fade ➹ (Stiles Stilinski)

Chapter 35

I DO NOT OWN TEEN WOLF. Only Melanie and her plot lines.

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I was currently standing at my awfully bland locker, my thoughts mindlessly swirling about the events that had taken place last night.

Scott had lost his phone, traumatic, I know, but that's not nearly the worst part. He had gotten into some sort of werewolf battle and it is a possibility that Derek is dead. Which is highly unlikely due to the fact that the person were talking about here is Derek Freaking Hale. In whom miraculously arises from the dead daily.

"Hey." A high voice chirped behind me, "We still on for dress shopping?"

I turned to Lydia, smiling lightly. "After school?"

"Yep." She glanced down at her newly coated bright pink nails, "Allison's coming too."

"Eh, I don't know if I want to go to the Winter Formal." I shut my locker, causing it to make a slightly annoying sound, in which I grimaced to. "I may just stay home."

Her mouth agape and eyes wide, she lowered her palms and scowled at me. The deathly look dawning upon her features giving me the sudden fear that I may be murdered in a matter of seconds. And by none other than Lydia Martin.

"What on earth did you just say, Mel?"

"I just don't really want to go. I don't have a date, and I've just been a bit tired lately." I merely shrugged, the books cradled in my arms threatening to fall.

It was true. Stiles didn't like me the way I liked him, the lack of sleep from the constant werewolf business is definitely catching up to me, and Peter Hale somehow knows my father. Which scares me to a sad and painful death.

"You are not missing this dance, Melanie. I will not allow it."

"Lydia—"

"No." She shook her head with urgency, "you are going. And I will even pay for your dress."

I shook my head, "No, Lydia you don't have—"

"Oh no, I've already made up my mind."

I pursed my lips. Staring solemnly at the teenage girls grim expression. Her arms folded across her chest all while her perfectly shaped eyebrows furrowed immensely. The look now contorting her face giving me the intention she was about to cry. Something Lydia always tended to do when she demanded her way. And, of course, the sad puppy dog face always seemed to work like a charm.

"Okay, fine. I'll go."

She squealed in pure excitement,  clashing her hands together tightly, "Now all you need is an amazing dress and an amazing date."

"Yeah, the date part." I sighed, "not happening."

She groaned, shaking her head profusely, "Oh c'mon, I've got a bunch of guys basically lining up for that role sweetheart."

"I don't want to go with some self centered cocky jerk." I scrunched my nose up in disgust.

"Then just go with that boy you talk about, what's his name. . ." Lydia pondered, mindlessly trailing her sentence.