The halls were busy, and noisy, like they usually were after the first bell rang, letting the students know that it was time to head to the first class of the day. Some of the students loitered around a little, knowing they had at least five minutes until the tardy bell rang. One of those students was Jackson Whittemore; popular, good looking, captain of the lacrosse team. He was one of those guys that seemed to always get just what he wanted. The guy even had decent grades, for the most part. There were still a few classes he struggled with, but he would not admit that to anyone. It broke the facade of being perfect that he had. He was rich, never got into trouble, was dating the hottest girl in school. Jackson Whittemore had it all.

He groaned when his best friend, Danny, pointed out that they would be late if they did not go to class right then, and they made their way to the mythology classroom. Not surprisingly, the front seat as near the middle of the room as he could get, sat Stiles Stilinski. Now, Stiles was not the kid's first name; nobody knew what it really was. From everyone's understanding, his one friend (and best friend) did not even know what it was. Stiles was smart, got straight A's without even trying. He always seemed to have a new, ridiculously large book from the library to pour through in his free time. There was also a composition notebook and a sketchbook stacked underneath the book of the moment that he would randomly grab to mess with when he felt the need. He wore glasses when he couldn't be bothered with contacts, and almost always seemed to wear clothes that were a size too big. He was poor, and had only his father after his mother's death when he was younger. The teen was decent looking, but was so... Stiles that it did not really benefit him any.

The kid was loud and annoying, never knowing when to shut up or sit still. He was basically a bench-warmer on the lacrosse team, and Jackson practically sneered at the sight of the guy alone. Jackson was not sure why he disliked Stiles as much as he did; it was not like the other guy had done anything to merit it. Still, Jackson felt an uneasy feeling that he tied with dislike and often picked on the overly-energetic teen.

"Settle down, class," said Ms. Dena, the mythology teacher, as she opened her gradebook to quickly take attendance, able to just glance over the faces to know who was missing. It was a perk of being in a small school, unless you were trying to skip. Then your parents would know before you even got home. "Alright. I've got last week's tests graded. So, while I'm handing those out, why don't you lot read the chapter I know you didn't read over the weekend, like you were supposed to."

Everyone in the class, except for Stiles, groaned as they pulled out their book on mythological creatures. Stiles just pulled out his sketchbook and doodled instead. He had done the reading, as he said softly to his best friend, Scott. Jackson's focus was on the papers that the teacher sat in front of him instead of the reading. He turned it over enough to see the big, red "F" scribbled at the top along with the "see me after class" note that Ms. Dena had left. "Fuck," sighed Jackson, not loud enough for anyone to hear as he sank down in his seat a little.

Once class was over, the students gathered their things and left the classroom, Stiles grinning with a "Thanks!" at the compliment on the perfect score he had gotten on the test from Ms. Dena. Jackson stayed in his seat, though, having told Danny to go on to English without him. The lacrosse star, picked up his bag and test before going up to his teacher's desk as he said, "You wanted to see me?"

"Yes," replied Dena with a nod, smiling softly at him. "You're a bright kid, Jackson, and I know how important good grades are for you, being in lacrosse. You're lacking this semester, here and in English. So, Mrs. Barb and I were talking, and we believe it may benefit you to have a tutor in these area. It would just be a few nights a week, and if you agree to go to every session, the coach won't have to bench you for your grades."

Jackson sighed heavily. A tutor? He needed a tutor? It was ridiculous. He was Jackson Whittemore, for crying out loud! He wanted to throw a fit, to throw money around, threaten to tell his parents, but instead, he simply agreed and went along his way as the students for Dena's next class made their way in. A tutor was the last thing on earth he wanted to deal with. Maybe he could intimidate whichever nerdy kid they got to do it into letting him skip out without telling on him.

However, that idea was quickly slashed to pieces when Jackson found out that none other than Stiles Stilinski was going to be his tutor. Great. Just what he needed. Jackson sighed heavily and dropped into the chair across from Stiles in the library. "If you tell anyone you're tutoring me, I'll strangle you," Jackson grumbled, earning himself an eyebrow lift and an amused smirk.

"You're going to have to try harder than that to intimidate me, Jackson," Stiles replied, opening his English textbook to the page they were on in class. Really, though, with the people Stiles generally hung out with, Jackson was anything but intimidating. "But, I won't tell anyone. It's not like I really want to explain why I'm spending my time with Mr. Popular Asshole himself."

"Hey!"

Jackson glared at Stiles, the younger teen just blinking slowly as if he could not figure out what he had said wrong. Jackson was an asshole, and Stiles had no problems letting the guy know it. It had always been that way, though Stiles almost thought there was a time in which they were almost friends. Jackson had just figured out that he was adopted, and Stiles' mother had died. They had spent some time talking outside the school counselor's office; but, then, once they were in front of people once again, Stiles was the loner nerdy kid that Jackson wanted nothing to do with once again. "Let's just get started, yeah? I do have other places to be," Stiles stated.

He scowled when Jackson snorted a little in response. "You have places to be? Like where? A Star Trek convention?"

"There's nothing wrong with Star Trek conventions, but no," replied Stiles, shrugging off the insult that the statement had been designated for. "Some of us actually have jobs to get to."

Stiles had been working part time at the coffee shop in town, making some extra cash to help his dad out around the house, and to work on his jeep with. He was also saving up for college. He knew his dad had a savings set aside for him, but even with that, he would have to take out some loans if he did not get a lot of scholarships, not that anyone doubted Stiles would get every one he applied for. He was first in line for class valedictorian, much to Lydia's dismay, and from what Jackson understood, they had Stiles' IQ tested, and it was really high. It would probably be a bit intimidating if that information did not describe the pale, gangly kid sitting in front of him.

"Good luck at the game tomorrow," Stiles said when they had finished and were gathering their things, pausing to scratch his face just under his glasses before pulling his bag up onto his shoulder with a wave.

Jackson just stared at Stiles as the other teen left the library. It was the oddest tutoring session that Jackson had ever had. Well, it was the only tutoring session. It was still more odd than he had ever pictured. There were very little insults, but they did not talk about anything beyond the coursework after Stiles' information about having a job. It was formal and stiff, and not something Jackson expected from Stiles. Then again, he and Stiles were not friends, so there would be a difference between his studying with Scott and their tutoring session. A part of him was a bit disappointed about that; but, he shoved that feeling aside and blamed it on lack of sleep before getting up and leaving to find Danny.

It did not occur to Jackson that Stiles wished him luck on the game that the other teen would be at, as if he wouldn't be there until he climbed into his bed that night. However, Jackson shrugged it aside, not thinking anything of it.

Stiles was not at school the next day, or the day after that. He was not there the entire rest of the week. It took a few days before anyone else seemed to notice, but Jackson had noticed that first day. Scott seemed more subdued than normal, and Allison kept shooting him worried glances when they could not be tangled up in one another. Jackson really did not get what Allison saw in Scott; but, that was something else entirely.

It was not until Monday that Stiles returned to school. He looked as if he had not slept much, if at all, in the time that he had been gone. Jackson almost did not see him until he heard Scott make a sound similar to that of a wounded puppy before rushing over to hug Stiles, who hugged his best friend tightly while insisting that he was okay. It was not until they were all in their first class that Jackson realized the previous week had been the anniversary of his mother's death, something that never seemed to not effect Stiles and the sheriff.

Still, Stiles answered any questions that he was asked in the classroom, having kept up on his homework and reading. He did not want to fall behind. Plus, having his homework made staying at home easier. It gave him something to focus on. He mostly avoided school to avoid those looks of pity that he always got around that time, plus on the actual day of his mother's death, he was just as much of a wreck as his dad was.

After classes that day, Stiles and Jackson met up in the library for another study session. It was a lot quieter than the last one, and it unnerved Jackson a bit. Stiles was not a quiet person. Yet, that day, he did not have much to say. They soon parted ways, and Jackson focused on the party that evening and how great Lydia was going to work. He almost found himself wondering what Stiles was doing a few times, but scowled and pushed all that crap aside. Like he gave a crap about the class nerd.