duodécima luna. [a stiles fanfic]

trece.

"Where were you?" Scott asked Stiles who had walked into the economics after following his best friend's many, many, many texts.

Him and Violeta had ended up spending the entire first period outside on the bleachers. After their intimate moment, they had ended up splitting a chocolate bar Stiles had found in his bag which, of course, had been an orange packet of Reese's Peanut Butter Cups.

This made Violeta finally bring up how he broke the vending machine.

And from that more light-hearted subject, the duo spent the period joking around and teasing each other as friends hanging around do. Except, Stiles knew that after what he'd just witnessed, they would be more than just 'mere friends.' Violeta had let him in... fully in. This wasn't like in Carlos' shop where she surprised him by offering to tell him everything he desired to know. This was about her. Not as Violeta Rodriguez; a girl who somehow knows about Scott and has some cool abilities herself. This was about a quiet girl whose grandma was dying and she wanted someone to be there for that, for her.

So, he honestly had to pinch himself a few times during one of her rants about whatever movie they had been discussing that that — that this — was actually happening.

When the bell had rung, they had to get up because a) some people had track next and were coming out for cross-country training and b) they had a mid-term tomorrow that Stiles seemed to care for. As they got up, Stiles finally checked his phone and saw the fifty messages from Scott. Violeta was happy to part, saying she needed to go actually get her books. Stiles smiled at that, feeling somewhat responsible that Violeta Rodriguez had cared enough to go get her books. Yes, he was definitely going to take pride on that positive change from how he'd arrived to Chemistry this morning and seen the chip on her shoulder in how she acted towards Jackson.

Even ignoring the fact that he was a gigantic dick.

Alas, Stiles Stlinski was practically glowing as he walked into the class and sat beside his friend at their regular spot.

"I was checking up on Violeta." Stiles said. Scott frowned and then his lips turned up, staring at his best friend with inquisitive eyes.

"Do you like her?"

"What?!" Stiles cried a little too loudly and a little too high pitched. "No, no, no, no. No way. She's uh — she's just a friend. A good friend but a friend is all. We're not, like... that. She's, like, you know..."

"What?" Scott asked.

"I dunno. Beyoncé." Stiles said. "And I'm Weird Al."

"Weird Al?" Scott asked, clearly not knowing who he was.

"Weird Al Yankovic." Stiles said. "That guy who makes the parodies. Eat It? White and Nerdy?" He listed some titles, hoping to trigger his friend's memory.

Scott's face lit up. "Oh yeah! Weird Al. I know him!"

Stiles stared dead-panningly at his friend. "...You don't know who he is, do you you?"

"No, I'm sorry." Scott said. "But anyway I don't think that matters. Like, her, uh, friends like you and—"

"Hey, testicle left and right," Jackson Whittemore interrupted Scott. "What the hell is a kanima?"

Stiles and Scott stared at each other before turning to look at Jackson. The latter of which filled them in on what he had heard Erica and Derek discussing out in the hallway. Coach was talking about how hard the mid-term when he walked up to the trio who had all shifted to face each other and discuss what was going on.