving with Stilinski to do what?"

"You're in no position to tell me how to run my life. I don't have to answer those questions."

"I'm your father, Luna. What, are you and Stilinski dating? Are you sleeping together? Is that what this is?"

"No!" I shouted, "We're friends, dad. Remember Scott?" I teased at him, "Stiles is his best friend. We're friends."

Stiles tried to intervene, but my father interrupted him, "Why are you wearing his shirt?"

"Because mine was dirty. We were stuck in an elevator. People were getting hurt in the storm. I got blood on my shirt. He was being nice. You should try it sometime," I snapped. I pulled Stiles by the arm, "We're leaving."