It had been two week. Stiles had focused all his energy on practicing lacrosse. He went to the field with Scott on the days he wasn't with Derek coming up with a plan to defeat this new evil force in their lives. Scott didn't really talk about it with Stiles, knowing that his friend really wasn't ready to hear about it. And that was okay with Stiles. He was okay with being ignorant and focusing on something that was real, and human and something he could control. The days that Scott was busy his dad brought him into their yard and would toss the ball on the ground, insuring Stiles that he needed to be able to retrieve the ball first before anything else. Stiles rolled his eyes, but knew that his dad was right. Also in the last two weeks Stiles had developed an unusual addiction to coffee. It wasn't going to help with his already jittery disposition and after reading what not to take his medication with, he switched to decaf. He found this small coffee shop in town that he had never seen before and he would go in there sometimes and just sit, drink his decaf coffee and not think about werwolves or Lydia, especially Lydia, because she was the reason he started to drink coffee. It was like every time he closed his eyes he saw her with Jackson. There was no way he was going to get over her if he saw her behind his eyelids every other second. So sleep was lacking, but coffee had been helping. It was there in that nameless coffee shop that he had run into Allison, he hadn't talked to her in weeks, and the night when Jackson turned he wasn't in the mindset to even look at her. They met there a few times, she explained that she was going to work on herself, and asked if Scott was really okay with the break up, and Stiles told her about how hard it was to lose a parent, and that he was sorry, since he never actually got a chance. It was nice, talking to Allison about something normal, not that death was normal, it was terrible actually, it was just different than all the other stuff going on in their lives. Stiles never told Scott about meeting up with Allison, partially because the girl asked, the other part of him didn't say anything because he liked to have something to keep to himself, other than his anger and the constant gripping annoyance that he was inadequate to be apart of something so big. Allison didn't make him feel like that. Allison was human too, Stiles and Allison were more alike than they ever thought.
It was on that one afternoon when Stiles was supposed to practice grounding balls with his father that everything started to surface. It was when the sun was setting that he had received the call that his dad was working late. Stiles didn't mind being alone, it was just that for two weeks he didn't have the time to think, he was either with Scott or his dad playing lacrosse or Allison having their own dead mothers club. He was able to chose to do something else, not worry about what was up with Scott and Derek or what was keeping his father late at work, and especially what Lydia was doing. He hadn't spoken to her since the night he drove away. He assumed she was spending all her time with Jackson, in Stiles mind they were back in their honeymoon phase, going to dinner, watching movies, having unsupervised sleep overs. Stiles shuttered, falling back into one of his moods.
He didn't want to be bitter about it, he didn't want to feel like a selfish kid who didn't get what he wanted, but he knew he wouldn't be able to pretend that everything was rainbows in the presents of Lydia Martin. She broke his heart. He knew what he had told Scott, that he'd wait for her, that his ten year plan to woo Lydia Martin would stretch itself to fifteen. But by then she would be in an ivy league school, on her way to rule the world and Stiles would still be right here in Beacon Hills, tricking his dad into eating veggie burgers and googling werewolves.
It was when it was almost too dark to see that he realized he had been sitting out in his yard for far too long. It was the sound of crunching sticks that brought him out of his pity party. He looked to the left, in the direction of his back gate, thinking Scott was going to show up, climb up the lattice rose vine his mother hand put up years ago to get to his room. But it wasn't Scott, and it wasn't a robber, Stiles frowned, almost sad that there wasn't somebody coming to invade his home.
His voice was tight, his posture no longer relaxed. He started to think that the reason he hadn't seen her was because he hadn't been thinking about her, but now, here she was, in his yard. She was a home invader, tainting his private space with her presence. First his bedroom, now his yard.
"How are you, I.. I haven't seen you in a while."
"I'm fine, Lydia. Did you need something?"
She sat down next to him, Stiles was being cold, obviously so, and she wasn't taking the hint, or she was just ignoring it, in typical Lydia Martin fashion. She got comfortable on his back porch steps.
"I don't know what I did wrong, okay, but I'm sorry for it. I thought we were making our way towards friends, and then after that night, you fell off the face of the earth. What did I do?"
Stiles felt a sensation in the pit of his stomach, he wanted to laugh. Was she serious?
"Lydia, we're not friends. You just needed me to help you get Jackson back, and I did. Okay, it's over now. You can stop pretending. And I'm not looking for an apology, so you can go now."
Lydia had never heard Stiles be so cruel to her. Even when he was yelling at her that night in his bedroom he wasn't as cold as this. She couldn't see it in his eyes, that look he always used to have when they talked, like his life was being made, now his eyes held some sort of resentment. Lydia sighed and looked to the sky. She didn't want to leave like this, she had been worried about him for weeks now.
"God, aren't the stars gorgeous tonight?"
Lydia went to change the subject, Stiles just felt nothing.
"I haven't brought myself to look at the sky in I can't tell you how long."
He laughed, a bitter sad sound. Lydia frowned while looking away, not at the sky again, but not at Stiles either. She didn't know what to say, how to handle all this. She came to Stiles because she didn't know where else to go, what else to do to make him feel better. But here they were, making even less progress than they had before Lydia could remember his name. Scott had told her to talk to him, if she wanted answers. Scott didn't want to get involved, though he wasn't acting too warmly towards her either. Scott and Stiles were supposed to be her friends, since Allison locked herself away all she had was Jackson, and even he was distancing himself, spending his time with Derek Hale. Lydia had always loved the night sky, she had always loved stars and forcing Jackson to sit out with here and watch them. He didn't see the novelty and Lydia frowned, thinking that Stiles would have. Though he did have good reason, he didn't like the sky because he didn't like the moon and everything that came with it. Lydia wondered if she would feel the same after Jackson started turning during them.
It was all going to come back to Jackson, she thought sadly. Stiles didn't like him, and he never would.
"I'm not acting like this to be a jerk, Lydia."
"I hate being mean to you, but I can't just pretend nothing happened. I'm not going to anymore."
Stiles mumbled, his voice a little stronger than before. Lydia noticed Stiles fidgeting with a thin stick from the ground around them. His fingers rubbed the course bark debating how much to reveal about his current mindset, how much to not burden her with. He had her, she was right there, waiting to listen. She wasn't leaving, or making an excuse, she was with him, to actually talk to him, not concoct a half ass plan to salvage Jackson's soul, not to talk about their best friend's love lives. Just here, sitting with him in the middle of Stiles' backyard. So, he took the chance, said what he had only dreamed of, what he had been imagining when he closed his eyes each night for a restless sleep.
"I... I have had these feelings for you, for so long. And they have gotten me no where. Maybe if I had told you how I felt when we were eight none of this would have happened. Things might have been different. I wouldn't feel like this, Lydia."
"What do you feel?"
"Like the worlds ended."
Lydia looked away. She had to have known coming here would end like this, make her feel like a monster because she didn't love Stiles Stilinski. It wasn't like she did it on purpose. She met Jackson first, Jackson had all the qualities she was looking for in a boyfriend. Not Stiles. She had finally gotten Jackson back, and things were good between them. She didn't' wand to apologize for that.
"and I don't want you to go feel guilty about this. Okay? It's my own fault."
But Lydia did feel guilty, because she knew how he felt. Hadn't he pretty much told he he'd be miserable if she died? She imagined it to be how she felt when she thought Jackson was. Lydia sighed and looked to the ground. That was a feeling she never wanted to endure again. But here Stiles was, living it over and over and she wasn't helping the situation. There was only one thing she could do.
"I'm gonna go, but I am sorry, Stiles."
Lydia got up, looking at the boy she had just been sitting next to.
"and who knows? When school starts again, maybe we could try being friends."
Stiles nodded silently, not even looking at her as she left. He knew he was being stubborn and she was actually trying to make him feel better, but it wasn't just the fact that she didn't love him or appreciate him. It wasn't the fact that he knew she was going right back to Jackson, or that he'd spend a whole summer without her in it. It was the fact that she lied, that she was the one that brought Peter Hale back to life and she wasn't going to tell him. He had to find out from Scott who found out from Derek. Friendship was based on trust and though Stiles loved her, and knew it wasn't going to be easy getting over Lydia, at the moment, he didn't trust her, and he wasn't sure he could ever let himself. Because Stiles was sick of being let down and he was sick of never coming first, to anyone. He knew that he deserved better and knowingly or not, Lydia Martin had just given him the confidence to move forward.
Or at least, he was going to try.