Silvern | Stiles Stilinski (Book 2)

Chapter Forty-Five: Recollections

"Well, hopefully Beacon Hills will be your last stop for a while"  the principal said as we continued to walk through the school, until we were led inside a classroom. "Class, these are our new students, Allison and Ariana Argent. Please do your best to make them feel welcome." I nervously examined the room, my eyes stopping for a second as I saw a boy sitting at the back of the class. He gave me an cheeky grin and curiously watched me as I hurried to the furthest available seat from the board. 

"Try to find a memory of Stiles, a memory where you felt a connection with him"

Stiles seemed to be panicking when I got there, "What the hell happened?" I asked him.

"I handcuffed him to the radiator but he got away" his breathing started to speed up, so it squeezed his hand in mine.

"It's gonna be okay, we'll find him. I'm sure that he won't hurt anyone. Didn't he say something about Allison being his anchor?" I asked as we got into his jeep, driving off.

"Yeah," he squeezed my hand, "But they're taking a break at the moment" I nodded. "Who's your anchor?" he asked after a few minutes of silence.

After a pause, I answered, "My mom. We used to be really close but she died when I was a kid" my free hand began to fidget with my necklace.

"Me too," I looked up at him quizically, "Frontotemporal Dementia, I was about ten years old. Was in the room when she..." he didn't finish the sentence.

"I still can't remember his face, I just remember that he said it was to 'make an example for other hunters'" I sighed.

Stiles frowned as he looked at me, "She was murdered?"

I nodded, "I was just stood there, watching it happen. And then this guy came over to me, he got my mom's phone and told me to call Uncle Chris, made me promise not to tell anyone about him" my head dropped a little, examining our interlocked hands.

"I promise I won't tell. Not many people have seen what we've seen, so I guess we should probably stick together"

"Find another memory, keep looking for Stiles"

I followed Stiles to his jeep, getting in with him. "What?" he sighed, turning to look at me.

"Please can you go a bit easier on Jackson?"

He scoffed, "Why?"

"Because you don't know what his life is like"

"Oh, yeah. I'm sure that Porsches and designer clothes and giant wads of cash are really traumatising"

"Money can't protect you from everything, Stiles." He rolled his eyes, not replying. "I know why you really hate him"

"Oh, really? Go on, psychoanalyse me, tell me why I hate him so much!" he shouted.

"Because of Lydia, because you love her!" a single tear rolled down my cheek.

"You're wrong. I'm over her! I've spent ten years wasting my time on someone who'll never give me a second thought and I'm done" he spat.

"Liar. You just-" I was suddenly cut off as he crashed his lips against mine. My eyes widened in shock as I pushed him away, getting out of the car and sprinting off. I didn't turn back, no matter how much I wanted to.