During the spring of my 16th year,
I received a letter.
The spring of my 16th year…
A hand in hand miracle.
“Scott! You’re going to be late!”
“I know, I just need to get something!” Scott yelled back, sprinting to the kitchen.
He found the lunch he made on the table, but as he reached for it, he frowned.
Next to it was a pile of newsletters and advertisement. On top of it, a letter.
Carefully, he took it with his other hand.
There was his name on it, and when he turned it around to look from who it was, his frown deepend.
“It’s… from me?” He muttered.
“Scott!” His mother called again.
“Yeah, coming!” Scott answered, taking both his lunch and the letter with him as he hurried to the front door, where his mother was waiting for him, his bag in her hands.
He grabbed it from her, pressed a kiss on her cheek and called a “Thanks!” over his shoulder as he ran out the door.
I’ll read this later, he thought as he shoved the letter into his bag while he ran.
I’ve thought of what I’m going to write in my diary today.
The first time I’ve slept in.
“Congratulations on moving up a grade! Guess I’ll be seeing your stupid faces for another long, long year. Let’s try not to kill each other. Don’t look at me like that, Greenberg! It’s still a mystery to me how you even passed last year… So! About today’s lesson…”
Scott tuned Finstock out.
Slowly, he picked the letter out of the book it apparently slipped in, not caring for how crumpled the page looked.
“Ah, I totally forgot – today, another brat will be joining you. Transfer student. Dear Lord, how am I going to survive this year… I gotta go get him. Please, for God’s sake, don’t blow anything up. Lookin’ at you, Greenberg.”
As soon as the door closed behind their teacher, the whole class broke out in chatter and giggles.
Scott carefully picked at the envelope, trying to open it without messing up its content.
To the me who is in second year high school, have you been well? I am writing this to you from ten years in the future.
If you are wondering why I’m writing this to you at this time, it’s because I have something, no matter what, that I need to ask of you.”
10 years in the future…? And it’s ‘me’… Is this some sort of prank? Scott thought, but continued reading.
“I hope you won’t repeat the same mistakes.
In this letter, I’ll write what will happen next and when it will happen, so that you can select the right path.
- In the morning, because you forgot to set your alarm clock for the first time ever, you overslept.”
“No way!” He whispered. How did they know..?
“- There will be a student from Poland transferring into Class 6. His name is ‘Stiles Stilinski’.”
Transfer student? Stiles…?
The boy flinched when the door opened loudly.
“Will you quiet down already!” Finstock yelled, one hand rubbing over his face.
He entered the class room, and Scott stared at the figure following him.
“That’s the transfer student I told you about, ah… How did you pronounce that again?”
Their teacher frowned at the poor guy who stood in front of them, head bent.
“Just Stiles is fine.”
Scott barely heard him, he spoke so quiet.
Finstock stared at him skeptically.
“… Whatever. So… There you have it. Stiles. Stiles… Stilinski. Starting today, he’ll be a part of our class. Please don’t try to scare him off on his first day already.”
He roughly clapped a hand on the boy’s shoulder; he stumbled on the spot, but didn’t look up.
Finstock grinned at them.
“Bilinski here comes from Poland, and his dad’s the new Sheriff! So I wouldn’t mess with the kid. Hey, boy, introduce yourself. Maybe we can pass some time like that.”
The new student finally lifted his head, and his amber eyes met Scott’s brown ones.
His fingers were twitching at his side, and his right hand shot up to grip the strap of his bag tightly, but his face remained blank.
“Just… Call me Stiles. It’s not my first time here in Beacon Hills, so I can speak English just fine…”
His eyes were wandering all over the place, and Scott could hear him tapping his foot in a stressed rhythm.
“We moved here, uhm… Because of my dad’s job. Yeah. So, uhm… yeah.”
Stiles suddenly grew quiet, almost bouncing on the spot.
Scott lowered his eyes, staring at the letter in front of him with eyes as wide as the moon.
So… It’s true?
"His name is ‘Stiles Stilinski’.
He will sit next to you.”
“… Well then. I guess this’ll have to do. You can go sit down, then. Next to McCall’s a seat.”
Scott’s eyes shot up again and he flinched, suddenly feeling all of his friend’s eyes on him.
But… No way.
There was no way this could be right.
All of this was just a coincidence—
Stiles slowly sat down next to him, face turned towards his desk.
It had to be a coincidence!
After the bell rang, a hand was messing up his hair.
“Scooott! Let’s go home together!”
Scott yelped and laid his head back, staring straight up at Allison’s smiling face.
“For lunch, we can go to my house and have some bread!” Erica chimed in, Lydia trailing after her.
The teenager smiled and nodded.
“Cool!” He answered and Erica’s face lit up even more.
But then Scott froze.
“Ah! Hey, Stiles!”
Scott turned his head, as he slowly got out of his seat.
Allison had called after the boy, who now stopped in the doorframe.
His shoulders tensed, and as he slowly turned his head, his right hand shot up to grip the strap of his bag again.
“Join us for lunch!”
Stiles’ eyes widened barely noticeable and he slowly turned around completely.
“Ah, no… Today, I—“
“Aw, come on!” Allison chirped, gripping his free hand and pulling him with her towards the others.
Derek eventually stood next to Scott, watching the events quietly.
“Yeah, Stiles! Come over and have some bread with us!” Erica joined.
“Erica’s parents own a bakery. The bread there is delicious!”
“We’ll show you around!”
“It’s rare that we get a half day,” Lydia added calmly, lips turning into a soft smile.
“… But—,“ Stiles weakly protested.
The letter then says…
“- You’ll invite Stiles to walk home together, but he’ll say no.
// I hope that you guys won’t invite Stiles on that day. Absolutely not."
The letter said no… Scott thought as they walked out of the building, slowly trailing behind the others.
He should talk about it with the others, but…
Would they even believe him?
“If it’s only for a bit…” Stiles eventually gave in, still looking a bit hesitant.
“Awesome!” Allison cheered, reaching up to the boy’s shoulders and slightly pushing him forwards in front of her.
“Alright alright, let’s go to my house!” Erica hummed happily.
Allison giggled, and Scott caught up with them.
He softly cocked his head to the side, as he saw that Stiles wore a soft smile on his lips.
If we invite him… Will there be some sort of problem?
“Let’s all introduce ourselves! First, we have Erica Reyes.”
The blonde girl waved at him, grinning from ear to ear.
Lydia nodded at him, carefully checking him from head to toes.
“Nice to meet you,” she eventually said, smiling again.
The oldest of them pushed his glasses back up his nose, and only nodded in answer.
Scott just smiled at him, and Stiles hesitantly answered it.
“… and I’m Allison Argent! Just call me Ally!” She finally finished.
Erica softly nudged Stiles with her elbow.
“Derek failed to mention it, but you can just call him Sourwolf! He’s always so grumpy and gloomy, but don’t worry about it. Deep down he’s pretty sappy.”
Derek actually growled at her.
“Of course you are!”
“C’mon, guys, behave! Don’t scare the newbie off already!” Allison sighed dramatically, turning around to face Stiles.
They all froze, when they saw that he was hiding his face beneath his free hand.
“… Stiles?” Scott carefully spoke up. Was he crying?
But then Scott heard giggling, and when Stiles pulled away his hand, he was outright laughing.
They were staring at him in awe when Allison and Erica cried out: “Oh my god, he laughed!”
He quietly watched as the two girls jumped at the suddenly overwhelmed guy.
“What made you laugh?”
“Come on, you can tell us!”
“Ah, uhm… Nothing in particular, I guess—“
What is this?
This… is good.
… Yes. Inviting him was a good thing.
They all sat down in the field behind the bakery, on the grass beneath a cherry tree.
“Guyys, I brought the bread!” Erica yelled as she approached them, holding up multiple bags.
She let herself plop down next to them, placing the bags in front of her.
“I brought two for everyone today,” she explained, and then began pointing to each bag.
“We have pork buns, meat buns, curry buns, chocolate croissants, melon bread and apple cinnamon rolls!”
“Stiles, go on and pick first,” Allison invited him softly and he held up his hands.
“Ah, it doesn’t matter—“
Lydia glared at him.
“Uhm, I- I prefer the chocolate croissant, though.”
“Good choice!” Allison smiled, and Erica handed him over the bag with the croissants.
“What about you, Scott?”
He really liked the curry buns.
“Ah, I… don’t really mind.”
Allison eyed him skeptically.
“Really? Are you just being courteous again?”
Scott frantically shook his head.
If someone wants it, then it’d be really bad if I said I wanted it too, he thought sighing.
“I really don’t mind,” he repeated.
His best friend shrugged.
“Then everyone can pick the one they want,” Allison offered.
“Then I want the other croissant!” Erica yelled.
“No way! I want it!” Derek hissed.
Lydia quietly reached for an apple cinnamon roll.
“Stiles should take the curry bread!”
Allison reached for another bag and held it towards Stiles.
“Scott prefers sweets, so he can have a melon bread and the other apple cinnamon roll.”
“I’ll take the curry bread,” Derek threw in.
“Eh?! I want it!” Erica argued.
“You can eat it whenever you want!”
“Give it to me!”
Scott laughed quietly.
Good thing I say I didn’t want the curry bread.
He suddenly felt a pair of eyes on him and when he turned his head, he caught Stiles staring at him with an unreadable expression.
A soft breeze was messing with their hair and clothes, and Stiles reached up to run a hand through his hair.
Next thing he knew was the bag being held in his face.
“The curry bread…”
Scott stared at the bag.
“I’ll trade you the melon bread for it!”
His eyes wandered around it, to meet Stiles’ glowing ones.
The other boy was smiling at Scott, hand still stretched out.
“Ah… Thank you,” Scott replied, slowly reaching for it.
He handed Stiles his own bag, which the other boy took without hesitating.
Scott slowly started picking at the bread.
Did Stiles notice?
Did Scott make a face like he wanted the curry bread?
Is it because he noticed… that he wanted to trade?
Stiles was smiling with them for the rest of the day.
April 6th (Friday)
I slept in for the first time in my life.
It was only a half day at school.
Transfer student Stiles Stilinski sits next to me.
Inviting Stiles to go home with us, as everyone takes a stroll in the sunset.
I walked behind Stiles.
Scott and Allison turned around, while Stiles continued in another direction.
Suddenly Allison stopped and whirled around.
The boy in question turned his head, looking at her expectantly.
“… Is it even all right for us to call you ‘Stiles’? I mean…?” She asked hesitantly, voice trailing off in the end, unsure of how to continue.
Stiles looked surprised for a second.
But then there was something in his eyes, and he smiled.
“Yeah. Please call me that.”
Allison’s shoulders sagged in relief, and she smiled back.
Stiles waved at them until they were around the corner.
I’ve decided that starting Monday, I’ll call him Stiles.
Finstock tried to pronounce his given name multiple times that day, and failed every time.
We tried, too, but when we did... Stiles looked at us with that blank expression he wore when he first arrived.
Maybe we could do it with some time and training, but we won’t.
Because he wants us to call him Stiles.
Scott closed his diary, satisfied with what he wrote.
Now that today’s entry was written, what could he do?
His eyes fell on his bag.
He went to grab it and sat down on his bed, reading it again.
It said everything that happened today;
From sleeping in,
To going home together with everyone.
It’s just like what he wrote in his diary.
If this letter really was written by him10 years in the future, it was probably written by looking at his diary.
He held them next to each other, comparing them word by word, and they really were exactly the same.
With that realization, his hands began to tremble.
Scott forcefully pressed the letter against his chest, not daring to look at it again.
If this was real…
Then he didn’t want to see it.
The future or whatever…
He didn’t need to know about it.
He didn’t want to.
Scott stared at the empty seat next to him, and a bad feeling gnawed at him.
“Is Stiles sick today?” He wondered as he got up, Allison leaning against his desk as soon as the bell rang.
“Dunno,” she answered, frowning. “Should’ve asked for his number.”
He looked at her.
“Stiles. Have you taken notice of him?”
Scott froze in the doorway.
“W-What? I- No, I- I’m going first!” he stuttered and hurried off.
He could hear Erica asking what was wrong with him, but rounded the corner without looking back nonetheless.
For two weeks after that, Stiles didn’t come to school.
“// I hope you guys won’t invite Stiles on that day. Absolutely not.”
Scott stared at the first page.
What if it had something to do with it?
What if it really was wrong to invite him?
Maybe… It’s written in the letter…?
He took out the next page.
- The big game
- During the lacrosse game, I was asked to participate.
// I really regret saying no. I hope you won’t refuse this time, and accept everyone’s request.
- That day, I fell in love with Stiles.”
“We’re up first.”
“Sorry, I was asked to get the balls…” He rasped out when he finally caught up to Erica and Lydia.
The letter didn’t explain the reason for Stiles’ absence.
I think, if that day, we wouldn’t have invited Stiles…
Maybe it could’ve prevented that scenario from happening.
When they made it to the lacrosse field, Scott froze.
“Stiles?” He called out, and said boy turned his head.
Allison and Derek stood next to him, waving at Scott and the others.
“Yo, Stiles!” Erica yelled and ran up to them, followed by Lydia who sighed in relief.
“You’re back! We were worried.”
Scott was last to arrive, but just in time to see Stiles breaking out into a big grin, blushing slightly while nervously rubbing his neck with his hand.
Ah, it’s just like two weeks ago.
“Hey, Stiles. What happened that you were absent for two weeks?” Erica asked the question they all wanted an answer to; even Derek was looking at Stiles expectantly.
Stiles’ smile wavered for a second, and Scott had to keep himself from frowning.
“Ah, y’know, just slacking off some.”
Slacking off ?
“We’re going to our game!”
“Come cheer us on!”
“We should be saying that…”
That’s all there is to it?
I don’t believe him.
Scott was walking over the field with the others, when he noticed that Stiles sat down on the bleachers.
Without telling the others, he walked up to him.
“Stiles, are you participating?” He asked, plopping down next to the other boy. He pulled his knees to his chest, and reached around his legs to grab his feet with his hands.
Stiles flinched and glanced at him for a second, before looking back to the field.
“Ah… no. I’m in charge of first aid.”
“Huh? Why?” Scott continued confused.
“I didn’t come to school, so I couldn’t practice.”
“That kind of thing doesn’t matter,” Scott argued irritated.
They sat in silence.
“What’s wrong with your foot?” Stiles suddenly asked, glancing at Scott’s feet.
Scott followed his eyes, and realized he was kneading his left foot.
He quickly let go and could feel his cheeks heating up.
“Does it hurt?” Stiles asked, now looking straight at Scott.
Scott hesitated before sighing deeply.
“Mhm… My shoes, they’re a bit…” His voice died down.
“I made a sizing mistake when I asked for them…” He continued, embarrassed.
“… Have you been wearing them since first year?”
Scott averted his eyes.
“I don’t want to ask for another pair…” He mumbled.
Stiles hummed quietly in understanding.
They sat in silence again.
“… Allison plays lacrosse?”
“Ah, yeah. Derek too. They’re pretty good.”
“.. Erica sucks.”
Scott huffed out a laugh, because, well.
It was true.
Stiles didn’t speak up for the rest of the time.
It’s 6:5 for the other team when Erica and another girl showed up, begging him to join them for the last minute.
Even though he read it in the letter, he was scared of it.
Everyone had expectations for him, but he didn’t have the confidence.
Even if he went out, they’d definitely lose—
“I’m… sorry, I can’t,” he mumbled weakly, fiddling his thumbs.
“Aw, Scotty, please—“
“Don’t pressure him,” Stiles interrupted them, getting on his feet.
“He hurt his foot.”
“You’re hurt?” The other girl asked worried, and Erica’s eyes widened.
“No, no, I’m not hurt,” Scott cut her off, shaking his head before looking at the ground.
“I’m… the one to blame…” he whispered.
He blinked and lifted his gaze.
“I’ll do it!”
Erica pointed at herself, a forced smile on her lips.
“There’s a chance I may miss the target, so you’ll have to forgive me, though!”
She laughed shakily.
The letter says:
“After Erica takes my place on the field, we lost the game.”
Really a good idea?
The letter says that I should
‘accept their request’
‘I really regret saying no’.
I will definitely regret it…
Pushing the responsibility on my friend.
Not doing the things I am supposed to do…
I’m just running away.
“Actually… You know what, I’ll do it.”
The others all stared at him.
“But Scott, your leg…”
He waved at them, before pulling on the gear they brought him and hurrying off to the field.
Who cared about his leg?
It’s not a problem
The pain will go away
But a regretful heart…
Won’t change for another ten years.
It’ll be okay.
Derek’s team won, too, so their class was like the ultimate winner.
“Scott, let’s get back to class!”
“Sorry, you guys can go ahead. I’ll be right there.”
“Hm? Okay, see ya, then!”
Scott waited until the others disappeared in the building, before resting his weight on his right foot.
He’d go to the infirmary…
Scott barely manage to wobble a few steps, when he heard steps behind him.
“Nyoom! Toot toot!” A highpitched voice called.
Scott turned his head in irritation.
“The ambulance has come,” Stiles explained, holding up the first aid kit with a grin, and Scott laughed.
“Come on, you should sit down,” the other boy offered, pointing at a bench only a few steps away from them.
“Ah, no, it’s okay—“
“Just let me see it,” Stiles’ grin faded into a worried frown, and Scott obeyed.
They sat in silence once again.
When Stiles was bandaging his foot up, he suddenly started talking again without looking up.
“If your shoe isn’t the right size, you need to speak up.”
Scott hesitated, before mumbling: “We… can’t really afford it. So I’ll just endure it.”
Stiles glanced up, and there was a knowing look in his eyes.
“If you are always suppressing yourself though, the only one missing out is you.”
“If it’s going to cause the people next to me any trouble, I’d rather suffer on my own,” Scott replied without thinking.
It was too late to turn back now, anyway, so he just continued.
“Nobody noticed, anyway. So, if I endured it on my own, then it won’t go by much faster. It… was always like this.”
Stiles finished bandaging it up, and Scott put on his shoe again.
The raven haired boy was still kneeling in front of him, not meeting his eyes.
“I saw it.”
Scott froze in his tracks.
“And… I noticed.”
A memory flashed through his head.
“The curry bread… I’ll trade you the melon bread for it!”
“Ah… Thank you.”
… So he did notice back then.
Stiles closed the first aid kit loudly, getting back on his feet.
“Alright, be careful,” he warned Scott.
Scott stared at Stiles’ slim figure in front of him.
Suddenly, a thought found its way to his mouth.
Stiles turned his head.
“If you want to play lacrosse, then you should just say it!”
His eyes widened.
Scott took a deep breath.
“I noticed, too.”
The wind rustled their clothes and messed with their hair.
Stiles was still staring at him, wide eyed and gaping.
But then his lips moved into a soft grin.
“Next year, I’ll definitely participate. Just watch! I’ll play even better than Derek and Allison!”
“Yeah, for sure!”
Stiles waved at him, still smiling.
The things that were written in the letter…
They all came true.
“- That day, I fell in love with Stiles.”
I was happy to hear him say ‘I noticed’.
The me living 10 years in the future…
Has he let go of this regret?
He turned his head and got up from the bench he sat on.
Allison walked up to him, all smiling and blushing.
“Look at these flowers! Pretty, right?”
“What are you going to do with those…?”
“They’re for Stiles!”
“He won’t like that kind of thing.”
Scott reached for the little girl who had her arms outstretched towards him, and carried her on his arms.
“By the way, what did you bring him?”
“It’s a secret!” Scott smirked, and Allison pouted, spinning the bouquet of flowers in her hands.
Together they walked down the path of the hill.
“The cherry blossoms bloomed early this year…”
Scott hummed in agreement.
“… I can’t believe we’re 27 now.”
The father closed his eyes.
“I want to start over…” Allison continued, “I want to go back to our high school days.”
“I know…” he answered quietly, voice soft, and Allison smiled at him.
Their free hands entwined, as they watched the cherry blossoms whirl around them, covering the world in color and life.
“To the me ten years in the past, there are a lot of happy and joyful things that are waiting for you.
I hope you can cherish that happiness, and don’t let that happiness die.
Finally, I want to tell you the most important reason for writing this letter.
The 26-year-old me walked away with many, many regrets.
I’m writing this letter because I don’t want the 26-year-old me to carry a lifetime of regret.
Ten years later,
Stiles is no longer with us.
Please don’t just let the important things go by so easily.
Watch over Stiles closely.”