“/I/ wanted that one,” she informs him, cheerfully vicious. “And you’re not really paying attention to the game.” She is about to add something else, something that will probably shatter the fragile peace between them, when her mom knocks on the door and puts her head in.
“Is Stiles staying for dinner?” she inquires. “You should probably let your dad know you’re still here, Stiles.”
“Do you want this one?” Stiles asks, holding it up at her as he stares at her directly in the eyes. He doesn’t really care what she wants, honestly, it’s just a game and he wants to enjoy someone that he’s friends with. He’s about to say something else before he notices that the door opens, his mom questioning on if he’s going to stay.
He reaches for his phone and nods, “I doubt he’ll worry about me, but I’ll tell him to make you feel better.” A charming grin following his words.
Summer’s mom nods and withdraws, and Summer herself pushes his hand with the card down. “No,” she scolds, “that’s not how it works. You bought it, you keep it. I just get to complain.” She eyes the pile of glittering pieces on his side of the board, and his constructs and deck, and makes a pretend disgusted face. “You’re going to beat me anyway.”
She sits back and frowns busily at her cards, planning further strategy. She refuses to go down without a fight, and they can probably finish this game before dinner.
