LOVERS ROCK

chapter eleven ; formality
[ season one - episode eleven ]

Tears stained the girl's face as she stepped into her home, unsure if that was what she should be calling it anymore. It certainly didn't feel like one. It was supposed to be full of warmth and love, a place where families talked to one another, where they didn't keep life-altering secrets. It was a description her house didn't fit. Her father did have a life-altering secret, one that jeopardized her best friend's life. Perhaps her house never fit into the idea of a loving home, she wasn't sure how long he had been a hunter, perhaps her whole life, maybe everything she knew was a lie, it didn't seem to come hard to her dad.

Honey slammed the front door behind her, alerting her father of her presence as the man jolted upright on the sofa he'd lounged on for hours, waiting for his daughter to come home, or for her to text him to say that she was staying with the Stilinski's. Whatever he expected it wasn't that it would be edging onto midnight when she returned, that she would come in like a storm. With a furrowed brow he walked into the foyer, wondering who or what had put his daughter in a bad mood this time, they seemed to be frequent lately.

"Hey, Kiddo, where you been-" The man began to speak as he turned the corner, seeing Honey halfway up the stairs, she turned to him with the expression of a girl who had been hurt, lied to, and deceived, he quickly noticed the tears that had stained her cheeks. "What happened?" The man asked as he began stepping closer to her on the staircase, the blonde girl sitting down with her head buried in her hands. "Did you and Stiles have a fight? Do you want me to talk to him?"

"This is nothing to do with Stiles." Honey snapped at him, her head raised as she looked into the eyes of the man who had caused her this pain. She was speechless, trying to ask him whether it was all true, whether he really had something to do with this, whether this was why he'd hated it when she was with him, not because he thought he was a bad guy who was unfit for his child but because he knew the truth, that it wasn't a normal teenage relationship. "I just- I think I'm finally starting to understand why mom hated this place."

"I thought you liked it here. You've made some great friends. Allison. Scott. Jackson." He listed, a slight nod from the blonde. "I even thought you were starting to move on from you know who. It seemed like he took your mind off of all of that."

"Who?" Honey questioned with a furrowed brow.

"Stiles," Jude answered plainly, believing that the answer was obvious already. "I haven't seen a smile like the one you have when he's around in a long time. He's a good match for you." He said as the blonde's face continued washing over with confusion until the pin finally dropped, Honey quickly disagreed, shutting down the idea before her father could go too far with it. She and the Stilinski boy were friends, just friends, nothing more. "But Sheriff Stilinski said-" He mumbled as the girl's brows raised, wondering what exactly Noah had said to give off that impression. "Even if there is nothing going on with the two of you, which I wouldn't be mad at, you seem happier in Beacon Hills with him and your other friends than you ever did in Louisiana. Just give it a chance to work, things will fall into place and you'll question ever having this conversation. I promise."

Scott McCall followed Coach Finstock through the locker room, being told that he couldn't go to the formal, not while he was failing three classes, one of which was one of Coach's classes, they had suggested kicking him off of the team too, that was where the man drew the line, refusing to give up his best player. But as for formal, that was out of his hands, it was lacrosse or the formal. Scott surprisingly chose the dance, insisting that if that was the compromise, then he quit, it was an option that Coach didn't provide nor accept, in fact, he laughed at the idea. He gave the wolf a warning, if he did dare to come to the dance after he had been told not to, he would personally drag him out by his teeth. With the werewolf's mood, it might just be his canines.

The werewolf was flabbergasted, in need of a plan, luckily, his buzzcut-haired best friend walked in at the right time, Stiles was good with plans, he could think of something that could help him to protect Allison if he couldn't be there. While Stiles was up for helping him figure that out, they had another problem, Allison wasn't the only one they had to worry about finding out the truth. Honey was close to figuring it out. Scott was confused at first, Honey knew about werewolves, in fact, she knew more about than them the werewolf himself, it didn't make sense that Stiles was worried about her, until he elaborated, explaining what had happened when she came over last night. And after that, Scott declared that he had to do something he never wanted to do. He had never imagined needing to do it either. Seeking the help of Jackson.

Stiles slammed Jackson's locker shut, ambushing him right in the middle of the locker room, he immediately rolled his eyes at the sight of the two nerds standing on the other side of it. Giving it the time of day for all of a few minutes as Scott explained the plan he and Stiles quickly conjured up in the short time of walking across the locker room.

"You want me to take her to the formal?" He asked with a contorted face.

"I don't want you to. I need you to." Scott corrected him, this was far from a want. He wanted the two of them as far apart as possible, further than restraining order distance. Stiles wasn't thrilled about the idea either as he stood with folded arms and a scowl, the idea of Jackson taking her to the formal, dancing with her, acting as a couple, made his stomach turn.

"Screw you." Jackson spat out. "You know what? Screw you, too. In fact, screw each other."

Stiles tried to defend his best friend, reminding Jackson of the time not so long ago when Scott had saved his life, or left him for dead as the jock saw it, even if the werewolf had taken a bullet for him, there was no wound, therefore, it didn't count. Scott tried to reason with him, pleading that he did this for her and not them. She was in danger, serious, around-the-clock danger that meant she needed someone to keep an eye on her while she was at the dance. Once again, the werewolf pleaded that he did this for Honey.

Jackson stopped him, backing up, clarifying that he had just said that this was for Carter and not Allison, the two best friends looked between each other with furrowed brows, questioning if the fact this was for Honey was a detail that had slipped past them. Suddenly there was a change in Jackson's tune, he had gone from point-blank refusal to jumping at the opportunity, asking why they hadn't mentioned that sooner. If only he had known, he would have taken them up on their offer instantly.

Somehow, the change in his tune didn't fill them with relief or confidence that Honey was going to be safe at the dance, it only made them more worried about it, perhaps they should have kept it between them, leaving it to the two of them to keep both her and Allison safe. It was too late, it had been spoken and Jackson had agreed, there was no going back now, he reassured them the blonde would be well taken care of, and that he would ask her right now. Before he could shove past them, Scott extended an arm out in front of him, stopping the jock with a warning, this date would be nothing more than just friends. Jackson scoffed, the werewolf reiterated, if he dared to even look at Honey in the wrong way, he would do something about it.

Of course, Jackson didn't believe it, not for a moment, which was why Scott knew that he had to prove just how far he was willing to go, his eyes began shining their golden yellow and he bore a sharp set of claws and canines, that alone instilled fear in Jackson, however, Scott provided him with a demonstration of what he could expect if he dared to touch Honey.

By the end of it, Jackson was rushing through the halls to find the blonde girl at her locker, with beads of sweat dripping from his forehead, he panted out the question, slightly scaring the girl. For a moment, she had completely forgotten about him taking Allison to the formal, his strange outburst had distracted her from it, but when she had remembered and asked, he answered her simply, there had been a change of plans. Stiles was taking Allison now. That in itself seemed as bizarre to her as Jackson asking her, but the blonde chose not to question it, accepting his offer.

"Is this really necessary?" Honey asked, looking at the brunette girl sitting in the driver's seat. "I know we said we would spend more time together, but did she have to come to?"

"I'm right here." The redhead piped up from the backseat.

"Unfortunately" She groaned, piercing her eyes at the girl through the rearview mirror. She felt a glare on her too, only this one came from Allison, she turned to the Argent girl who provided her a pleading look, hoping that for just one afternoon the two of them could get along, for her sake. After the events of last night, she needed nothing more than just one normal teenage girl day, a girly shopping trip, reminding her that even if her family did have some big secret, she could still be the Allison she was before she found out. "Fine." Honey sighed. "Let's get it over with."

The three girls stepped onto the elevator, an awkward silence shared between them as they all awaited the beginning of a conversation, for someone to break the ice, paving the way for a new, complicated relationship between Honey and Lydia. But Allison didn't even try. It was as though something had hit her along with the fresh air, completely altering her mood, she wasn't the girl they were used to who was happy and smiling. Her lips were pulled into a thin line, her stare on the ground, suddenly uninterested in entertaining the spontaneous shopping trip.

Lydia looked past the brunette, mouthing the question of what was going on with her to Honey, but the blonde shrugged, she wasn't sure, at least she wasn't sure whether that was the reason why Allison's mood had changed so suddenly. She could understand if it was, it had certainly put a damper on her mood since last night, nobody would be the same after seeing that. Seeing a werewolf for the first time wasn't easy on anyone. It was a thought that would never leave her, Honey was sure of that because her first time seeing it still played on a loop in her own mind. It would be the same for Allison too.

The redhead sighed loudly, causing the brunette to raise her head. "What's wrong with you?"

"Nothing wrong, I just have a lot on my mind." The Argent answered simply, unconvincingly.

"You could smile at least." Lydia teased. "Ever heard of the saying "Never frown. Someone could be falling in love with your smile?" Smile, Allison. I'm buying you a dress." Honey rolled her eyes, biting her tongue. She wanted to tell the redhead that she shouldn't have to buy a dress to make it up to the brunette in the first place, there was no reason that she should have been kissing the boy that Allison liked behind her back, especially not behind her boyfriend's back too. She tried to shake it off, choosing not to look at the redhead at all, perhaps it would make it easier to keep her thoughts to herself for the remainder of the afternoon.

"I have to admit, as far as apologies go, that's more than I expected," Allison told the redhead, it was an apology she insisted wasn't necessary, but Lydia remained adamant anyway. She wasn't good at friendly gestures, or at being friendly at all, and with the lack of Scott in her life lately, it seemed like the girl needed a pick-me-up. Lydia smiled, proud of herself, and then came the but. "But not as much as I'm going to ask," Allison added, the girl's face dropping in an instant. Even Honey was at a loss, unsure what the brunette intended on asking from the girl, what she could possibly need that was more than Lydia buying her a formal dress.

"What? What's that supposed to mean?"

The answer was simple, or more so, the instructions were. Lydia was going to dump the roided-up jock that she had agreed to go to the formal with so she could go with someone else instead. Who? Both Lydia and the blonde girl asked, curious as to who was desperate enough to agree at the last minute. Just as they stepped off of the escalator, she received her answer. Him. The girl said as she pointed over to Stiles, the boy accidentally sprayed perfume in his mouth, as always, he had poor timing and a questionable first impression. Honey's face pulled into a smile, taking joy in the horror on Lydia Martin's face. A nerd. Her worst nightmare. She couldn't help but use a quote on the girl. Don't frown, Lydia. Someone could be falling in love with your smile. With her lips pulled into a smile Allison nudged the girl, shooting her another warning look, Honey took it as her cue to separate from the two of them, searching for a dress of her own.

It was as her fingers brushed against the different fabrics that Honey realized she didn't know a thing about buying a formal dress, they didn't have winter formals back in Louisiana, they were far from a community with spirit, hosting parties like this. She looked over the store to see Stiles walking around with his arms filled with dresses, a pile almost as big as him, it seemed knowing where to begin wasn't a problem for Lydia, this was her area of expertise, she didn't have to get to know the girl well to see that. She took pride in her appearance, perhaps too much. In making her self-proclaimed title as Queen Bee, she had become self-obsessed, forging this look that had hidden the wits she ever so clearly had.

This seemed like the kind of thing a girl did with her mother, the kind of advice a mother told her daughter when the time come, helping her to figure out who she was. Instead, she had been left wandering around aimlessly, considering calling her dad, wondering if he knew anything about a sweetheart neckline or what was deemed appropriate for the winter formal.

"Ah going to the dance, a big night for every teenage girl." A voice spoke from behind the girl, her skin crawling at the sound of it, turning to look at him with a contorted face. "Hello again." Peter Hale grinned. "Honey, was it?" He asked, knowing the answer, but the girl remained quiet with a look of disgust riddling her face, unable to hide her emotions toward him. "A little formality isn't going to kill you, blondie."

"Don't you have another innocent person to kill?" She asked. "Or is stalking and tormenting the teenagers of Beacon Hills all that's on your agenda?"

"Sharp. I like it." Peter hummed. "You'd make a good werewolf, you know. I hear you're quite the expert on all things lycanthropy."

Sharp, he called the girl, he liked it. She would make a good werewolf, he told her, her eyes wide for all of a second before she turned back to her face of disgust, folding her arms as she listened to the man's rambling, a rambling similar to what she'd heard before. It wasn't the first time she had been told that, that she would make a good werewolf, that she had all the right traits to be a killer. Peter continued, telling her about the things he had heard, how she was supposedly quite the expert on all thing lycanthropy. The blonde girl shook her head, no, she wasn't an expert by any means, she admitted. But she'd learned enough about werewolves to be confident in a man like him not scaring her, or at least it was what she had told him, a complete lie, but a confident one. One that even Peter couldn't see through.

Failing to intimidate her, the man moved on to a different topic. White, he blurted out, confusing the teenage girl who looked up at him with a raised brow. A white dress, he elaborated, pulling a random white dress off of the rack, he placed it against her arm, telling her that the color would compliment her olive skin tone, that if she wanted a good dress for the formal, to make it white. He placed it back on the rack as he left the girl thinking, staring at the white fabric, she knew she shouldn't have been compelled to listen to Peter Hale of all people, but as far as advice on what to wear to a formal, it was the only advice she had been provided. When the girl looked up, the Alpha had disappeared, vanishing into thin air as she looked around with a furrowed brow, for a second, she was actually concerned about Peter's whereabouts, hoping she was the only girl he had come to harass this afternoon.

You're completely hopeless, arent you? The grating voice of Lydia Martin appeared in front of her as she found herself rolling her eyes back for at least the dozenth time this afternoon. It seemed Lydia had dumped Stiles somewhere, perhaps on purpose, or perhaps he had gotten lost in that huge pile of dresses she had last seen him buried under. I found this, the redhead said, shoving a hanger into the blonde girl's hand, try it on, she demanded before the girl could even get a good look at it. You're helping me? Honey questioned in disbelief, her face contorted with confusion.

Lydia quickly brushed it off, refusing to let the blonde think for a moment their feud had ended, she reassured the blonde it was only for Allison's sake, the two of them weren't friends, and they never would be. Honey nodded in agreement, she had no doubt that their feud was ongoing, she may not have known what had begun it, that she did know. Even if it was the truth, she was still grateful for the girl's help, she was desperate for it.

Honey Carter stood before her bedroom mirror, straightening out the creases in her dress as she admired the white fabric, she never thought she would be thankful for the taste of Lydia Martin, or anything to do with the girl in fact. For something that she had picked out, it wasn't tragic. In fact, it might have just made being around the girl all afternoon worth it. The blonde's eyes had begun wandering, landing on the picture frame on her dressing table, a photo of herself and her parents, all smiling like a happy family. She wasn't very old in the picture, perhaps five or six, the age she was when her father killed an entire family in a house fire.

With disgust filling her, the blonde slammed the frame down, unable to stomach seeing the man so happy, knowing what was going on behind the scenes of that picture. She couldn't help it, the man wasn't the father she thought she had. She had always considered him a strong, kind man, sometimes he even seemed like a saint. But now that image had been shed, and all she was left with was the skeletons in his closet.

The blonde tried to put her mind off of it, tonight was supposed to be a good night, a fun one, it was her first ever high school formal, she had to enjoy it, forgetting about the life she'd leave at home while she danced her troubles away. She turned to the accessories that Lydia picked out for her, one of which was an ivy crown to compliment her otherwise simple white gown. Honey began placing it on her head, becoming tangled in it as it wrapped around her.

"Need some help with that, kiddo?" Jude questioned, appearing in the doorway, admiring what a beautiful girl his daughter had become. Honey shook her head, she was fine, she insisted, but the tangled vines around her said otherwise. She didn't want help from him, in fact, she wasn't planning on speaking to him at all, not tonight at least, not until she had the courage to ask him for the truth. She didn't quite have the confidence for it yet. "Come on, Hon, let me help." Jude insisted, hardly giving her a choice as he began unwrapping her from the ivy crown, unraveling it before he could place it on her head properly. "Your mother would have loved this. She loved all the high school dances. She was prom queen too, you know."

"Shocker," Honey mumbled in a harsh tone. It wasn't a shock to her, her mother was beautiful, it was no surprise her mother would win a title like that, in the few short weeks she had lived here it had become clear how much everyone adored her mom. Even years after moving away Emily's name was one that stuck in people's heads, her name almost like a national treasure. As the girl turned around she saw the tears growing in her father's eyes, tears of joy, of pride, but all the girl wanted to do was roll her eyes at him. "I should go, Jackson's gonna be here any minute."

"Jackson?" Jude repeated, following his daughter as she rushed to gather the necessities for her purse. "I thought you would be going with Stiles. Or Scott? I didn't think you liked Jackson." The man questioned, becoming more intrigued by his daughter's love life. Honey ignored her father as she continued walking out of her bedroom, leaving the man to chase her around the house. "I don't mean to pry, I just want to be involved in your life, Honey. I feel like we've grown apart ever since I got here. Like I interrupted your life. Please, can we just sit and talk?"

Before the blonde could think of a plausible lie to help her escape, a horn honked from outside, her perfect escape plan. Jackson. Both of their heads turned to the front door, a weight lifted off of her shoulders. She never thought that Jackson Whittemore would save the day. Jude tried his best to hold his daughter up, asking to talk for just a moment, questioning if Jackson would wait a few minutes, but the front door knocked, the boy already here, thank god. Honey shrugged, he couldn't be left waiting, it would be rude.

As the teenage girl rushed toward the front door, her father called her name once again, stalling her for just a second as she turned to look at him. When you get home, can we please have that talk? Jude asked, the girl hesitated on her answer for a moment, unsure what he wanted to talk about, but perhaps by tonight, she would be willing to ask him about the truth. So in the chance of that confidence awakening inside of her, the girl nodded in agreement. Tonight.

·❥·

Jackson and Honey pulled up to the formal in the boy's silver Porsche following what the two of them could only describe as a slightly awkward car ride, the boy struggled to act normal around the blonde, usually, he would go for his usual tactic of flirting with the girl, like he always had, it came naturally to him, but he couldn't get the image of Scott's glowing eyes and fangs out of his head, the threats he had made if he dared lay a finger on the blonde girl. Tonight or ever. He was usually just a harmless nerd, but Jackson knew the truth now, the cold, hard truth, perhaps a lot more of it than what he wanted to know. Like how Honey's father was a hunter, and that was just as scary to him as the demonstration of kicking his ass that Scott had provided.

He wasn't sure whether the girl knew about her father, even Scott and Stiles were in limbo about it, she had her suspicions, that was clear, but Stiles believed that, for now, he had put the girl off of the scent. Hopefully, before she figured out it was true, they could figure out a way to solve all of the werewolves versus hunters' problems.

Before either of the teenagers stepped out of the Porsche, Jackson pulled a flask from his pocket for some liquid confidence, first offering it to Honey who seemed like she could use it too. Honey didn't hesitate to take the flask, she practically snatched it from him as she took a large gulp of a liquid that tasted like fire.

As Jackson climbed out of the Porsche, Honey pulled down the sunshade, looking at herself in a small mirror that somehow still felt bigger than she did tonight. She sighed, telling herself that it was just one night. She could handle one night. One single night as a normal teenage girl, it was easy enough, right? Honey didn't have the chance to talk herself out of that, Jackson opened the car door for her, her signal that it was time to do this, whether she believed she could handle her one night of being normal or not.

Besides the Porsche pulled up a powder blue Jeep, Stiles rushed to help Allison and Lydia out of the car, offering a helping hand to the complaining redhead who wasn't happy about the vehicle she had arrived in. She had always imagined pulling up to the winter formal in a familiar Porsche driven by her sports star boyfriend, not her last-minute date Stiles Stilinski whose car was falling apart. It didn't help that the moment she stepped out of the piece of junk, she saw someone else living her fantasy, and arguably better than her.

Lydia swallowed her pride as she looked at Honey and Jackson together, trying to be the bigger person. "Jackson. You look handsome." She complimented the boy while Stiles and Allison had to witness, cringing for the redhead.

"Obviously." Jackson deadpanned with a smug smile, despite their arms being linked the girl on his left lowered her head, as though she wasn't there at all. "It's Hugo Boss." He added, ensuring that Stiles was left feeling just as self-conscious as Lydia as he began fixing his suit. The jock had walked away with the confidence boost he needed, leaving the blonde guiltily looking back with the regret that she hadn't spoken up.

"I don't care. I don't want compliments." Lydia told herself as she pulled herself together. "I will not fall prey to society's desire to turn girls into emotionally insecure neurotics who pull up their dresses as the first flattering remark." She continued as Allison nudged Stiles to say something, it seemed she needed the compliment, even if she believed she didn't.

"Well, I think you look beautiful," Stiles quickly blurted out. The redhead's eyes lit up, a smile on her face as she questioned it, for some reason she seemed to be in complete disbelief that Stiles would compliment her, or that anyone would in fact. With the confidence the girl needed back in her system, Stiles offered his arms to the two girls who gladly took it with a smile.

Honey's dream of an amazing dance came crashing down as quickly as they were built up, only a few moments after walking into the dressed-up gym the winter formal lost its sentiment. Maybe it was standing around watching Jackson spike the punch that killed the dream, or the fact that a word had hardly been spoken between her and her date since he picked her up. He was much too wrapped up in the cheap alcohol he had snuck in his flask. But she found comfort in seeing that she wasn't the only one failing to find fun in the event, Allison was too standing around with folded arms waiting for something worthwhile to happen, Lydia had sat down, refusing to get up and dance, while Stiles continuously tried to convince her.

It was as the blonde stood sipping the warm vodka punch from her cup that she heard someone whispering her name from behind her, coming from the bleachers that only the true loners with no dates occupied, waiting for someone to notice them. There, she found Scott hiding amongst the shadows, desperate not to be seen by Coach. The blonde looked around, ensuring the coast was clear before she approached the hiding wolf, questioning what he was doing her, though it was a stupid question, it was obvious who he was here for, there was only one person he would be willing to sneak into a dance and risk his place on the lacrosse team for. Allison.

"Do you want me to get her?" Honey asked, pointing at the brunette girl standing alone. The boy quickly grabbed her, stopping her from getting him caught, not yet, he insisted, he still needed a game plan on how to get to her without Coach seeing him. "Well, you need to figure it out fast. If Allison feels anything like me, she will be going home within the next fifteen minutes." She told him, inciting a newfound urgency in the wolf.

"No, no, no. You need to keep her here." The wolf insisted. "I need a little more time." He pleaded with the hopes that, unlike him, she would be able to think of a way to ensure that Allison stayed at the dance long enough for him to sweep up and save her from an otherwise boring night. She turned back to the brunette girl standing alone, the one who looked desperate for someone, and anyone to go and talk to her. Honey turned back to the werewolf, confident as she told him that she had it covered.

The blonde approached Allison with an extended hand, at first, Allison was confused, looking at the girl's hand, wondering if she wanted something, maybe she had assumed that, like Jackson, she had snuck in a flask to make the dance interesting. It's a dance, Allison, Honey reminded the girl, you're supposed to dance, she deadpanned as it became clear to the brunette. She eagerly took the blonde's hand with a bright smile, the two of them walked onto a dancefloor filled with couples, people with dates who didn't have their heads buried in their flasks or weren't hiding in the bleachers because they weren't supposed to be here.

For a little while, the brunette was distracted, dancing and happy, as she should have been until it dawned on her, how long she had been at this dance, how in that time, she still hadn't caught a glimpse of the boy she had been waiting to see, the one she had seen scaling the roof for a way to get in without being caught. She couldn't hide her disappointment, Honey had seen it written across her face, questioning the girl if she was okay anyway.

Allison smiled, shaking it off, I guess I just thought Scott would come through, you know? Allison said, he tone laced with disappointment, finding herself stupid for being so caught up in a boy, it was the entire reason she had sworn off of boys before moving here, boys made girls stupid, and sometimes even crazy. Even then, knowing that, that it was addictive to fall in love, she'd fallen into the trap anyway.

Just a little longer, Honey pleaded with the girl. Allison furrowed a brow at her again, wondering what she knew, but she didn't ask, instead, she agreed with a nod, trusting the blonde, agreeing to wait for him. Unsure how long she was willing to wait for him to make his appearance, but for her friend, she would wait that little longer.

With his head resting in his hands, Stiles Stilinski watched everyone happily dancing, having the time of their lives while he struggled to get his date, or at least one-half of it, to even talk to him. Since the moment they had walked through the door Lydia had been sitting at the table with her face contorted, watching all of the people loving their life, spending tonight with the person they wanted to be with, she had spent a good portion of it watching Jackson and Honey, missing him, for reasons even she couldn't fathom. Jealous of the blonde, for more reasons than explainable. Unable to take another moment of the sitting around, Stiles turned to his date, building up what confidence he usually lacked, asking her to dance. Only to immediately be shot down by a one-word answer. Pass. But Stiles didn't let it knock him down, instead, he stood up, trying it again, he held out a hand for the girl.

Lydia, get off your ass and dance with me, he insisted with confidence he didn't know he could ever possess. The girl looked at him with surprise, almost tempted, until she rejected it again, questioning why he didn't dance with someone else instead, someone he actually wanted to be at this dance with in the first place. He furrowed a brow, unsure what she meant, she was happy to explain, perhaps she didn't like the blonde, and perhaps she didn't know much about having good, healthy relationships, but she wasn't blind, when two people liked each other, she could see it. And she saw it. Everyone wanted Honey, the redhead complained, unable to hide the hint of jealously that she felt toward the blonde.

Stiles sighed, holding out his hand again, trying once more. The two of them were going to get up and dance while she carried on pretending that she didn't want to be here with Jackson, he told her, because somewhere inside of that cold, lifeless exterior there was an actual soul. And he was sure that he was the only one who knew how smart she really was. As the boy ranted at her, Lydia sat with a slack jaw, completely in awe. So once she stopped pretending to be a nitwit, she will eventually go off and write some insane mathematical theorem that wins her the Nobel prize. He ended his speech with one final request for her to get up and dance with him.

A Fields Medal, Lydia answered his question, confusing him momentarily as she stood up with a smile. Nobel doesn't have a prize for mathematics, the Fields Medal is the one she will win, she told him, taking his hand as she allowed him to guide her to the dancefloor, the boy still shocked that he had succeeded, even after calling her a nitwit.

For a while, Allison had become lost in the fun of dancing once again, her blonde friend proving to be a great distraction from the thought of waiting for Scott, the only thing that had pulled the girl out of her fun was the sound of the boy's name being called across the gym. She and Honey had stopped, looking around with a furrowed brow, searching for Coach as he bellowed across the gym, chasing Scott through the crowd of teenagers. The two of them stood still, watching in awe, the werewolf was looking for a way out of his punishment, his first thought seemed to be a dance with Danny. He grabbed the boy, wrapping his arms around him, beginning to sway with him as Coach finally found him. McCall! He yelled with a pointing finger. You're not supposed to- He began as the entire dancefloor stopped to watch the exchange. What the hell are you- Coach mumbled, struggling to find a way to word his lecture. What the hell are you doing?

Yes, Coach? Scott asked, wrapping his arms tighter around his fake date who allowed himself to be a pawn in the werewolf's plan. As everyone looked at him, Coach felt under pressure, he saw how it looked, it wasn't painting him in a great light. He raised his hands in defense, trying to tell them that wasn't what he meant, that Scott couldn't dance with a boy, or be with one, while the man struggled, Honey and Allison watched with great amusement, struggling to hold back from laughing. Eventually, Coach gave up, telling everyone to dance, it was a party, he shouted with a bright red face, slowly backing away from Scott and Danny.

The moment the man was out of sight, the werewolf allowed Danny to return to his actual, very confused date who had left to grab some punch while he swiftly made his way to the blonde and brunette waiting for him with impressed smiles. Honey applauded the boy as he jokingly bowed. As she looked between the happy couple, she proposed that it was time to excuse herself, now, she didn't mind standing on the sidelines so much, even if she would be alone. Thank you, Scott mouthed as the blonde backed up, smiling at him.

For only a few seconds had the girl been standing at the punch bowl alone before she felt a hand on her shoulder, drawing her away from her cup for a split second. Some guy outside is asking to talk to you, the unfamiliar sophomore told her, he said to meet him on the field. Honey furrowed a brow, about to ask for a description of the guy before the boy walked away, leaving her with no answer as to who might be waiting for her outside.

Unable to resist curiosity, the blonde placed down her cup, heading straight outside as she held up the white fabric of her dress that dragged across the floor. She walked out of the school with the cold January air immediately hitting her, sending a chill down her spine as she walked down the steps, heading toward the school field, her mind questioning who would ask someone in the dance to come and get her rather than finding them herself, or why they would want to meet on the field. Perhaps she should have seen it as a sign of danger, but the girl wasn't exactly known for her sense of danger.

The blonde hadn't made it across the parking lot before a hand tightly grabbed her arm, pulling her back, startling her as she turned to see her father behind her. "We need to talk." Jude Carter insisted with a panicked look across his face. She should have known. Her psychotic, murdering father couldn't leave her for even one night alone, not even to go to a school dance. Of course it was him.

"I'm going back to the dance." Honey refused with a roll of her eyes. She shrugged the man off as she headed back toward the school, Jude's grip quickly returned to his daughter's arm, making it harder for her to escape as he held her tighter. Too tight. "Dad, you're hurting me." She winced as she looked down at the hand that was almost white from the pressure.

"We're going home and we're going to talk." Jude told her, his tone harsh, scaring the blonde as her eyes grew wide. "We need to leave, and we need to leave tonight." He said, beginning to take her back to his car, the girl stammered, trying to ask questions, barely able to keep up the pace. "We'll talk about it on the way."

Talk. For some reason, the word seemed to set off the girl as she gathered the strength to stop, a sharp tug, and her arm was released from the man's hand, causing him to stop too as he turned to her. Her lip curled in anger "You wanna talk? Fine, let's talk." She spat out with disgust, finally she had reached boiling point, and the girl was no longer able to bite her tongue. "Did you start the fire at the Hale house?" She asked, leaving Jude speechless, wondering how she knew to ask such a question. "Or shall we talk about what happened to mom? I mean what really happened to mom? Yeah, Kate spilled about your little hunter code."

"I can explain," Jude reassured her, his tone changing completely, he reached to put a hand on his daughter's shoulder, but she quickly moved away, refusing to allow him to lay a hand on her. "Just come home and we can talk about it. I'll explain it all, I promise."

Honey shook her head, tears stinging her eyes as she refused, it was true, it had to be, he hadn't tried to deny it, like any sane person was, he hadn't tried to justify his innocence. Kate was right. A woman who she thought she would hate, who was just some replacement for her mother had been the one to tell her the truth, uncovering the secrets of her family. As the tears began falling from her eyes, Honey looked around, looking at anything but her father who continued to plead with her to come home, repeating how it wasn't how it looked, and as she looked around, Honey saw an escape. Jackson was rushing across the parking lot, she hadn't even thought before the jock's name came spilling out of her mouth, catching his attention as he looked at her, stopping whatever he had been doing to head straight to the girl and her father.

Please, Honey, her father quietly begged her one last time, but the girl couldn't stand looking at him for a second more "Mom would have never done this to me." she spat out as she picked up her dress, escaping before he tried to stop her again. He couldn't help but feel defeated, at a loss as his daughter rushed away from him, refusing to hear the truth, why he had kept it all from her for so long.

With the blonde on his arm, Jackson began guiding the girl to the field, she questioned whether he was the one who asked for her, but her question only confused the boy as he shook his head, he hadn't asked anyone to bring her to the field, Stiles was the one who had texted him to come to the field. Honey only grew more confused as to what was going on here, only when they had stepped out onto the illuminated field, all questions had left her head. She immediately released the jock's arm as she rushed over to the bloody body lying in the middle of the field.

"Oh, my God, Lydia." Honey's voice cracked with terror as she looked over the girl, feeling for her pulse, weak, barely there, but there. "Jackson! Jackson, get help!" The blonde pleaded, turning to the jock who was still slowly approaching from behind, his eyes slack and his eyes filled with horror, time moving in slow motion for him. "Jackson!" She shouted at him, snapping him out of a trance as he began rushing, dropping down beside the two girls. "She's dying. We need help." The blonde explained, freaking out as she tore off a piece of her white dress, wrapping it around Lydia's bleeding waist. "We need to get her back to the school."

Jackson nodded, unable to fathom a sentence as he picked the redhead up bridal-style, the two of them rushing back toward the school, as everyone exited the dance they heard the screams in the distance, the pleads for help until the two teenagers finally came to light, holding a limp girl in their arms as her blood left a trail. "Help! We need help!"