Blurry » Sterek

Chapter 7

Considering Stiles' lack of sleep, he doesn't wake to his alarm nor his fathers shouts about being late. He's finally awake an hour after he's supposed to be.

Since he's already late, Stiles doesn't see the point in rushing. Instead, he showers and lazily picks an outfit. After breakfast, he finally hops into his Jeep with his backpack.

By the time he reaches school, it's already halfway through third hour. He slips a note onto his teachers desk, who glances at it before sighing. "Nice of you to show up, Stilinski. We're working on a project with a partner—" Stiles whips around to find Scott, who sends an apologetic smile. "—yes, dear McCall is taken. The only student left is Hale. He has a topic," the teacher finishes, waving off Stiles dismissively. His stomach drops at the name. "Uh, teach, I don't think that's such a good idea..."

"Maybe you should have been on time then," he says back, now grading homework instead of paying attention. "But—"

"It's Hale or you take a zero," he deadpans, making the teen groan. He turns around to meet a deadly glare. "Great. Just great," Stiles mutters under his breath.

Stiles scowls at Scott from across the classroom, now sitting in the desk next to Derek. "So, uh, what's the topic?"

"The Nanking Massacre," Derek says flatly, not bothering to advert his attention. "Okay. When's it due?"

"Tuesday."

"Tuesday—! It's Friday!" Stiles exclaims, still getting no reaction from Derek whatsoever. "Yeah, we have to work on it over the weekend," Derek mumbles, definitely far from enthusiastic about this whole situation. Stiles thinks about spending time with Derek, and after slamming him against the lockers. Then again, he could ask about the party. Either way, it's going to be very uncomfortable.

"My place then?" Stiles questions awkwardly, Derek hasn't even looked away from his desk yet. "No, my place," Derek immediately requests. Though it's more of a demand. "Fine. When?"

"Saturday."

"Great. Can't wait," Stiles sarcastically smiles.

It would be different—it could be different—if Derek just came clean about what Stiles did all those years ago. Stiles would be ecstatic to be partners with Derek and hangout at his house, maybe even pester him about his time away from Beacon Hills. They could be best friends again, like they were never apart. But instead, every time Stiles looks into those sea eyes, the only thing he's greeted with is a cold glare. It hurts like hell, to the point where Stiles feels like breaking down, but instead masks it with anger. He's pissed at himself for whatever he did that night and he's pissed that Derek can't forgive him, or tell him what happened at the very least.

The bell sounds, sending Derek straight to the door and out of the other males presence. Stiles sighs and Scott meets his side a moment later.

"Are you going to be okay, dude?" Scott asks, placing a comforting hand on his friends back. "Eventually."

As he's gathering all of his things to move onto the next class, he notices a slip of paper that looks to be ripped off a worksheet. On it is a scribbled number. With another sigh escaping Stiles' lips, he stuffs the scrap into his jeans pocket and carries on.

***

Stiles wakes the next morning with two text messages. One reading: Project. And the other is a link to his address. It's only ten in the morning and Derek messaged him an hour ago.

"Awesome, now I'm late," Stiles mutters to himself. He hasn't showered or eaten, but out the front door he goes.