Stiles (hyperactivespaz) wrote in valarlogs, @ 2014-10-17 15:58:00 |
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Entry tags: | !complete, cora hale, stiles stilinski |
Who: Stiles Stilinski and Cora Hale
What: Awkward
When: Tuesday, October 7th
Where: UCI Campus
Rating: G for Gen
Status: Complete
What some people didn’t realize about General Education Requirements is that they sucked, especially for those who had tight schedules. So, here was Stiles, stuck in another GER course as a sophomore because of the way the courses had lined up in his major. This was Abnormal Psych 101, or the equivalent, according to his schedule, and it was in one of the older smaller lecture halls in a building he never went to and a ridiculously early hour of the day.
When he finally made it there, clutching a giant coffee, he collapsed in one of the seats near the back, and sipped as he looked around…
...and realized that Cora Hale was sitting two seats away from him.
Shit.
Cora was… she didn’t know. She didn’t like not knowing, but there it was. Confused. Angry. Uncertain. And still with the doubting her instincts and trust. Really, it was just great. Lydia being attached to some guy and not around just made her more tense. Abnormal psychology had been an interesting choice when she was choosing classes. But with what she wanted to do, it potentially could help. So why not cross over a GER with something useful?
That morning was like any other morning. She woke up early. She went running. She got ready for class and then she was in class. No big deal. There was time before the class was to begin with the generic first day, here is your syllabus, this is what you can expect nonsense that Cora was reading.
Until she heard movement beside her. Why she didn’t ignore it, who knew. Probably because she was on edge. Either way, she looked to the side and saw Stiles.
Well that was just great. And awkward.
Jaw clenching, she just closed her eyes in resignation. Of course. They had discussed this and then...forgot apparently. Just. Her. Luck. She hadn’t spoken to him since the sleep thing. She had seen things, but there was never speaking because apparently he had decided that was their last conversation… even before Derek dropped his little bombshell.
Turning back to her book, all she could do was glare at it as she turned the page. This was going to be a long quarter.
Stiles sighed and drummed his fingers on his textbook. Cora had seen him. He knew she had seen him. But apparently she was still giving him the silent treatment. It was going to be a long quarter unless one of them bent, and it took about thirty more seconds of awkward silence before Stiles broke.
“...if you want me to move, I will,” he said, quietly. “I’m sorry. I didn’t see you when I sat down. Hell, I can drop the class if you want.” Because this was never about Stiles avoiding Cora. This was always, always about Stiles just wanting to give Cora space and freedom to decide, though Lydia telling him to stay away from Cora didn’t hurt either.
And cue the nervous behavior. Why wasn’t she surprised. Really, it made all the sense in the world. He avoided her, dated her brother and now...oh right. They were in class together. The fabric around her neck was agitating her but she also hadn’t healed from the dream of the vault so turtleneck tops it was.
“It’s up to you.”
She didn’t bother looking up. At least initially since he was just talking about switching seats, but then he was talking about dropping the class. Overdramatic? Or was he just trying to push it onto her to make the decision because he didn’t want to be the bad guy or whatever? Seriously? Annoyed, Cora turned her attention back to Stiles as she rolled her eyes.
“Right. What I want. If you’re going to drop the damn class, do it for yourself. I’m not going to be your excuse for that. If you can handle being in a class with me and having to breathe the same air, great, if not? Well again, that’s your choice.”
“Hey, I have never had a problem breathing the same air as you,” Stiles retorted, defensively. “But if you’re uncomfortable, then I’m happy to do what I can to make you comfortable, whether that be moving seats or dropping the class. Because believe it or not, Cora, I like you. I have always liked you, okay? I’m not the one with the problem here,” he added, snidely.
Did he actually ever listen to himself talk? She grasped that he rambled when he was nervous. But did he ever actually stop to think about what he said, or typed or any of that? Because honestly, now she just wanted to punch him in the face. Which was why she just scoffed at the comment on Stiles not having the ‘problem’, because he clearly had a problem whether he wanted to believe that or not.
“Right. You don’t have a problem at all. I already told you. Make your own damn decision on if you want to move or drop.”
At least she knew where her issues were. She may not know what she was feeling, she may not know what to believe anymore, but she was at least aware of that fact.
So, Cora was still clearly in denial. Good to know.
Stiles rolled his eyes at her claim that she wasn’t the one with the problem. Right. “You seriously think I’m the one with the problem,” he repeated, skeptically. “I’m curious what you think that problem is. Because all I did, Cora, all I did was try to warn you and Lydia. Because I didn’t want you getting hurt.”
He slumped a little, lowering his voice, because he was pretty sure the other students around them thought that they were in the middle of some kind of awkward ex-confrontation, which wasn’t, actually, all that wrong.
“I still don’t,” he added, quietly. “And I know that it hurt you to hear that about Peter, and I’m sorry, okay?”
She was in denial? Please. Stiles was the one in denial if he thought that he didn’t have a problem. Eyes narrowed, she shook her head in disgust.
“My problem is I don’t know what to think and or believe anymore because I dared to trust you and now I’m questioning everything the more I see of you and how you respond to shit. I know that. You though? You have this neurotic need to always be right and always have the last word and god forbid someones disagrees with you or doesn’t trust you, because then they’re idiots and you make passive aggressive bullshit posts because how dare they. You’ve made Lydia feel attacked by your insistence on warning us and then don’t grasp why she doesn’t trust you when she has no reason to. Do you even listen to yourself? I mean really listen to yourself? Because maybe you’d get it. Maybe though I’m not so sure about that at this point.”
Though the apology about what she had to ‘hear’ about her uncle actually made her bitter.
“Right. That’s all this is. That’s why I’m ‘hurt’. Bullshit. I could have handled that once I had my footing back.”
Stiles squinted at her, his mouth opening and closing in shock. “Seriously? Run that by me again--I warn you about a potentially dangerous situation--one that Derek is in complete agreement with me about, by the way, which you and Lydia seem to conveniently forget--and I’m the bad guy, because you don’t like my tone on the internet?”
And of course he was going to still act like he was perfectly right and tone didn’t matter because again, he was right. God he was infuriating.
“Yeah, about that Derek thing. I don’t know what he told you, but I’ve spoken to him and I’m sure Lydia has as well and what he told me was that even though he it’s hard to shake the Dreams from reality, he knows that Uncle Peter wouldn’t do any of that here. Which is what actually matters in the end because this is where we’re living now.”
He didn’t get it because he didn’t want to get it. Because he wanted to always be the one in the right.
“And oh, so you making my best friend feel attacked and then mocking her is supposed to be okay, because you’re just warning us about a potential threat? That makes it all go away? Your intent? It doesn’t work that way just because you want it to. Grow up.”
“And Peter’s potential to kill someone doesn’t go away just because you want it to,” Stiles retorted. “I never said that he would choose to become a murdering psychopath, but what people want doesn’t seem to matter, Cora, and nobody is doing him any favors by pretending they’re just dreams and nothing that happens over there happens here, or did you also forget that your brother is a werewolf now when he was never one before? Because I’m pretty sure he didn’t choose that.”
He shook his head and picked up his stuff. He was done being careful of her feelings. It was clear she didn’t give two shits about his feelings, or how it felt to have his life threatened by Peter. “But whatever. You and Lydia can live in whatever little fantasy world you’ve created for yourselves where Peter is an innocent victim and the dreams don’t matter, because that’s definitely the smartest play in a situation like this. And you can continue to be butthurt because I betrayed your trust by being mean to your friend on the internet. Because that’s what matters most here.”
Stiles settled the strap of his bag on his shoulder and scooted out of the aisle to move down closer to the front just as the professor walked in. Saved by the bell.
There was only so much she could feel bad about when it came to what happened in the Dreams versus what was happening in the here and now. He wanted to be an asshole, fine. But if he refused to see that his handling of things and actions had consequences, that was his own damn fault. And if Derek wanted to coddle his pathetic ass, so be it. She thought her brother was smarter than that, but clearly she was wrong.
What she wouldn’t give to be running. In fact, she was debating going running yet again after this class just because she was so pissed off now. The question was if she had time or not. She could make time if she really wanted to.
Trying to focus on the normal first day of class bullshit, Cora just scanned the syllabus. Group project. How… thrilling. It wasn’t that she couldn’t work in groups, she actually did fine in them. But they still weren’t something she actually enjoyed doing. Appropriate notes taken, attendance. She was watching the clock just to see if she could get to the track before her next class started. First days tended to mean getting out early when it was just the rundown of the class.
And after an aggravatingly long class (mostly because of her nerves, no doubt), they were released. Things packed up quickly, Cora quickly walked down the steps of the stadium seating to the door. Freedom and running. That’s all she wanted now.