“I Needed You.”
“You need me?” “I needed you.” “You needed me?” “I needed you.”
Those, I think, are the most painful three words I could ever think of hearing. It’s like someone saying that no, they needed you at a time, but you let them down. They needed you to keep them grounded, but they found their own anchor because you were too busy. They needed you to help them, but you didn’t pay attention, so they got help from someone else. That sentence? Pretty much the last thing I wanted to ever hear from Lydia Martin, but the look she gave me when she said those words? If I didn’t feel like I just got hit by an eighteen wheeler and bitten by a radioactive spider within the same twenty seconds, well, let me tell you. Twenty year old Lydia Martin turned on her heel and walked away, the only noise in my ears the clicking of her heels as my face flared up in red heat. Embarrassment or heartbroken, one couldn’t tell. Her eyes, usually glittering with happiness and sarcasm, were glittering with salty tears threatening to break the surface. I know I didn’t imagine her lower lip trembling, either. She made sure to make eye contact with me, just because she knew it’d hit me harder that way. I could tell she didn’t want me to see her look weak, to see her cry. I never wanted to be the reason why she cried. Lydia Martin isn’t the type of girl to show how she really feels, so for her to even show that much emotion says something. But, at the same time, for her to hold those emotions in? Be afraid to cry around me, afraid to fall apart? That really did it for me, right there. The fact that this girl, the girl I’ve been madly in love with and after all the craziness that is our lives finally said yes to letting us be together, wouldn’t let me see her crumble? I didn’t think I could let someone down that much. I finally had her. We’d been dating for almost a year now, after years of working together to fix whatever supernatural mess was wrecking havoc on our town. I never gave up on her, no matter how many douchebag boys she took home with her or how many times she doubted herself. She never gave up on me, either. I never thought I was enough for anyone, I didn’t think I would be worthy of a Lydia Martin. I wasn’t the hot werewolf on the University of California Berkeley lacrosse team - no, that team was full of boys like Jackson and Isaac and Scott was a first string attacker on the team. I, however, didn’t make the cut. It wasn’t a big deal though - it gave me more time to focus on my studies and getting a real job during my free time at college. Besides, the Jeep won’t pay for itself to get fixed, will it? Anyway, like I was saying. The team’s full of Jackson Whittemore’s with great bone structure, piercing eyes, and strong arms that looked like they would hold you through the night. Well, at least that’s what Malia said, anyway. I wasn’t the smartest in my classes, not anymore. Here I had to compete with other students who had the same grades as me, but more time to focus on getting those grades so they could do the actual readings whereas I would be skimming through a spark notes version on my way to lecture because the night before I was with my friends fighting off some shadow guy again. I didn’t have time to study our lecture notes when I was chasing down fairies who got into this war with a clan of witches down the road. I wasn’t special. Not that I thought I ever was, because in high school I was usually the one being pushed into the lockers. I always knew where I ranked in comparison to other boys who attended UC Berkley, but Lydia Martin had chosen me, not them. There had to be a reason for that. “I can depend on you. I can trust you. I know you’re here to help me, defend me, be on my side. I know you won’t take advantage of me, you’ll let me rant to you, and go off on tangents about things you don’t even give the slightest of fucks about. You’re Stiles. You’ve always had my back, and you never let me down.” That’s what Lydia used to say to me. Now, standing in the middle of the courtyard at Berkley frozen for five minutes in thought after my girlfriend walked away from me, I started doubting that I’ll ever hear that from her again.