Why must you keep doing this to him, Sasuke. Every friggin’ time, like clockwork. The timing is almost suspicious. Because whenever Stiles reaches his limit and decides that the other boy is too much a pain to bother with, Sasuke has to go and say something uncomfortably tragic. This is bullshit. Such bullshit. If only Scott were here—then Stiles could just foist the task of befriending the clerk on the werewolf. It could be a game of hot potato.

“If you tell me how to pronounce yours, I’ll tell you how to pronounce mine,” he says, partly because he can barely remember what the name tag had said and party because he honestly couldn’t sound it out. “It’s Polish.”