First Grade

Age: 6

"But Dad," Stiles whined, throwing himself down on the worn leather couch. "I have to get her something!"

"Stiles, enough already. I said no," Stilinski said, hanging his coat on the rack by the front door.

"No to what?" Claudia asked from the hall. Stiles bounded up from the couch and wrapped his arms tights around her waist. Claudia hadn't been feeling good that day, so Stilinski had relented to his son's pleas to go ice skating at the local mall. Stiles fell more than he actually skated, but he never complained. If anything, he got more excited and determined with every failed attempt to go more than three feet at a time. By the time Stilinski finally peeled his son off the ice to go home, Stiles was covered in bumps and bruises and was already excitedly chattering about the next activity that had caught his attention: Christmas shopping.

"He wants to get his girlfriend a Christmas present," Stilinski said tiredly, sinking into his cracked recliner.

"She's not my girlfriend!"

"Well, why can't he do something for her?" Claudia asked. "It's his first girlfriend after all."

"She's not my girlfriend!"

"It wouldn't be fair for her to get something and no one else in his class to get something, and I don't want to get thirty gifts for a bunch of second graders."

"What if it was just for his group of friends?" Claudia pushed. "Just Scott and Lydia and her two little friends. That's not so bad."

Stilinski still looked reluctant.

"Please Dad, I really wanna do something for Lydia. And Scoot," Stiles added as an afterthought.

"Well, how about this?" Claudia broke in before her husband could protest some more. "What if you have a Christmas party for all your friends here at the house?"

"No. No, no, no way," Stilinski stood up suddenly. "No Christmas party."

"Why don't you make them all something instead of buying them presents?" Claudia suggested quickly before her son could get his hopes up. "I'm sure Lydia would be much more impressed with something you made yourself. It would be one of a kind that way."

"Make them out of what?" Stiles asked.

"Whatever you can find around the house," Stilinski answered. "Your mom has all that construction paper in the closet, right? You can use that."

"And you have all those toys you're not playing with. You could make a set to give to Scoot, I mean, Scott," Claudia corrected herself.

Stiles mulled it over for a moment. "I can make them whatever I want?"

"As long as we don't have to buy it."

"Okay."

"Hey, babe?" Stilinski called from the kitchen. "Have you seen the blender?"

"It's on the counter next to the toaster like always," Claudia called back, not leaving her seat on the couch where Stiles was sleeping with his head on her lap. All the Christmas things had finally been put away and stowed back in the attic until next year and Stilinski was ready to get started on failing his latest New Year's resolution.

A loud clattering came from the kitchen. "It's not there."

"Yes it is," Claudia rolled her eyes. "Where are you looking?"

"At the damn toaster!"

"Is it under the counter?"

"I don't know!" Another clatter sounded from the kitchen, waking Stiles up.

"What's wrong?" he asked sleepily.

"Nothing. Daddy lost the blender."

"I did not lose it! It left. The toaster ate it."

"Do you mean Lydia's blender?" Stiles asked innocently, rubbing his eyes with the back of his hand.

"What do you mean 'Lydia's blender'?" Claudia asked carefully.

"The blender I made for Lydia." Stiles was met with blank stares. " For Christmas," he clarified.

"Wait, you made a blender? You can make a blender?" Stilinski asked, leaning over the rickety kitchen table to see into the living room.

"Well, Mom said to make stuff from around the house and I saw the blender so I made the blender for Lydia."

"You gave Lydia our blender?!" Stilinski was on the verge of yelling at his son, something he hardly ever did. He was more of a go-to-your-room disciplinarian.

"Noooo," Stiles said, drawing out the word as he slowly shook his head as if he were explaining a very simple concept to one exceptionally dim witted. "I made it for her."

"You did not make it."

"I did. I put a bow on it. I made it."

"Baby, why would you give Lydia our blender?" Claudia asked, dumbstruck. Stiles was not the type of kid that would willfully disobey his parents, at least, not without good reason. "Lydia wouldn't want our blender. She's a little girl."

"I wanted her to like me," Stiles explained. "You and Daddy gave Missus Whatshername a blender when she moved in across the street because you wanted to impress her." Claudia exchanged guilty looks with her husband, not realizing Stiles had overheard let alone understood their conversation about their neighbors. "A blender is what you give someone if you want them to like you. And I found it around the house, so it was okay."

Stilinski ran a hand through his thinning hair, feeling it graying under his fingers. "Come on. Get your shoes on."

"Where are we going?" Stiles was suspicious. He thought maybe he was in trouble, but no one had really said that he was for sure yet. His dad's silence spoke volumes though. When he was really mad, he tended to go quiet rather than loud.

"We're getting that blender back. Now get your shoes on."

"No!" Stiles whined. "We can't take it back! That would be mean! We can't be mean to Lydia!"

"That blender wasn't yours to give away," Claudia set Stiles' little muddy boots down in front of him. "That was Dad's blender, not yours. You didn't ask permission to give it away. You took it without permission. That's stealing, Stiles."

"Stealing?" Stiles echoed, white faced. "But… But I found it. Around the house. Like you said."

"We meant to make cards or paper dolls or whatever the hell it is you make with construction paper," Stilinski was starting to get angry now. "Not give away other people's things! You know better than that, Stiles."

"But I found it!" Stiles wailed, fat tears beginning to well up and spill down his cheeks. "I didn't mean to steal! I'm so sorry!"

"I know you are, bud," Stilinski stroked Stiles' hair a bit. He hadn't meant to make him cry. He was still so shocked that his son would think to give away the blender as a Christmas present. "There's no use crying over it now. We just have to go get it back. Maybe on the way home, we can stop and get Lydia something else. How does that sound?"

Stiles sniffled, wiping his nose on his sleeve. Claudia wrinkled her nose but didn't comment on the gesture. "Really?"

"Let's get the blender back first, then we'll see."

"Hello, Officer," Lydia's mother greeted as she opened the door. She was surprised to see a police officer at her door. She knew she had paid that speeding ticket just last week. Surely they weren't still trying to get her to come down to court. "What can I do for you?"

"Go on," Stilinski pulled his son out from where he was hiding behind his father's legs, a last resort to evade the wrath of Lydia.

"I need to talk to Lydia," Stiles mumbled, not making eye contact with Mrs. Martin. "I gotta get the blender back."

"Um," Mrs. Martin blinked. "The blender? What are you talking about?"

"Stiles seems to have given your daughter our blender for Christmas. We didn't find out about it until today. We're willing to get Lydia something else, but we do want the blender back."

"Oh. Right," Mrs. Martin still looked taken aback by the situation, but let the officer and his boy into her home. "I think she's in the kitchen. I'll go get her." She led the way through the house to spotless kitchen where Lydia stood at the counter with the blender in question. She had arranged long blades of grass and dandelions alongside small rocks in a neat row next to the now somewhat beaten up blender.

"Lydia, love? Your little friend is here."

"Allison or Danny?" Lydia asked without looking up from her obsessive organization of weeds.

"Lydia?" Stiles' voice cracked.

The redhead turned as she realized it was not one of her two coconspirators. "Oh," she said, looking at Stilinski.

"Hi Lydia. How are you?" the officer asked not unkindly.

"Fine," the girl answered stiffly.

"Is that the blender Stiles gave you?"

"Yes."

"Go on and ask her, son," Stilinski instructed.

Stiles swallowed shakily before opening his mouth. "I- We need the blender back. It's my dad's and I didn't know I wasn't allowed to give it to you so I have to get it back because giving it to you was stealing and I didn't mean to steal and I don't want to go to jail so I have to get it back now please."

Lydia stood very still for a moment, looking from Stiles' panicked face to Stilinski's stern one. Glancing at her mother briefly, she turned back to her work without giving answer, choosing instead to begin loading the blender with her weeds, adding a bit of water from the faucet.

"Lydia. What do you say?" Mrs. Martin prompted.

"No."

"No?" Stilinski's eyebrows shot up into his receding hairline. "No what?"

"No, thank you. It's mine. Stiles said so. Taking it from me is stealing, too." Lydia placed the lid carefully on the blender and turned it on. Stilinski and her mother could hear the blades hitting and breaking as the pebbles bombarded the fragile mechanics of the machine. "Kale smoothie, anyone?"

"So, did you get it?" Claudia asked as her shell-shocked husband and son clambered back into the car.

"I don't want to talk about it."

A/N: We're really sorry about not updating. There really is no excuse but I (the writer) have had a very trying semester that involved many writing classes, going to school full time, and managing three jobs. The editor started a new job and his car kept breaking down, so there really wasn't much time for us to get together to work on any of our fics. However, we are planning on continuing this collection as well as finish In Exchange. Sorry for the lack of updates once again!