Chapter Text
“Stilinski, you’re with Hale.”
One sentence to ruin Stiles’ already bad day, as if chemistry with Harris wasn’t enough. He was already grounded for the week; thanks to late night video games with Scott, and not only had Lydia ignored him yet again today, but Jackson had run him into the lockers again for no reason. Because seriously, if you were gonna date a popular, beautiful goddess like Lydia, people were going to look. That was no reason to take it out on Stiles, not to mention, his lack of lunch today. It had been either feed his beautiful jeep or feed himself and seeing as how the one took him to school and back, while the other option he could just as easily do at home, he'd spent his lunch money on gas.
At least he didn't have to ride his bike to school like Scott.
But instead, Stiles got stuck working on the project with Hale, the kid who rarely talked to people in class, sniffed everything like there was a rotting corpse in the room, and was practically attached to his older sister at the hip. Seriously, people like this and Scott kept Stiles from being popular. Total life-ruiners. Like Harris, who was failing him just because Stiles preferred to spend his time killing mythical creatures online and researching obscure topics (that one time in economics totally should have gotten him extra credit) than doing homework. Harris knew Stiles hadn't done his homework that second week, how was he supposed to know those particular chemicals exploded if mixed in the wrong order?
Stiles planned on moping around the house all weekend, not writing this stupid chemistry project with the creepiest kid in class. It's not even that Hale was that creepy, not in the traditional stalker sense. But the potential was there, as the kid watched everything going on around him with the barest hint of a smile. Add in a few shadows, maybe some muscles, and a creepy leer instead of the all-teeth smile he had now, and he'd be a grade-A creeper. Who was now standing in front of Stiles like he expected something.
“You any good at chemistry?” Stiles asked, wanting his terrible day to just be over already. If Hale was stupid enough for Stiles to push the entire project onto his shoulders and not take any responsibility himself, then so be it.
The dork just smiled and took the bait. “I’m not too bad. I like how everything in the world makes sense, you know? With the periodic table.” He had this shy smile and looked away from Stiles, like he was divulging some kind of secret that no one was supposed to know.
What. A. Dork.
Seriously, what do you even say to that? “Right,” Stiles replied, taking the moment to get back on topic. “So, I have lacrosse practice…”
And Hale just stepped right up to the bat, full swing. “I can type the report. I don’t have anything…” Too easy. Man, he was asking for it. “I mean, I don’t have lacrosse after school or anything.” And all with a smile like he was happy to please. What was this kid, desperate? Stiles scoffed inwardly, wondering how far he could push it, how much he could get Hale to do before he caught on. It had taken hours of begging (and a box of doughnuts) to convince his dad to let him stay for practice even while grounded, but at the moment, Stiles wasn't looking forward to spending the rest of his day getting tackled by a bunch of sweaty guys over and over again while the coach yelled on in sadistic delight.
“I’m sure you don’t.” Kid like that, Stiles would be more likely to go out with Lydia than Derek was to get a date. Beacon Hills didn't have much in the way of after school sports besides lacrosse, seeing as how their baseball team was disbanded two years ago when they lost the coach to a different school across the state. “I’m sorry, what is your name again?” Manipulation was easier if Hale thought Stiles was more invested than he really is, and hell, this was a social experiment. Besides, it would be good to know his first name, as they lived in California, not Asia.
“Derek. It’s Derek,” and at least Hale hadn’t included that stupid, gigantic smile of his this time. No matter how much it made Stiles feel like he was giving a puppy a belly rub.