“Summer! Summer, what?” He asked, matching her tone. He grinned, to make it known that he was teasing.
“No! Don’t do that, Stiles, please don’t do that.” She grabbed at his arm and shook it. “I’m pretty sure if he knows I’ll never see him again. He doesn’t like touch, so if I — so — besides. The last two times I was interested in someone it didn’t go so well.”
Stiles sighed and looked down to the red head. “Okay, I know about Isaac. He’s a… I would say friend, but I know him. Pretty well,” he explained, patting her hand. “Just talk to him or let me talk to him. You’re taking this too seriously.”
“I’m asking you, Stiles, please don’t tell him. That I’m — that I like him. Like that. He doesn’t need some crazy girl throwing herself at him — we’ve met /once/. /Once/,” she stressed. “I just need to know how long I should wait so I don’t seem desperate or clingy.”