It feels familiar, the way Lydia's planting herself...and again, Allison waffles about her memories because she wants to know if she can get around this, if she can best Lydia and just...make this work.
She has a strange, sinking feeling that the moments she can outmatch her best friend are few and far between.
...maybe this could work to her advantage.
So she fixes Lydia with a cold, flat look and sets her jaw.
"Ask Stiles." she replies simply, jerking her arm out of Lydia's grip more deliberately this time.
If nothing else, when Lydia tracks him down to make him answer for what Allison's doing, Stiles will know Allison's as good as her word: she may not lash out at her pack in violence, but she can do this much to Lydia. She can hurt her to hurt Stiles.
Because, unlike the jackass who loves baseball bats, she's brave enough to mend her fences.
With one last, dark look, she starts to sidestep Lydia and carries her plate away from the buffet, praying Lydia won't follow.