The thought made Malia smile.
Even now, she watched from their usual table as Scott and Kira were accosted by some of the other Juniors at Beacon Hills, their excited insistence that they join the ‘popular’ table at lunch could not be ignored, though they had both tried several times to get away. It seemed like they even found it a little frustating, with Kira shooting Malia several apologetic stares as they walked away towards the 'cool’ group. Malia, of course, had waved off any concern, as well as Kira’s attempt to get her to join them. Malia wasn’t on the Lacrosse team. She didn’t really care whether or not she ate alone, just as long as she ate. She knew that if given a choice, both Scott and Kira would be here, and Malia was sure she could survive one lunch period by herself. Her friends deserved to enjoy this newfound fame, no matter how much they resisted.
Even now, she watched from their usual table as Scott and Kira were accosted by some of the other Juniors at Beacon Hills, their excited insistence that they join the ‘popular’ table at lunch could not be ignored, though they had both tried several times to get away. It seemed like they even found it a little frustating, with Kira shooting Malia several apologetic stares as they walked away towards the 'cool’ group. Malia, of course, had waved off any concern, as well as Kira’s attempt to get her to join them. Malia wasn’t on the Lacrosse team. She didn’t really care whether or not she ate alone, just as long as she ate. She knew that if given a choice, both Scott and Kira would be here, and Malia was sure she could survive one lunch period by herself. Her friends deserved to enjoy this newfound fame, no matter how much they resisted.
Besides, it wasn’t really lunch that had been plaguing her thoughts since the night before.
Malia’s gaze drifted to where Stiles stood in the queue for food, animatedly talking to a certain strawberry blonde. Stiles and Lydia had been together almost constantly that day; talking in the hall, sitting beside each other in class…
Malia was happy for her friend. She really was. This was everything that Stiles had set out to do, so logically, Malia should be grateful that he had finally succeeded in gaining Lydia’s attention. Perhaps now, she would finally be free from Stiles’ crazy schemes.
Still, no matter how hard she tried, Malia couldn’t ignore the niggling feeling in her gut.
Frowning, she continued to stare blankly in Stiles’ direction, trying to put a name to whatever thiswas. Malia was so preoccupied with her thoughts, she had barely noticed someone join her at the table.
“What?” A voice cut into her thoughts.
Malia blinked to find Stiles sitting right in front of her, a confused and slightly concerned look on his face.
“What, what?” she asked quickly, snapping out of her reverie, feeling her cheeks warm under the scrutiny. This was definitely one of those moments where Malia was glad Stiles couldn’t read her mind. (Even if he knew her so well that sometimes he came pretty damn close.)
“What, what?” she asked quickly, snapping out of her reverie, feeling her cheeks warm under the scrutiny. This was definitely one of those moments where Malia was glad Stiles couldn’t read her mind. (Even if he knew her so well that sometimes he came pretty damn close.)
“You were looking at me with a huge frown on your face. Did I do something stupid?”
“More so than usual?” she asked, her brow tilting upwards, teasing him in an attempt to hide her embarrassment. Why she was embarrassed? She couldn’t say. “Nope.”
As always, Stiles relaxed into a playful smile, perfectly happy to accept the banter, but instead of making Malia feel relaxed, she felt more on edge.
“Then what’s wrong with your face?” he teased back.
“It’s just how my face looks whenever you’re around,” Malia replied, rolling her eyes. Using the opportunity to look away, Malia’s gaze remained fixed on her lunch tray, her fork idly playing with her food. “I would’ve thought you’d be eating with Lydia,” she continued conversationally a few short moments later. “You know it’s okay if you do, right?”
She peeked up at him before shovelling a forkful of something that passed for meat into her mouth, just to have something to do.
Stiles shrugged his shoulders, his head turning to look over his shoulder at Lydia. “Yeah, I guess. She wanted me to, but… you know…”
No, she didn’t know, Malia thought. She had no idea why the thought of Stiles eating with Lydia,spending time with Lydia had her so tense. Malia just wanted to push all these thoughts and feelings away. It was all too… complicated for her.
“Well, then you should,” Malia replied with an assertive nod.
“Malia…” Stiles returned his gaze to hers and gave her a ‘You know I’m not gonna do that’ look.
She in turn shot him a ‘Don’t tell me it’s not what you want’ look before replying in the exact same tome. “Stiles…”
This was exactly what Malia meant by Stiles being able to read her mind. They were both so in tune with each other’s thoughts that neither had to say a word to know what the other was thinking. Ordinarily, Malia thought it was actually pretty cool. Right now, though? It made her feel uncomfortable. She didn’t want Stiles to know what she was thinking, especially when she, herself, didn’t know what she was thinking.
“I have to head to the library soon anyway,” she eventually continued with a low sigh, propping up her cheek with one hand, the other still idly resting with the fork. “I gonna look over my notes for Mr. Yukimura’s class. Even if there’s pretty much no point.”
“Hey…” Stiiles reached across the table, resting his hand on the flat surface near hers. The look Stiles gave her made Malia pause, her breath hitching. It was strange. This wasn’t new, this reaction. What was new was that this time, she actually noticed. It had happened so many times over the years that Malia hadn’t really paid attention.
She was paying attention now.
“You’ve got this,” Stiles continued with an encouraging smile. “We’ve been through everything. You know it. You just need to, you know, relax. You’re making great progress.”
Malia nodded, trying to appear confident, but it was clear that Stiles remained unconvinced. He opened his mouth to say something more, but someone interrupted him.
A voice called from across the cafeteria, beckoning him over. Once again, Stiles declined, laughing as he shouted back across the room before turning around to face Malia again. He gave her a playful, happy smile. Content.
In all their years as friends, Malia hadn’t seen Stiles act this way. His newfound confidence no doubt had something to do with Lydia, and once again, the thought made her frown deepen. At the change in expression, Stiles’ brow lifted, once again questioning her silently.
Forcing a smile, Malia continued to shovel food in her mouth, pretending she didn’t notice. Stiles never got a chance to voice his question though. Soon enough, Lydia and a few of her friends had joined them, and when Stiles was too busy to notice, Malia had slipped away.
-
The next couple of weeks had been… weird, to say the least.
Malia was still waiting for this feeling to go away; waiting to feel normal again; balanced. But it wouldn’t come.
They had settled back into their usual routine a few days after the hype from the lacrosse win had died down.
But it just wasn’t the same.
For one, Lydia and her friends had gradually migrated over, permanently, it seemed. What was once a solitary table for four friends, had become the centre of attention. People came and went regularly, greeting Stiles and the others. They were often drawn into conversations about clothes or sports, and while Malia was never unwelcome, she never quite felt at home either.
Now, was one such example.
All the girls were cooing over the upcoming Winter Formal; discussing dresses and make up, limos and corsages. It was really, really… boring. No one but her seemed to realize the ridiculousness of having a Winter Formal in a state where the weather rarely went below 70F.
Having tuned out a while ago, Malia played with her fork, absently swiping it through the half eaten stack of mashed potatoes as everyone talked around her.
It wasn’t until she heard the mention of Stiles’ name that her ears perked up, drawing her attention in.
“So, Stiles, just to let you know, the dress I’ll be wearing will be light beige. I’ve already reserved three corsages at the florist downtown, so you can go down and pick one the day before the dance.”
Malia’s head jerked so quickly that her elbow slipped, banging into Kira’s tray and causing it to slide across the table before clattering to the floor.
“Are you okay?” Kira asked, putting a gentle hand on Malia’s shoulder, her teeth worrying her bottom lip.
“I’m fine, yeah,” she mumbled in embarrassment, giving everyone a shaky smile. “I think I accidentally dozed off.” She lied. Malia avoided Stiles’ concerned gaze, unwilling to look at him. She could already picture the look he was giving her, and she didn’t want to think that what had happened had anything to do with him. “I was up late last night studying for the math test so… I’m practically dead.”
At least it was only half a lie, she told herself later, walking through the empty hallways. After scrabbling to recover from her sudden bout of clumsiness, Malia had continued to stare at her food for the rest of lunch, pretending she wasn’t avidly listening to every word being exchanged between Lydia and Stiles.
As a result, the test had been horrible. Malia had barely been able to think, could barely register the questions… Failure was inevitable, and yet she still couldn’t focus.
She had walked out of that class feeling completely dejected, wondering why the hell she couldn’t seem to shake this feeling.
It gnawed at her gut, intensifying with each step.
Entering the library, Malia slumped into her usual seat, her brow furrowed in frustration. She had to think this through, so she tried to lay out the facts. One by one. Just like she did when trying to solve a hard math problem. … Just like Stiles had taught her. She sighed softly as the thought crossed her mind, shaking her head and trying to stay focused. The sooner she figured this thing out, the sooner she’d finally be able to let this go.
Stiles was going to a dance.
Stiles was going to a dance with Lydia.
Stiles was going to a dance with Lydia and he hadn’t told her about it.
There. That was it, Malia tried to convince herself.
Ever since childhood, Stiles had told Malia everything. He had told her things that he admitted to never telling Scott. Things about his mom, about his dad… about Lydia. So it only made sense that she was bothered with Stiles keeping this from her. Right?
But why? she wondered, staring fixedly at the books in her hands, shaking them slightly in frustration.
“Why, what?”
Malia hadn’t noticed she was no longer alone. Looking up she saw the speaker and her mouth stretched out into a tight smile.
“Nothing…” she mumbled quickly.
“Malia…”
Kira walked over and took a seat next to her. She was obviously unwilling to let this go. Malia, however, was equally unwilling to talk about.
“Nothing,” she mumbled. “I’m just… I’m pretty sure I just failed my math test.”
The look Kira gave her told Malia that her friend didn’t believe her one bit. Thankfully, Kira didn’t press.
“You’re much too hard on yourself, Malia,” Kira finally replied, reaching out to pat her shoulder. “I’m sure you did fine.”
“I only answered about half the questions, and I’m not even sure I got all of them right.” Malia pouted, laying her hands down in front of her and resting her chin on top. “I don’t know… I’m never gonna get this school thing.”
Kira remained quiet for a few minutes, just watching Malia, her hand moving soothingly on Malia’s shoulder.
“Kira?” Malia asked suddenly, tilting her head towards her friend from where it rested. “Have you ever, like, felt differently about someone you’ve known for a long time, but not really understood why?”
“What do you mean?” Kira asked, her voice raising in pitch. “It’s not a date.”
The panic written all over Kira’s face made Malia pause. She lifted her head. “What’s not a date?” she asked, her confusion over Stiles momentarily pushed aside for her confusion over Kira. “What are you talking about?”
Kira paused, eyes shifting about the room and not quite meeting Malia’s gaze. “Um, what are you talking about?” she mimicked cautiously.
“Nuh, uh…” Malia shook her head. “I asked first. What’s not a date?”
Biting her lip, Kira hesitantly replied. “Scott kind of… well, he asked if we could go to the dance together. But, like, it’s not a date.”
The news made Malia’s eyes widen in surprise, but that soon gave way to confusion. “And why is that not a date? I thought if a guy asks you, it’s a date?”
Kira shrugged. “I don’t know. I just, the way he asked didn’t feel like he was asking for a date, and I, um, didn’t want to get my hopes up. I, uh, I thought that’s why you asked about, well, you know.”
“That makes sense… I guess…” Malia nodded at the explanation, looking at Kira thoughtfully. “You should ask him.”
“Oh, no, no, no…” Kira protested profusely. “I can’t do that.”
“Why not?”
“Because, we’re all friends, you know? I don’t want to make things all awkward between us.”
“Oh…” Malia’s perpetual frown deepened as she processed Kira’s words. “So, that’s what would happen? If it was a date, I mean?”
Kira shrugged, looking almost as hopeless as Malia felt. “I think so. Isn’t that what always happens when someone likes someone more than the other?”
Their conversation gave Malia a lot to think about. They both settled into silence, each lost in their own thoughts. Eventually, Malia spoke up and offered, “I could speak to him for you?” to which Kira had protested, profusely.
-
By the time she had left the library later that day, Malia had resolved to get to the bottom of this. She didn’t understand why she felt this way, but unlike Kira, Malia couldn’t stand not knowing. So, she did what she always did when there was something she didn’t understand.
She went to ask Stiles.
Tiptoeing quietly across the Stilinski’s roof, Malia snuck inside the slightly opened window to find Stiles sitting at his desk, studying. He looked up, and the expression he wore almost seemed like he was waiting for her.
“Oh, good, you’re here…” Stiles greeted eagerly before Malia even had a chance to say anything. “I was just about to call you.”
“Er, you were?” She stood awkwardly across from Stiles, all of her own questions flying out of her mind.
“Yeah, I wanted to make sure we were good, you know? After today at lunch?” The look he gave her was riddled with guilt and apprehension, and Malia couldn’t help but wonder why. “I wanted to tell you sooner, but I didn’t know how… I know you don’t really like Lydia, and I don’t know, I just didn’t know how you’d respond.”
Malia frowned. “Why do you think I don’t like Lydia?” she asked, confused.
“Well, it’s not exactly a secret Malia,” he replied, scratching his temple. “You’ve never really liked her, and lately you’ve been really, I don’t know, distant, especially at lunch. I just, you know, didn’t want to make you feel uncomfortable.”
“Wait a sec, but does that make you think I don’t like Lydia?” she repeated before he could continue.
“Come on, Malia, I know you’ve always hated my attempts to get Lydia to notice me.” He said it matter of factly, there was no annoyance or anger in his tone. It was a statement, nothing more. “Which is part of the reason why you’re the greatest person in the world. No matter how much you don’t like her, you still helped me anyway. That’s just how great you are.”
Her frown deepened. “Stiles, I never said I didn’t like Lydia. It’s the constant schemes that I didn’t like.” She didn’t like that her best friend had to bend over backwards to get Lydia’s attention; or the fact that it had taken Stiles winning the lacrosse game for it to actually work. “I’m happy that you’re going. I want you to be happy, and if Lydia makes you happy, then I’m good."
“Really?” Stiles looked genuinely surprised, perhaps even a little disappointed by her reaction. “Oh, well, then, great! So… I guess I’m going to the dance with Lydia.” His smiled, but it didn’t quite meet his eyes. There obviously something still bothering him but he didn’t give her a chance to ask. “Actually, it’s good that you say that, because… I need your help with something.”
“My help? Why?” Malia looked at Stiles, surprised.
“Why?” Stiles laughed, a little astonished. “Because I’m going to the Winter Formal with freaking Lydia Martin, that’s why! My entire life has been leading up to this point and now that it’s here, I can hardly believe it.”
Malia swallowed harshly, unsure how to respond. Luckily, Stiles didn’t notice her hesitation.
“What does that have to do with me?” she asked.
“I need your help renting a suit. I have no idea what to get.”
She looked at him doubtfully. “And… you want me to help? Stiles, I know about as much about men’s clothes as you do. And since you always wear the same thing, that’s saying something. Why don’t you ask Scott to help you?”
“Oh, I did. He’s coming too,” he replied, waving off her concern. “And yeah, I know clothes and dances aren’t your thing, but I don’t know, I just, like, need you there, okay? I can’t explain it. Please, say you’ll come?”
Stiles reached forward and grabbed Malia by the shoulders, his face hovering in front of hers. There was no denying the excitement on his face; the happy, lopsided grin mixed with mild disbelief. Malia could never say no to that face, no matter how hard she tried. This wasn’t going to be any different.
After one short nod, Stiles’ grin widened, his body surging forward and wrapping her up in a hug. Before Malia had a chance to respond, Stiles had pulled away, babbling incoherently.
All the while, Malia had sat there, doing her best to seem excited for her friend. Stiles’ happiness was what mattered. That’s what she kept telling herself, over and over again. The uncomfortable sensation in her gut had moved to her chest, transforming into something else, something sharp and painful. But Malia pushed that aside because Lydia was everything that Stiles had ever dreamed of, and well, she definitely wasn’t anything like Lydia Martin.
-
“So, what do you think?” Stiles asked again for the hundredth time, stepping out of the change rooms in a dark brown suit. She looked up and let her gaze travel over his body. Her nose wrinkled. It didn’t really suit him, and Malia let him know it. Stiles laughed at her reaction. “Yeah, I thought the same thing. I guess, that just leaves one more to try on. In the entire store.”
A loud laugh came from the change room beside him, and Scott stepped out, decked in black. “You’ll find something eventually, man. You just gotta keep looking.” He turned his gaze to Malia and looked at her expectantly.
Studying for a moment, a slow smile crept across her features. “You look good. Surprisingly good.”
“Hey!” Scott protested mildly, letting out a low chuckle. “You say that like I never look good.”
“Well, you’ve never worn a suit before, so can you blame me?” Malia rolled her eyes, laughing. “But seriously, I think that’s the one.”
“Good,” Scott replied contently, turning to study his reflection in the mirror.
“Are you sure you should listen to her though?” Stiles’ teasing voice floated out from behind the curtain. “Malia knows nothing about clothes.”
“Then why did you ask – no beg – me to come along, brainless?” she retorted.
“First of all, I did not beg, and second of all, you two are the closest I’ve got to family. Of course, I need you.”
Stiles stepped out from behind the curtain wearing a charcoal grey suit, a striped shirt beneath the jacket, unbuttoned at the collar. Malia’s eyes widened at the sight of him, slightly dumbstruck. He looked good. Really good. She smiled at him and nodded.
“That’s the one.”
“Yeah?” he asked, a little unsure as he took a step towards hers.
“Yeah, you look great.” Automatically, Malia’s hand reached out to smooth down the collar, her eyes slowly studying his features. She had no idea where the instinct came from, but the slightly askew material had beckoned to her.
“Thanks, Malia.” He stared at her with a grateful smile. Their eyes locked for a moment, and neither looked away. Her heart beat sped up as they looked at each other, sharing their own private thoughts without speaking; a lingering glance that spoke volumes on its own. It felt just like it always had between them. Comfortable. Familiar. There was also a palpable energy between them. Something that she hadn’t really noticed before, and yet had always been there.
The spell was broken, however, when Scott’s voice cut through their thoughts and both took a surprised step back, the moment over.
“Kira wanted me to remind you about tomorrow, Malia,” he said, distractedly, still studying his own reflection.
“What’s tomorrow?” Stiles asked, his gaze switching between her and Scott.
“Oh, nothing much. For some weird reason, I’m the new style guru between us.She wants me to help her pick out a dress.”
“Really?” Stiles smiled. “That’s great. She’s helping you, too, yeah?”
Malia blinked, doing a rapid double take. “Er, no…” she replied slowly. “Why would she do that? I’m not going.” Both Stiles and Scott turned their attention to her completely, and frankly, their reaction surprised Malia a lot. “What? I don’t dance. You guys know that.”
“Yeah but…” Scott began before Stiles cut him off.
“But you have to go. Malia, this is our formal. Don’t you want to come?”
“No, not really.” Malia shrugged. “It’s not really my thing. And besides, I don’t have a date.”
“Well, neither do I,” Scott chimed in, but the look Malia gave him made Scott shrink slightly. “Well, not technically. Kira and I are going as friends. You could come with us.”
Malia pursed her lips at him. “Don’t be an idiot, Scott. It is a date, and you know it. You were just too chicken to clarify. You should, by the way. You just gotta man up and do it.” As always, Malia was entirely on point, choosing not to shy away from the topic. It wasn’t in her nature. “So, there’s no reason for me to go.” She nodded assertively.
“Except… I need you there,” Stiles cut in, taking a step closer to Malia. “Come on, it’ll be fun. And it wouldn’t be right without you there with us.” He looked towards Scott, who nodded eagerly in agreement.
“Stiles… I don’t dance.” Malia repeated, not really loving the idea of sitting and watching their entire class all over each other.
“How do you know? You could dance, you’ve just never been to one to know for sure.” He gave Malia a teasing look as he stepped forward, gathering her up in her arms and whirling her around. Unable to help herself, Malia laughed, shaking her head at him. “See? You dance.”
Malia opened her mouth to protest again, giving Stiles a look. The smile he gave her said everything. He knew she would fold. Eventually, she would agree. Just like she always did.
“Why do you even want me there? You have Lydia, remember? We would barely even see each other all night.”
Stiles shrugged, his mouth tilting into a lopsided grin. “It just wouldn’t be the same without you there.”
-
“Malia, you have to come out eventually,” Kira’s voice floated through her bathroom door, patiently waiting for her to emerge.
“I look ridiculous,” Malia called back, tugging uncomfortably at her skirt. “This is stupid. I don’t even know why I’m going to this thing.”
“You don’t look ridiculous,” Kira replied through the door, her voice soothing. “You look great. I know you do. You’ve just gotta get out here.”
Malia frowned as she stared at her reflection. The dress was uncomfortable, the shoes were uncomfortable, and her hair was all over the place. Everything just felt like it belonged on someone else. Give her a pair of shorts and running shoes any day.
A knock sounded from outside, and Malia could hear muffled voices coming from her bedroom door. She groaned, knowing it was probably Stiles rushing them along. He was due to pick up Lydia soon, which meant he would have to leave. In truth, a part of her might’ve been waiting for Stiles to leave. She didn’t want him to see her. Perhaps if he left before she came out, then she could avoid him all night. It was a win-win situation, really. He would be too busy fawning over to Lydia to notice her, and that’s the way Malia wanted it.
“Malia!” a loud knock sounded at the bathroom door, with Stiles clearly on the other side. He sounded anxious and impatient. “Come on, Malia. We need to go. What’s taking you so long?”
“Just go, Stiles, we’ll meet you there!” Malia called back stubbornly.
The room went quiet for a moment, and Malia heard someone shuffling around.
Just as she let out a sigh of relief, thinking that Stiles had given up and left, Malia heard a key in the door, unlocking with a loud click. Before she had a chance to move, the bathroom door was swinging open and there stood Stiles, gaping at her.
“Stiles!” she chastised, stalking forward in annoyance. “What if I had been naked, you idiot!” Her hand reached out to swat at his chest but Stiles didn’t move. He didn’t even flinch. Instead, he just stood there, dumbstruck, letting the impact come.
“Whoa,” he said finally, looking at her with awe.
Suddenly, Malia felt self-conscious all over again. She tugged nervously at the hem of the dark blue dress, trying to get it to sit more comfortably.
“No, don’t,” his hand reached out to steady hers. “You look beautiful, Malia.” She looked at him doubtfully, only to be met with a genuine smile. “This color really suits you.”
They stared at each other for a long moment, her hand resting in his. The way Stiles was looking at her made Malia’s heart race, the sound of blood pumping in her head and drowning everything out. Someone spoke but she barely noticed, not until the voice slowly swam to the forefront of her mind, drawing them out.
“Um, guys?” Kira interrupted timidly, and both suddenly jumped at the intrusion. “We should probably get going.”
Malia’s face grew hot. She had completely forgotten that Kira was there. She looked up to see Scott also. He flashed her a concerned looked, but mostly, he was looking at Kira, about as awestruck as Stiles had looked moments earlier.
“Right,” Stiles replied slowly, letting out a long breath. His phone buzzed, and that seemed to completely bring him back to the present. “Right! Okay, great. I have to go pick up Lydia,” he continued, flashing Malia an uncertain look. “Malia, Kira you look great, I’ll see you guys there.”
Stiles disappeared out the door, and the warmth that had filled Malia at his reaction quickly left. She was acting absolutely stupid. Stiles was her best friend. He was going to the dance with another girl. A girl that was decidedly not her.
-
It only took five minutes after stepping through a curtain of tinsel and into the overdecorated gym for Malia to come to the conclusion that she really didn’t belong. She had always been the kind of girl who was more comfortable running in the woods than standing in a crowded room. She much preferred that solitude, the peace and quiet, compared to now.
Malia stood awkwardly off to the side, drink in hand, as she watched the couples dance. She had been asked to dance a few times by guys, and even one girl, but after she had trod on one too many toes, she had simply given up and taken to observing.
She could see Scott and Kira together, lost in their own little world as they danced in each other’s arms. It looked like Scott had finally gathered up the courage to ‘clarify’ the situation. It made Malia smile just how happy the pair looked together.
Her gaze drifted and something else caught her eye.
Not far away, Stiles stood with his arms around Lydia, the strawberry blonde curls cascading down her back as she leaned her head against Stiles’ shoulder.
Surprisingly, Stiles wasn’t looking at Lydia though. He was looking at her. His gaze caught hers, a small smile gracing his lips as the pair danced. That sinking feeling once again returned, and all Malia could manage was a weak smile in return.
It had been clear for a while now why she felt this way. She could deny it all she wanted, but judging by the sight of them together… and the effect it had on her, there was no longer any doubt in Malia’s mind. She couldn’t hide from it anymore.
Malia liked Stiles Stilinski. She liked him a lot.
She couldn’t pinpoint when these feelings had started, or perhaps if they had always been there, but she knew now. There was no other explanation.
Stiles was her best friend. She had always been willing to do anything he wanted or needed. But these feelings went beyond that. They weren’t territorial or possessive, or even jealous. She just wanted him to be happy, even if it meant enduring this pain in her chest every time she realized he would never think of her that way. Ever since the third grade, Stiles had liked one girl, and one girl alone. She was only one he could ever see, and Malia, well, she simply wasn’t that girl.
-
At the first chance she got, Malia snuck out of the gym, fully intending to go home. She slipped off the painfully tall heels that Kira had convinced her to wear and began to walk slowly, taking her time to enjoy the peace and quiet.
“Malia?” a voice called from behind her, and she turned towards it to find a light shining in her face.
She blinked, waiting for the familiar face to come into view. “Sheriff?”
“Yeah, sorry about that.” Sheriff Stilinski quickly lowered the light and walked forward. “Shouldn’t you be inside?” he asked.
“I got bored and decided to head home.” Malia shrugged. It was partly true.
“Oh, okay, well then let me give you a lift home.”
She nodded, before pausing. “Why are you here?”
The Sherriff chuckled at her bluntness. He had known her long enough to be used to it by now.
“I was on patrol, just in case anyone decided to participate in under aged drinking,” he answered simply.
Together they began walking towards the car. Malia was glad she wouldn’t have to walk home barefoot. Her home wasn’t far, and she could have certainly made the distance. It was just nice that she didn’t have to. “Did you enjoy yourself?” the Sheriff asked conversationally.
Once again Malia shrugged. “It was okay. I don’t really dance.”
The Sheriff laughed. “Perhaps you just need the right partner,” he replied jokingly. Malia turned to him, confused, but the Sheriff waved off her confusion and explained further. “It’s just something Stiles’ mom used to say. It was how she got me to dance with her the first time, since I absolutely refused.”
Malia smiled thoughtfully. She had very vague memories of Claudia Stilinski, but if there was one thing she did remember, it was how much she and the Sherriff had loved each other. It had been such a stark contrast from how her own parents had been that the memory filled her heart with warmth.
“That’s… I mean…” The image of Stiles twirling her around flashed through Malia’s mind, causing her to falter before she answered. She quickly pushed the thought away. “Maybe.”
They drove the rest of the way in silence, the Sherriff only stopping her just before she exited the car. “You know, Malia, sometimes when you get what you think you want, it’s everything you thought it would be.” She frowned, but the Sherriff continued without waiting for a response. “And sometimes, it isn’t. You never know what might happen.”
“I… have no idea what that means,” she finally replied.
The Sherriff laughed again, shaking his head. “Maybe someday you will.”
-
“Ow, dammit!”
There was a loud thump and the sound of something knocking into a table. Malia bolted upright at the intrusion, scrambling to turn on her light as panic surged through her. She was fully prepared to scream, but the sight of Stiles’ familiar head of hair in the dim light, his body doubled over in pain, caused her to relax.
“Stiles!” she chastised loudly, falling back against her pillows in relief. “You scared the hell out of me.” Once she had fully recovered, Malia sat up, looking blearily at the clock. “What are you doing here?” She asked, letting out a loud yawn.
His presence here was weird on many counts, the most prominent of which was the fact that Stiles had obviously crawled through her bedroom window, something he never did. Not since the time he got stuck for ages, hanging upside down until someone found him. He hadn’t even made it through the window that time.
“You left,” Stiles announced needlessly, still a little shaky. He stood up, and walked tentatively over to the bed, taking a seat beside her.
“Yeah…” She shrugged. “I got bored. I told you dances weren’t my thing.”
Stiles nodded, but didn’t speak. Another weird occurrence. Stiles usually talked nonstop. It was clear that he wanted to say something, but he just didn’t know how to say it.
Malia had only one guess as to what it was. “Stiles, if this is about how great your date with Lydia was, can it at least wait till morning? I’m exhausted.” As if to punctuate her point, Malia yawned again, her eyes drooping shut.
“No, no… it really can’t,” he replied, but instead of sounding excitement, Stiles stood and began pacing back and forth. Malia could barely keep track of his movements.
“Stiles… Stiles!” she shouted, trying to get him to focus. He turned to her. “What’s going on?”
He stared at her for one long hard moment before opening his mouth to respond.
“You left, Malia!”
She frowned. “Yeah, so? I just came home, no big deal.”
“No, you left and it was all I could think about for the rest of the night,” he exclaimed wildly, waving his arms about. “I was having a good time, you know. I was at the formal with Lydia and she’s the girl, you know, the Lydia Martin… She was in my arms…”
“Stiles, I’m not really in the mood for this,” Malia tried to interrupt, but Stiles kept talking over her. “We can talk about how great everything went in the morning.”
“And you weren’t there. I kept thinking, ‘Where’s Malia? Why isn’t she here?’ And then it struck me, I wanted to see you. I wanted it to be you.”
The statement took Malia by with such surprise that all she could really do was gape up at him.
“But…Stiles…”
“I know, I know. I’ve put you through hell trying to help me get Lydia to notice me,” Stiles gestured wildly. “Heck, there isn’t an idea on this planet that we hadn’t tried, and yet despite all the failures, all the craziness, it was you there helping me each and every time.”
“I’m not her, Stiles,” Malia shook her head, unwilling to believe what she was hearing. A part of her thought she might still be asleep, that this might be some elaborate, life-like dream that her brain was torturing her with. “I’m not…”
“I know, and I don’t want you to be.” He came forward and sat down again, this time closer, his gaze boring into hers. “I tried to convince myself that nothing had changed. That I still wanted what I’ve wanted since forever, but I couldn’t anymore. There are only two people in this world who have put up with all my craziness; who know me, good and bad, inside and out. And who I know completely. But there’s only one who believes in me, unflinchingly. Only one that I’ve been pretending doesn’t affect me like she does, because it’s been so obvious that she doesn’t see me that way.
“For the longest time, you’ve been my best friend, and that was it. And I thought I was okay with that, and if that’s what you want, then okay… we’ll go back to the way it was. But I needed to say this, I needed to get this off my chest…
Stiles was cut off midsentence by Malia, her face surging forward until her lips were firmly pressed against his. The entire time Stiles had been talking, all through his grand speech, all Malia could think about was her lips, and what they would feel like to kiss.
Both their eyes widened in surprise before Stiles’ hand came up to cradle her neck, sinking into the kiss further. It was awkward, teeth clanking against each other as they slowly learned from each other. Malia could feel herself melting into Stiles arms, her hands greedily tugging him closer, wanting more, and Stiles kissed her back with equal passion.
The kiss lingered until they were both breathless, only breaking apart for air, their foreheads pressed together as they caught their breath.
“You didn’t let me finish,” Stiles said softly, blinking at her slowly.
“You talk too much,” she replied fondly.
“Yeah, but that’s why you like me, you can’t deny it.”
“Stiles, shut up and…”
This time it was Stiles who interrupted, leaning in to kiss her; slow and lingering, taking the time to savour each and every moment. Malia never wanted it to end, and in a way it never did, because as it turned out, she was that girl after all. His girl.
- N x
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