Chapter Text
June
If 0 < a < b < c < d < e in the equation above, then the greatest increase in S would result from adding 1 to the value of which variable?
"You must be a Hale," the new librarian said after giving Derek a squinty once-over. He was wearing glasses, so it was doubtful he actually needed to squint to see.
"Yes, sir," Derek said, shifting his backpack from one shoulder to the other, using his manners even though the guy looked like he was about Derek's age; this was probably a summer job for him. Derek hoped he wasn't going to give him crap about studying during the break. The PSAT was coming up fast, and Derek had a few weak spots he wanted to work on over the summer.
"Ugh. Don't call me sir. My dad is a sir. I'm Stiles," the librarian said, and held out his hand for Derek to shake. Derek's hand was probably hot and sweaty, but Stiles didn't appear to notice. He didn't even wipe his own hand on his pants after they shook. "So which one are you?"
"Derek." The quiet one, according to his father. The sensitive one, according to his mother. The biggest dork on the planet, according to Laura.
"I went to school with Kurt," Stiles said, smiling. So he was older than Derek thought. There was a five year gap between Kurt, the oldest, and Derek, with Laura in between. "We were on the lacrosse team together."
Derek smiled back and nodded and tried not to look disappointed, because his older brother's numerous athletic exploits were a tedious and inescapable topic in this town. Before Stiles could really get started on Kurt's illustrious high school sports career, the phone on the desk rang, and while Stiles was dealing with that Derek escaped to his usual table way in the back by the window and got out his computer and his study guides.
It would have been nice if a friendly, good-looking guy wanted to talk to Derek because he was Derek, for once, instead of Kurt's younger brother. That didn't happen a lot, though. Derek wondered when he'd get used to the disappointment, if ever.
~*~
"Hey, Derek," Stiles said, waving, the next time Derek walked in, which shouldn't have made him as happy as it did, that Stiles remembered him, but it did.
Instead of heading to his usual table, Derek snagged a chair near the periodicals, which gave him an unobstructed view of the desk, and thus an unobstructed view of Stiles. From this vantage point he could sneak looks at Stiles while he studied, and he used them as a reward system. Every time he completed another page in the study guide, he got to peek at Stiles before he moved on to the next one. Derek liked the way Stiles' arms looked when he stretched them above his head, and the way his hair stuck up like he just got out of bed, and the way he chewed on his lower lip when he typed on the computer.
"PSAT, huh?" Stiles said a little later, as he wandered by with a small stack of books cradled in his arms. He jerked his chin at the books strewn across Derek's table, and it made his glasses slide down a little.
"Yeah," Derek said, and braced for some kind of teasing remark, but Stiles just nodded and said, "Don't forget your calculator. I had to do all the math by hand and it sucked."
"You forgot your calculator?" Derek asked, incredulous. He'd already typed up a list of everything he needed to bring to the test, and hung it on the bulletin board above his desk at home.
"And my pencil. Had to borrow one from the girl next to me," Stiles said, grinning.
Derek couldn't bring himself to grin back. Just the thought of that happening—on test day!—was making him nauseous. It was the stuff of nightmares. Derek's literal nightmares; he'd had dreams just like that more than once.
"I'm sure you'll do fine," Stiles reassured him, perhaps noticing Derek's distress.
"I hope so," Derek said, and because they were alone in the library he let his eyes follow Stiles as he walked away, taking in the way his hair curled behind his ears, and the flash of skin where his shirt had ridden up on the right side.
Looking at Stiles made Derek feel overly warm and a little fidgety, and he'd had enough crushes so far in his young life to know what that meant. But he'd never felt quite this warm and fidgety before.
~*~
The pictures that inspired this (found on Tumblr):
