Stiles shouted, along side Scott, the lyrics to the song that swept through the house, surprisingly loud compared to the size of the speakers it was playing through. It was just any other normal party, a three day weekend that someone no one particularly knew had decided to throw. Isaac had suggested the four of them go and when Scott decided he'd be going with Allison, the group shared playful looks of annoyance. Since Isaac couldn't drive (even though they were seniors), he rode with Jackson while Stiles stuck with the faithful jeep to get him there. Jackson checked his phone again. Nothing.
"Lydia was supposed to be here by now." He shouted over the music.
Stiles stopped singing momentarily to check his phone as well. "I haven't heard from her."
They brushed it off, deciding to move their group towards where they would find Scott in the living room. The boy was wrapped around Allison, like he usually was, but they managed to pry him from the girl enough to offer him a drink. Everything felt good, no stress of school and it had been a while since any of them had had a good laugh.
Jackson checked his phone but there was no sign of his girlfriend. Stiles noticed this and searched the room with hope. As if sensing this, the front door opened to reveal his favorite strawberry blonde and he grinned.
But his face dropped at the sight of her tear stained cheeks and the look of surprise that swept across her face at how many people were here. She expected it to be a smaller party. Practically elbowing everyone on his way through the crowd, he quickly made his way to where Lydia stood shocked by the entrance. She relaxed upon seeing the boy, the familiar face causing her to wilt when he embraced her and she almost began to weep again. His flannel acted as her shield from the people she could feel staring at her. She coughed awkwardly into his shirt and he rubbed her back soothingly before pulling her away to get a good look. Eyes doing a full body scan, he concluded that she didn't appear to be physically harmed in anyway and it made him relax just the tiniest bit.
"What's going on, Red?" He asked and she forced a smile at the nickname. But before she had time to answer–
"Stiles?"
He turned over his shoulder to where he'd been standing before to see a concerned Jackson had called his name. Scott and Isaac, who had been talking with him, had also turned their attention towards Lydia, their laughter slowly dying as they noticed something was off. Jackson raised a brow, asking if everything was okay to which Stiles gave a small nod. He would take care of it. Jackson didn't turn all the way though, looking past Stiles and towards his girlfriend.
"I want to talk to you, Stiles." She stepped closer and tugged on the sleeve of his flannel. He looked back at her, then to Jackson again and gave him another nod.
Lydia curled her hand around his wrist with a sniffle. Stiles wasn't quite sure what to think as they shuffled their way towards the stairs. He hadn't the faintest idea of what was wrong when they found an empty room. And while they settled he kept trying to wrap his brain around the image of her crying face. It was dark inside and smelled like too much perfume, the music becoming muffled when he closed the door behind them. He chose to ignore the moans from the room next door, instead sitting on the bed next the where Lydia was looking down into her lap.
"Red?" He leaned a little closer, trying to catch a glimpse of her face. She looked small. Had she always been that small? He suddenly couldn't remember.
"They're getting a divorce."she whimpered and he immediately knew this was about her parents.
Stiles sighed. "Ah, I'm so sorry."
"It's not that, I-I mean I saw it coming, I knew." She coughed, sniffled some more. He knew it too. There had been plenty of instances where they would argue while he was at her house but lately it would be every time he was over. Every. Time. They couldn't seem to have a conversation without raised voices or rude looks. The worst was when Lydia called him late at night. "Were you sleeping?" She would whisper and usually he would say no even if he had been because he could hear the shouting behind her and the own strain in her voice. It wasn't horrible because the call was late, it was more about the fact that she would pretend she hadn't called because they were fighting. "Could you–" she would pause, the slamming of a door in the back and her voice wavered slightly. "Um, I want to go over the homework, if that's okay."
