The Art of Deflowering

There was only one thing Georgia could conclude from her dalliance with Stiles: she was off her game. Well, only marginally, really. She had gotten him into her room, but the fact it had taken so long to do so was kind of disappointing on her part. Yes, there were complications and interruptions of the sort, but Georgia had to take some blame of the events throughout the course of the night.

Especially at the end. The kiss on the forehead? What was up with that? Boys didn’t kiss Georgia on the forehead. They kissed her lips, cheeks, arms, breasts, and other places but her forehead – never. Georgia knew she liked it but was it what she wanted? Not exactly. And further than that, what did forehead kisses even mean? Did Stiles see her as a friend or did he want something sexual? Was he looking for a romantic thing or did he just want a fling?

Georgia decided she needed to clear her head of Stiles, perhaps if she didn’t think about what was the proper way to seduce him then the idea would come to her naturally. So she decided to go down to the police station which she had been putting off for a while – a few months ago, she had committed petty theft and had completed her community service, but was yet to get the station to sign off on it so it could be banished from her record. It was a one-time thing that Georgia did for the thrill, but she regretted it now as she wanted to get out of Beacon Hills, which she wouldn’t be able to do if she had a criminal record.

After a moment’s thought, Georgia decided to dress demurely for the occasion – she was going to a police station, after all. It was surprisingly chilly in Beacon Hills that day, so Georgia fished out her favourite black shorts and a light sweater, hoping that the men would appreciate her covering up and perhaps make the whole ordeal easier.

Once she arrived at the police station, Georgia was told to wait ten minutes so the Sheriff in charge – how ironic that it was Sheriff Stilinski - deal with her record. She sat in one of the seats, silently cursing herself for not bringing headphones. Her phone had only thirty percent of battery and she wasn’t keen on letting it die. Hearing someone suddenly enter the police station, she was surprised to see Stiles talking to his dad, the Sheriff. Well, perhaps she shouldn’t be so surprised.

As though Stiles could sense Georgia looking at him, he looked past his father to find her smiling at him, dressed sort of plain but he liked how innocent she looked. If only others knew how ironic that was.

Georgia grinned, sending Stiles a wink before she pretended to be mesmerised by something on her phone. She looked down for only five seconds or so before looking up again, blushing when she found Stiles still looking at her. His eyebrows were frowning in confusion, unsure to why Georgia would be in the police station. Although maybe he shouldn’t have been surprised. It was Georgia, after all.

Georgia nodded her head towards Sheriff Stilinski, who had just realised the silent conversation that was taking place between the two teenagers. He chuckled and placed a hand on Stiles’ shoulder, with Stiles waving at Georgia awkwardly before leaving.

When Sheriff Stilinski finally approached Georgia, he didn’t make a comment about her record or how she was or anything like that, instead he said something that threw Georgia completely off.

“I see the way you look at my son,” he told Georgia solemnly. “He’s lost his mother and his childhood best friend, don’t be another girl he loses as well.”

Georgia could only stare at Sheriff Stilinski, unsure of what to say or how to react. The way the Sheriff was talking implied that Georgia had feelings for him – feelings that Georgia had established existed (barely, but they were there) – but to a point where she cared about him more than she thought. No, she told herself. Stiles is just another notch on your list and nothing else. But she could only convince herself for so long that what she felt for Stiles was not just feelings of lust.

This wasn’t happening. This wasn’t meant to happen. What was she supposed to do now?

Bang him, she decided. She had to do what she had done to other boys before – hump and dump Stiles like a sack of potatoes. She could release her sexual frustrations and any other feelings she harboured towards him and then whatever she felt would disappear.

Georgia could do it. In her mind, she had no other choice.