I own nothing. I haven't in a while so please be kind haha. Also, this is not a Jackson/Lydia fic, I just need to get some things rolling, so be patient :)

"Hey." He smirked. Such sexy, sexy lips. Beautiful blue eyes.. shit, had I just got caught staring? "Yeah, you." He purred.

Okay, I thought to myself, just keep calm. I put on foot infront of the other and slowly walked over to the silver porshe the good looking God was leaning against. You can do this, I thought.

"Hi. I'm Jackson. You go to Beacon Hills High, right?"

"Y-yeah, I uh, I go there." I stammered.

"I thought I recognized you." He licked his lips as he popped the top on the Red Bull he had in his hand.

I closed my eyes for a split second, trying to find my bearings. I mustered up all my courage and said, "You were in my English class last year. You looked awfully interested in my Romeo and Juliet presentation."

A huge smiled spread across his face. "What can I say? I'm a sucker for tragic love stories."

"Lydia!" I hear from a couple gas pumps down from where I was standing with Jackson, this beautiful, confident boy. "We have to go or we'll miss the movie!" Alison was calling towards me.

I sighed outloud. "I have to go. But.. it was nice speaking to you."

"The pleasure was all mine," Jackson said as he opened the car door and got back in. He winked just before he sped away, into the night.

I quickly made my way back over to my friend Alison's car.

"Where were you?" She asked. "The movie starts in half an hour and we still have to get tickets."

"Sorry," I smiled in a daze. "I was just talking to Jackson."

"Jackson who?" She buckled her seatbelt as she drove away from the gas station.

"Jackson Whittemore!"

"Lyd! That's so exciting! You should have told me so. Screw the movie! You have loved him for like, ever."

"Alison, I don't love him. I just have a teensy crush on him."

She stared at me then, and gave me one of those all-knowing, best-friend smiles. "A teensy crush?"

"Okay a gigantic crush, but.. I still don't love him."

We both burst out laughing then, knowing we were going to have a good night. I turned up the radio, she rolled down the windows, and all our troubles floated away, even if just for that night.

The next Monday morning I got up for school half an hour early. What was I doing? I was never this obsessive over guys. Sure, I wasn't exactly outgoing but I wasn't a loser. I had friends, I was good at school, and I considered myself relatively good looking.

I wasn't a cookie-cutter barbie doll. I had strawberry blonde hair, big green eyes, and lips bigger than most girls. Not "the norm" for "good looking" girls my age, but there wasn't anything wrong with the way I looked, either.

So when I found myself setting my alarm for 6 am, I had to second-guess myself. Really? What was I going to do special? Curl my hair or pick out an extra cute outfit? And for what? Because Jackson Whittemore talked to me for the first time since I had this crush on him?

Okay, thats exactly what I did. I picked out the most butt-flattering jeans I had, a cute halter top and a pair of blue velvet flats with studs on them. I took extra time curling my hair, matched my make up to my outfit.

When I went downstairs I brewed myself a pot of coffee and peeled a banana. The house was quiet, just like it usually was between six in the morning and six in the evening. I paced back and forth as the coffee brewed and picked up my cellphone.

I'm freaking out, I quickly texted Alison.

I grabbed the keys from the key rack and set them on the counter, then a mug from the cupboard as the coffee maker beeped, signaling it was ready.

I poured my coffee with a shaky hand (no cream, three sugar) and picked up my phone.

Girl, everything will be OK. Just be cool. Act like nothing has changed, She wrote back.

Right, I thought. Nothing has changed. Just because I talked to Jackson for like, two minutes, I can't think anything of it. I can't overthink it.

Twenty minutes later, I was pulling into the school parking lot. I turned off the engine, and then just sat. I let out a deep breath, and grabbed my lipgloss from the dashboard, slicking some on and then grabbing the door handle.

Alison rushed over to me, handing me a Starbucks coffee.

"You look really pretty." She smiled. "I love those shoes."

"Thanks," I smiled back. "Wait. I've had these shoes for a month now, and no compliment before. What's up?"

"Okay, so I know how you really don't like Marnie Johnson that much, but I heard she was having a party this weekend and.. you know. I really want to go."

"No. Alison, no! You know I can't stand her. She's so fake!" I said as we opened the door to the school.

"Just hear me out!"

"I'm waiting." We went up a flight of stairs to get to our lockers.

"Well.. I don't really have anything else. I mean.. please?" A big smile spread across her face. "You know who might be there!"

I turned the dial on my lock, balancing my coffee in one hand. "I don't know. Tempting.. but I really don't like Marnie."

"Okay, then do it for me!" Alison begged. "Come on. Pleeeeeeeease, Lyd?"

"I'll let you know!" I said as I turned to walk down the hall, leaving Alison behind me. "See you in French!" I called down the hall as I took the last sip of my Starbucks.

"Wow." I heard from behind me. "You look really pretty today." A male voice. My breath caught in my throat as I turned around and -

"Oh. Hey Stiles." I half-smiled as I threw my empty cup in a near by trash can.

"Jeez, don't sound so happy to see me." He sounded defeated.

"I was just expecting someone else, thats all. Hey, do you mind if we catch up later? I really need to get to home room."

"Yeah, sure, I just, I uh, I just wanted to ask you something, actually." He stammered.

"Later? You can call me. Bye!" I smiled. He was such a good friend.

Later, when I had a free period, I went outside to grab something from my car. I didn't get far as I saw a silver porsche drive up infront of me.

The passenger side door flew open and a face leaned down from inside the car to see my face. "Hey beautiful," Jackson smiled. "Hop in."

I walked over - slowly - to the car. "I don't know." I said quietly, "I'll miss my next class."

"Screw your next class." He smiled again. It was infectious. "I'll show you a good time."

And just like that, I was sitting in Jackson Whittemore's car as he sped out of the Beacon Hills High parking lot.

"You look really pretty today." He told me as he sped up at a yellow light.

"Oh." I blushed. "Its nothing."

"I thought we would go sit down by the water - if that's okay with you?" He was always so confident. He was tall, strong, and good looking, so he had no reason not to be - but it was more than that. It was oozing out of him, like nobody could touch him, and like nobody had ever done him wrong.

"That sounds great." He had the sun roof open and my hair was beginning to blow around me. I could smell the scent of my shampoo - like rosebuds and honey.

We pulled to a stop along a dirt road, right next to the ocean. He turned off the car, and then looked at me.

"You have a -" he stopped himself short as he brushed my cheek with his finger tips. "There," he said quietly, "got it." He held a small eyelash inbetween his thumb and forefinger.

"Thanks," I smiled. I'm pretty sure I blushed, too.

He dropped my eyelash, and placed his hand on my knee.

"Wait." I whispered as he leaned in closer to my neck.

"For?" I could feel his lips as he said the word against my jawbone.

I thought about it for a second. I really could not think of a single bad thing coming from this. I shook my head and whispered, "Nothing, nevermind." I put my hand on his, then slid my hand up his soft, muscle-y arm.

His lips covered mine, and all I could think of was the pepperment taste of him, and hearing the ocean crash in the background. This was the perfect way to skip class.