Stydia

hate to love from love to lust

I

The first time Lydia and Stiles kissed was in sophomore year. It was before they had kanima problems- actually it was a few days before Allison's birthday. Lydia could not pinpoint the exact date, it was unimportant. In all honesty, at the time she did not care. She was queen of the school, she was probably dating Jackson then (she wasn't quite sure of that either, they had a bumpy relationship), she thought werewolves were silly characters in the Twilight saga, Stiles Stilinski was definitely not on her radar and they were at a party. A high school party with a bunch of sophomores who were more-than-ready to experiment was made up of one key ingredient: hook-ups.

Jackson had driven her and Allison both even though Lydia was aware that she secretly wanted to go with Scott. Wait, she was dating Jackson at the time, she realised. They never went through the transition of being friends, that would be a display of humility, and Jackson would have never shown such a thing. Lydia had worn some gorgeous dress with a plunging neckline, her hair beautifully done and her make-up made her look fashionable but her style, thanks to taste, still managed to alter over a year.

Almost seconds following their arrival Allison was in a corner, hands tucked in to her leather jacket, nodding her head while Scott spoke to her all while giving him coy glances. Jackson abandoned her for a beer and Danny, which was completely expected. This left Lydia to interact with masses of people she actually did not like. At all. Amongst all the groups of people killing time around Greenberg's house the only people she close to did not dislike were sitting in the living room in a circle, Budweiser cans in a hand, grinning giddily or blushing. Beacon Hills was a small town, so obviously, the residents lacked creativity. They couldn't help but play Spin the Bottle. Spin on someone once, light peck. Spin on them again, head forward to the closet for a session of Seven Minutes In Heaven. The rules were simple enough for the simpletons she was surrounded by. Gingerly she sat down, giving a tight smile to the group. Soon the space next to her was filled by Stiles Stilinski- Scott's best friend.

He chirped excitedly, "Hey Lydia! I'm Stiles! I sat next to you in the third grade!" She doubted he was intentionally speaking as if each sentence finished with an exclamation point. He continued, "Scott's with Allison, as anyone would assume. What are you guys playing here?" He was speaking in a more steady tone acting generally clueless.

"Spin the Bottle."

He gulped, "Oh." He then sighed, "With my luck I'll probably end up kissing Greenberg. A lot."

Lydia couldn't help but want to laugh. Not that she did. Queens don't laugh.

***

The bottle turned slowly, drifting right then left, right then left. Stiles had his eyes shut closed as if were worried when it would stop, on who. It was shifting between Greenberg and Lydia. He'd kissed Lydia on the cheek once in quite a brotherly style. He did not want to make any contact with Greenberg's body ever, much less with his lips. He had confided this much to Lydia. He also happened to mention that he'd eaten garlic fingers before he'd arrived at the party which resulted in a very flustered Stiles a few seconds after he announced it to everyone. Which may have given him reason to not necessarily like the idea of kissing the Lydia Martin for the first time, with seriously funky breath. It was rather obvious he liked Lydia- but Lydia grinned smugly, who didn't.

If the bottle landed on her, this boy would be lucky to have ever looked at Lydia Martin's lips, much less participate in any activity with them. And lucky he was, it did land on her.

***

The lighting was dim, clearly. Not that it was romantic at all. There was a strong odour of mothballs mixed with Greenberg's scent- which most likely existed thanks to the rumoured fungus growing on his toe and the little use of deodorant.