Point of Intersection - Stydia (Teen Wolf)

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Stiles and Allison first go to school together during his sophomore year in high school. They were in different schools when Allison became part of his family and his father had seen no reason to make either of them transfer schools then. Allison's old school followed a different system, which somehow landed her in Stiles' grade now she's finally attending public high school.

"Hey, do you have a spare pen?" Allison asks as they walk into English. They had been in different classes for first period. "I left my pencil case at home."

"Seriously? You had History with Howard! How did you get away with not taking notes?"

"Someone lent me a pen," Allison answers, and her cheeks turn a faint shade of pink. Stiles swings his bag over his shoulder and onto his chosen desk and squints at his sister. "Someone? Or some guy?"

Allison blushes harder. "He just lent me a pen!" she exclaims.

Stiles opens his mouth to press for the identity of this he when he hears the signature click clack of heels preceding her presence. He turns to the door just as a petite girl with bright green eyes and beautiful strawberry blonde hair enters the classroom, making a beeline for the center seat in the second row - her seat of choice in every class - which happened to be the one in front of him. Not that that had anything to do with him choosing his desk.

Stiles raises his hand as she approaches the desk, a "Hey Lydia" forming on his lips. But then just as he finds his guts, she pauses and rummages through her handbag, missing his wave entirely. Stiles slumps back, watching as the girl pulls her phone out and takes her seat, her fiery hair swinging behind her. He doesn't know how hard her heart is pounding in her throat, or see the cold sweat across her forehead from when she saw that he was going to talk to her, or her phone in her lap as she types a "HE'S SITTING BEHIND ME" to her best friend.

To his right, Allison chuckles.

"So, I spoke to the famous Lydia Martin."

Stiles bangs his head against his locker door as he whips around to face his sister. He shuts the offending door to reveal a smug grin. "You what?" Then he calms himself down. "Hey Stiles, how was your day?" he mutters under his breath.

Allison rolls her eyes. "She was with the guy - Scott - when I returned him his pen and introduced herself," she says casually. "And she invited me to watch you practice tomorrow."

"You mean she invited you to watch Scott McCall practice," Stiles deadpans. "So he's the guy. No wonder he was looking at you during Econs." He has nothing against McCall - the guy would make a good lacrosse player if not for his asthma - he just envies how close he is to Lydia Martin. That, and the fact that he seems to be unknowingly leading Allison on despite already having the most beautiful girl alive.

Lacrosse is, well, lacrosse. Coach screeches at Greenberg and berates everyone else with new insults he came up with over the summer. Jackson Whittemore is a show-off. Ramirez is in goal.

Stiles spots Allison in the bleachers, next to Lydia - who now has a beanie hiding her strawberry blonde locks but still looking impossibly cute in her jacket and floral skirt, even from a distance. A textbook sits in her laps and he think of course she is studying while watching lacrosse practice. She is, after all, also the smartest person in school. Both girls seem to be looking in his general direction and his heart speeds up at the thought of Lydia Martin watching him. Then he shifts his gaze for a moment as Coach yells something incoherent and notices the '11 MCCALL' on the jersey in front of him. He sighs. Of course.

The first practice of the year usually ends early for existing members as the new freshman go through a fitness test. Tired and sore, Stiles drags himself out of the changing room where Allison is waiting for him in the hallway with her new friend.

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