True Nature

“Please let them be normal.” Ambrosia said to herself, sitting in the large driveway as her friends followed suit. “And, please let them have cleared away the creepy books like I asked.” She took a deep breath before stepping out with a smile. “Hope you’re all hungry – my mom tends to make and order food for an army no matter how few people are eating.”

“That’s okay – Scott eats like an animal.” Stiles said, earning a slap on the back of his head from the man in question.

“Your house is really nice.” Kira said, looking up at it and distracting from the two boys now in a slapping match behind her. Ambrosia spared them one more confused glance before looking back to Kira and smiling.

“Oh, thanks. Don’t know why I’m thanking you – I didn’t pick it.” She laughed, waving them to follow her through the front door.

Looking back, they were all staring up at the tall, wooden ceiling which had been the first thing she had noticed, too. Her father had started a small fire in the fireplace and, as far as she could tell, all the weird books had been put away. Slowly, they all followed her into the kitchen where several pizzas were laid out on the kitchen island and her parents were busy getting glasses and plates out. Unfortunately, the pantry was still full of herbs and her mother’s strange remedies. She just hoped they didn’t look too closely at it.

“Mom, dad, these are my friends – Kira, Scott, Lydia and Stiles. Guys, these are my parents – Esme and Lucian. Mom, ordered ten pizzas …”

“Well, I didn’t know what your friends liked.” She said, smiling at them. It was easy to see where Ambrosia got her likable nature from. And her looks. Stiles and Scott looked to each other when her back was turned, eyes wide. “Welcome, so nice to meet all of you. Ambrosia has told us a lot about you.”

“No, I haven’t.”

“Sure you have.” The slight disagreement brought a blush to the younger ones face while her mother grinned, the others laughing.

“So, did we win?” Her father asked, rubbing his hands together. When the boys nodded, he clapped. “Wonderful! Well, come on, grab a plate.”

The group sprawled out in the living room, Modest Mouse playing on a fancy record player in the corner while they talked. Her parents had stayed out of the way, thankfully, but she wondered about what they were doing. They had retired to the study some time ago and she thought perhaps they were planning the excursion to the woods the following night which she was still unsure about. But, her parents had kept up their end of the deal and acted extremely normal, especially for them, so she would of course hold up her own end and help her father out. Wouldn’t be the first time, though she did tend to have bad luck when it came to their little adventures. She wasn’t necessarily accident prone, but she did attract danger sometimes.

“So, what made you move to Beacon Hills from Romania?” Stiles asked, and she could tell he was definitely the most nosy and inquisitive one of the group though she figured him for that the day she met him.

“My parents.” She answered, sarcastically, which made the rest of them burst out laughing.

“Oh man – Stiles you may have met your match. You should have heard her while introducing herself in English.” Kira said.

“Ha ha.” He playfully glared at her. “You’re pretty evasive.”

“Mysterious.” She countered.

“Secretive.”

“Enigmatic.”

“Cryptic.”

“Elusive.”

Stiles faltered, the others watching intently as he racked his brain. Finally, he sighed dejectedly. “Maddening.”

She laughed, breaking the slight tension in the room. “My parents travel a lot. They’re writers – they search for inspiration in a multitude of places.”

“Why was that so hard? I repeat, ‘maddening’.”

She simply smirked at him as they started talking about other things. As it began to grow late, Scott mentioned having to get Kira home by her curfew and left with Lydia following shortly. She figured Stiles had gone, too, but he surprised her by carrying in the rest of the glasses from the living room as she was rinsing off plates at the sink. She didn’t say anything to him as he helped her load the dishwasher and, for once it would seem, Stiles had nothing to say either as he helped her clean up the kitchen and toss the empty pizza boxes. Between the five of them, they had demolished quite a bit and the leftovers had been put away save for a bag of the pizza only Stiles had liked which she gave the rest to him.

“Was it hard? Moving around so much?” He asked, sitting across the island from her as she sipped from a glass of water by the farm sink.

“Not so bad … I made friends, got to experience some interesting things, see new cultures. I can’t really complain about seeing so much when some people haven’t traveled at all. You know?”

“I grew up here, so I definitely know what you mean.” He looked around casually then back to her. “You guys didn’t take long to unpack.”

She laughed and nodded. “My parents – working from home gives them a lot of free time. Me, on the other hand, still has some boxes needing to be unloaded.”

Even though most of it was out of pure attraction to the new girl, a part of Stiles still believed she might have some supernatural roots and wanted to find out more about her, so without much thought he opened his mouth. “I could give you a hand.”

Quickly, she thought of what boxes were left to unpack and if anything embarrassing or weird was in them before she accepted his offer. She wasn’t tired, despite the long day and that it was getting somewhat late. Plus, it was Friday night and she had had much later evenings throughout her life traipsing around with her father. Lastly, she had a bit of a crush on Stiles Stilinski and maybe, just maybe, she wanted to spend some alone time with him. “Sure, come on up.”

Putting the glass back in the sink, she led him up the stairs and down the left hall where her room sat, across from her personal bathroom. The door was open, allowing Stiles to peek inside at the girly décor and feminine colors. It was very elegant and he wondered if that was in her style, or her mother’s. Catching his attention with a little whistle he stumbled and turned to the other direction where she was opening the door to her bedroom. Outside of Lydia, he had never been in a girl’s room before. Not since he was very young and didn’t particularly care. With Lydia, it had of course been different so he wasn’t really sure what to expect, think, feel.

Her room was just as girlish as the bathroom but with much more neutral colors including the completely white bed sitting in the middle of the room on the white carpet and with white walls that were partially covered in photographs. The large bed was hung with gauzy, romantic curtains and an antique bench at the end of it that was currently stacked with two large boxes, only one of which was open. He was immediately drawn to the wall of photographs. She wasn’t kidding when she said she made lots of friends – in every country she had mentioned living in there were pictures of her with people at different landmarks, having fun, just hanging out. There were also just pictures of cool looking places – places he thought he would really like to see.

“You like pictures.” He commented, moving away towards the box so she could start handing him books.

“I do. Pictures are worth a thousand words, right?” She joked, directing him towards the half empty bookshelf. He looked down in her hands to see piles of comics.

“Right … that why you like comics?”

She laughed, shaking her head. “Funny, Kira asked me about that, too. In non-English speaking countries, they were some of the few things I could find in English still when I was younger. And spending so much time in Tokyo, I really grew to love manga. I’m kind of a huge nerd.” She laughed, moving back to the boxes. At the bottom was a smaller box full of letters from people she had kept in contact with from all over the world.

“What’s your secret? I’ve lived here my whole life and barely made a few friends yet everywhere you go you seem to leave a lasting impression.”

She shrugged. “I don’t know. I’ve always been good at making friends. I’m pretty good at reading people.”

“Oh really?” He put his hands on his hips and watched her mimic his position, putting the box down on her vanity. “Well, come on then.”

“What?”

“Read me.”

“I don’t want to do that.”

“Why not? Come on. You’re apparently good at it. I want to see this.”

She took a deep breath and seeing he wouldn’t relent, let it out slowly. “Fine. You and Scott have been friends for a long time – in fact he was your only friend until recently. Something changed though and you’ve found yourself with more friends, even if you don’t always call of them that.”

Derek and Isaac quickly came to mind but he shook them off.

“Your mother …” Seeing him wince slightly, she stopped but the look in his eyes told her she could continue. “She died … when you were younger. Illness?” He nodded. “I’m sorry. It made things tense with your father for awhile. You’ve gotten really close to him lately, too. Closer than you’ve ever been. And you're a lot like him. You're curious, ask questions, like to investigate things until you find all the answers. You don't like not understanding something. And he’s the sheriff? That’s probably … stressful.” She joked, trying to lighten the mood. He nodded again, crossing his arms. “You use sarcasm as a defense mechanism. You … you were in love with Lydia at one point, probably for a while. Might still be – you hate Aiden. Though, I’m not entirely sure it’s just because he’s sleeping with her.”

“Calling you ‘intuitive’ might be an understatement.”

“You become really good at reading people when you’re around so many different kinds growing up. Language barriers, cultural differences – you have to understand people at the center of all of that. Everything else is just … interesting side notes.”

“I’m not.”

“You’re not what?”

“Still in love with Lydia. I love her, but as a friend.”

She grinned at him and nodded. “Noted.”