Phoenix || Malia Tate

05

Days go past. An entire week goes past. She does not see him. She almost thinks that she's in the clear, that that's the end of the green eyed boy. Almost. She is not naive, though she sometimes wishes she were. Deep down, Malia knows this is not the end of him, knows he'll be back at some point. Until then, she must march on.

She goes to school, goes home, and then goes to the Tate house every day like clockwork. The pack begins to worry about where she disappears to, but Stiles tells them that "she's on a self-discovering journey." He tells them that they've taught her all they could about being human, and now it's time for her to figure the rest out on her own. Scott is nervous about the suspicious behavior, worries that she actually will leave the pack to return to the woods, but he doesn't question her. Despite all the bad she's done, she is a good person. If she needs space, then she will get the space.

She uses the time to think and refocus. She still wants to escape, still wants to run away, still hates the goddamn human life, but she needs to be safe. The last time she wanted so desperately to run away the green eyed boy broke into her home just to tell her her life story. She pushes down the boiling hatred and the annoyance and the frustration of it all and focuses her energy on learning algebraic equations and important World War II dates.

On October 19, all is going well. She continues on as if nothing is wrong, and for a few moments, it's as if there really isn't anything wrong. For one single blissful moment, her mind is not occupied by him or the worry of who he is and what he wants or even the pressure of school. She's so caught up in it, in the security, in the feeling like she's actually got a hold of life for this first time in her existence, that she doesn't notice the only still standing person in the crowd of bustling teenagers until she's five feet away.

And she sees him and she's dead in her tracks, completely frozen. She's not sure it's him, with the hood covering his head and the sunglasses covering the eyes, but she swears it is him. Then pink lips tilt upwards, and the smile feels so familiar that she just knows. She starts to take a step forward, but then another teenager crosses in her way, and by the time she does finally step around and advance, he's gone.

*

She looks for him the rest of the school day, and every time she sees a tall guy wearing a hoodie or sunglasses she thinks, that's it – that's him! And it never is.

With a force, he is back in her thoughts, there and confronting as if he never left. She worries about why he was here. Does he want something from her? If so, what? Is he here to tell everyone about her? Does he just like torturing people? She gets a headache just thinking about it.

She avoids the pack. Malia is paranoid, and she doesn't need their questions right now.

She makes it the end of the day without any more confrontations. Classes go by, breaks go by, nothing happens.

When she's in her last class of the day, Stiles texts her. He asks if she needs a study buddy. She does. She really does. And Stiles isn't the whole pack. He's just...Stiles. She should be able to dodge any questions he throws at her.

Study at yours after practice?

He texts back almost immediately.

Wait for me and we can drive together?

Sounds good.

Stiles is nice to her, perhaps the nicest and most real out of the whole group towards her. He was the one who introduced her to Scott and was there when she first began to learn about control and human life. He's been with her every step of the way. Malia doesn't know where she would be without him. Perhaps in another life, they would be good together, good as something more, but in this one, they are nothing more than best friends. She doesn't mind it, though. He is one hell of a platonic soulmate.

Malia thinks of how she'll pass the practice time as she walks out the class. She'll have to sit on the bleachers and do her homework while they practice, and any questions she struggles with (which will probably be most of them) she'll ask Stiles for help when they study. Satisfied with her plan, Malia walks to her locker, where there are some books she needs swap out. She's pushing her way through so many students, the hallways so crowded that she almost doesn't see him.

But then she does.

He's leaning against her locker, eyes trained on her as he holds up a hand and waves. This time, however, Malia does not freeze. She keeps walking until she's right in front of him. "What are you doing here?" She asks in a low, harsh whisper. She turns her head to see if anyone is watching them, but everyone is too involved with themselves to even notice the stranger in their high school.

The green eyed boy tilts his head and raises an eyebrow. He motions around him, at the lockers and the classrooms and the kids. "This is a school," he says oh so matter-of-fact like.

"You go to school here?" The surprise in her tone is genuine.

"No. But you do."

Malia gives him a blank look. When he doesn't provide further information, she whacks his arm until he gets off her locker and then dramatically opens the door, pulling it so hard it almost slams into him. He leans back just in time. Malia gives him a sarcastic smile.

The boy leans his arm against the door as she begins to swap out her books, and watches with close eyes as she does it. "Figured I kept you wondering long enough," he tells her. "Malia Hale, I am here to provide you some information."

Malia doesn't look at him. "Information on what?"

"On you, of course," he says. "On how I know about the eight years." He says it like he's telling her this huge secret, which he is in a way.

Malia holds her index finger to her mouth. "Keep your voice down," she tells him harshly.

He holds up his hands. "Right, right. Protect the secret, protect the people. That's McCall's motto, right?"

She looks at him sharply when he mentions Scott. Alarm and that damn protective streak fire up, and then she wonders, if he knows about Scott, who else does he know about?

"So, what? You're just gonna tell me your whole deal?" Malia says.

"Only if you wanna hear it."

Malia glances at her watch and then back to him. Practice is about to start. She takes a moment to consider. Guess homework will just have to wait for Stiles'.

"Come on. I know a place we can talk." She closes her locker and begins to walk. She doesn't have to look behind her to know he's following, and she doesn't have to glance sideways to know his got that tilted smile. She fights the urge to roll her eyes.

Malia almost shoves him into the lockers when he leans in close. "You taking me away, princess?" He whispers.

Malia does roll her eyes. "You'd have to tell me your name first."

She doesn't expect him to respond. Though she is curious, she meant it more as a joke, more as a way to play along with his obnoxious act.

"Phoenix," he says. "It's Phoenix."