Stutter

My head was still spinning from the kiss Derek had attacked me with. My lips were still numb from the sensation and still hypersensitive to the memory of his lips against mine. I could swear that I could still feel his skin and neck hair under my fingers, against my palm. The light pressure from his hands on my shoulders was still present and he ghost of his touch was still haunting me as I took the long walk to my next class. And it sure felt like a long walk. My head felt light and I could swear that my vision was slightly fussy around the edges from the want and need that were both coursing through my veins. I was not even sure if I was really awake right now. It still felt like one of those dreams that kicked off way too good and turned 180 degrees, skipping into a nightmare. It felt surreal and that nagging in the chest that's always there just before a dream goes bad was making its presence known. Impossible to shake off.

Maybe it had to do with the fact that I was late for class and was sprinting through the corridors like the devil was on my tail. My heart was racing and somewhere underneath the memory of what had just transpired I was panicking slightly from being late. I had sworn to myself that of all reasons for a detention, being late was not going to be one of them. So maybe the nagging in my chest was all just the panic at being late. The panic at Derek bloody Hale delaying me for class. I needed to give him a piece of my mind. It was almost a pity that animals had such short term memory that you had to tell them off right after the incident. Not that it would have worked on Derek. He'd just have had a reason to rip my guts out and send them to the alpha as a peace offering. How high thoughts I had of pack-less wolf. I would have to remind myself not to mention that to him.

Skidding as I reached the door I grabbed the door frame to catch myself and stop my violent motion. As I came to a halt and managed to take in the room it seemed like I had manged to get there in time. I blinked a few times, before I managed to move to my seat and slip into my seat. Choach's classes were not the most interesting, so I was a little impressed that I had the grades that I did. Scott was already there and when he spotted me he seemed a little beside himself. I never got to talk to him, because as soon as I slipped into my seat Coach made it through the door. Was I feeling lucky? Yeah I was. Should I be this lucky? Nope, I should not. Was I seeing a storm coming? Yeah. A big one. Because Stiles Stilinski was not that lucky. I just wasn't.

Yet, even if I was right now I was not going to jinx it by expecting something to come crashing down on me.

---

Lacrosse practice was, after Scott's cut to the team, as uneventful as usual. I was on the team that always lost - as usual, but I got it. The team needed to learn how to work together, and Jackson was not happy with Scott. How the guy managed to stay annoyed over such petty thing for so long was beyond me. He had to have some kind of girly gene in him that made him capable of being annoyed at someone for so long. Sure Scott and I butted heads from time to time, but it was not like that. One would think that I was jealous of Scott for getting on the team and I was not, but I wasn't. In a way I was because now it was not the two of us bench-warming, and sure sometimes I wish that I had gotten the bite, but.. to be completely honest with myself I was happy for Scott. I was going to get my time to play too. Time was simply not for it yet. But when it came I would show them that Stiles Stilinski could play lacrosse just as well as those on the team. And I was going to make my dad proud.

Nothing seemed out of place, except for the fact that Scott had not been talking to me a lot, and not even when we went to change and get home, I saw anything scary. Scott might have just had a small spat with Allison. After all, her father was a hunter, hunting Derek and, of course, Scott. So really, I was not worried. Not even a little. Kicking my shoes off I didn't think much about the fact that Scott had not talked to me about Allison yet. He never shut up about her. Maybe he had decided to listen to me which meant that there would be two full moons in a month and 16 in a year which was not possible. "Scott? Are you sick or did you just decide to listen to me for once?" I finally asked, suddenly finding the silence from my best friend a little unnerving.

"What?" Scott asked and turned to look at me, confusion in his eyes. I gave him a bored and judging look. "Really?" I just asked and shook my head before I made it out of my shirt. "Y'know you've been quest as a ghost since lunch, right?" I asked, my head not following the maths right now. "I can take it when I ignore you - not the other way around. That's not how this works." I commented, frantically waving a hand between Scott and me to indicate our friendship. Apparently I made no sense, because he looked blank as a canvas. Again I could not believe it and looked at him with large eyes and disbelief painted on my face. "It's like trying to convince you that you're a girl." I commented sarcastically. When nothing happened I gave up and changed out of my gear, not spotting Scott's look turned towards me. If I had I would've asked him what the hell was wrong with him and that was only how new kids looked at Dannie the first time until he beat their ass in lacrosse. Despite his position as goal keeper.

---

As we left for the parking lot, Scott still hadn't said much to me. Usually we would be talking about something - so now it was getting a little weird. More than a little weird actually. Walking with Scott in complete silence was like trying to get Lydia's attention. But I saw how well it went when I had confronted him about it in a locker room, so I just shut up. Maybe he would catch on that his silence was spooking me out a little bit. I usually talked for two, but he would still talk for one himself. I was not sure if he got the memo or his head finally allowed him to say whatever he had been hugging so tight to his chest. Whatever that was. I would not give a damn unless someone had died. Then I would.

"Say, Stiles. Are you still trying to get Lydia to go to prom with you?" He asked out of the blue. I was a little stunned, because that was not usually something we talked about. Maybe that was why I took a moment to get my brain going. "Yeah, but it's not going too well, taking that she's ignored me the last 10 times I've asked her, even if Jackson's ignoring her." I sighed with a shrug of my shoulders. I had no idea where he was going with this. He knew that I was never going to give up on Lydia. Not in a million years. She was the queen I was looking for. Apparently Scott didn't believe me with the way he sounded. "So you're not giving up on her." I gave him a look that asked him if he was serious as we reached my truck. "No."

The look on Scott's face told me that he was not done with the odd questions. "What about Derek?" The way he asked the question had me furrow my brows. I felt my heart pick up a little, my palms growing sweaty slowly but steadily. I looked at my best friend not sure if I liked where this might be going. Especially not since that nagging feeling of the dream turning to a nightmare had made its presence known to me again, this time punching me in the gut like a 6 pound brick wrenched into my stomach. "What about him?" I asked, not sure of how to answer the question. The sound of my heart pounding was like a prominent war drum stemming in the background, faster and faster, louder and louder - like a scene from a movie when the victim is hiding and the killer is getting closer and closer. My hands were just as sweaty and now I wished that I knew if I should react in defense and denial or if I should act like I had not a clue of what he was talking about. A shame I was a terrible liar when I was nervous and especially when I needed to explain myself.

The blood rushing in my ears and the sound of my heart pounding almost deafened me and it was only barely that I heard what Scott said next."If you're still after Lydia then what the hell do you call making out with Derek Hale in an empty corridor like a good girl trying to be bad?" He shot. I swear my heart stopped when he spat the words. It sounded like a mix between betrayal for me keeping it from him and disbelief that I was even considering exploring my sexuality. I had to take a moment to get my words back and, by the look on his face, he knew that I would rather face a pack of alphas than try to explain myself. "A very complicated way of butting head with an enemy?" I commented, my voice breaking a little and my questioning tone telling Scott exactly what he needed to know. And I could have killed myself right then and there. Now Derek was definitely going to get his ass kicked, but not by me - not if Scott got to him first. I could already see the wolf in Scott ripping its way through his barrier and control. "We're not done." He growled before he took off, barely containing himself.

If I had ever felt scared of Scott it had never been as bad as it was not. I had seen Scott mad, but this was different. And the nagging idea that Scott would come after me when he was done with Derek was enough to have my throat tie knots and the beginning of a panic attack to come over me. Even if it had been years since I had last had one, I never forgot the feeling of them and I never liked them any more. I had to lean against the side of my car as I tried to breathe slower, but it only seemed to get faster and more labored. My vision also seemed to blur slowly but steadily as my attempt to calm down failed. My thoughts were swimming, my arm growing weaker and I could only wait for my knees to give in to my weight. I had never meant to tell Scott about any of it. I had never intended for it to get that far, and I had never intended to get even a little attached.

Feeling the asphalt against my palms was the only tell-tale that my legs had given in, because my vision was swimming like I was under water from the lack of oxygen in my system. I didn't even register the hands on my shoulders or the distinctive smell that I should just know by now. Not even as one of the hands gripped my neck, a voice I should have known from the very first syllable spoke to me in a tone that I, underneath my panic attack, hated an loathed but couldn't quite live without if I had the choice to get rid of it.