"I love Jackson," she says as soon as she's close enough that she doesn't have to raise her voice. "Okay?" Stiles glances left to right, like her meaning is crouched in the darkness somewhere. "I love Taco Tuesdays. Back to you." They go back to school in the fall, and everyone acts like it's all okay. Like none of it ever happened. That's all right, because Lydia could have an Oscar someday. If she wanted one.

Stiles Stilinski is five-feet-eight-inches of sarcasm and unbridled nerves, with a mess of uneven curls, and delicate, unusual features, and she’s lanky and clumsy and always has bruised elbows, and she talks too much about too little, and she owns only one pair of battered sneakers for feet too big to really be graceful, and her car is horrific, her driving even worse - she's seventeen and awkward and wild limbed, and she's the complete opposite of everything Lydia wants out of life. These are the moments Lydia falls in love with her.

Lydia has a plan: attend college, study the biological makeup of werewolves, win prizes, and wear amazing shoes. She does not expect to make friends with Stiles. Or flirt with Stiles. Or accidentally start a pack war with Stiles. Whatever. The point is, Lydia has a plan.