A/N: Thanks for reading! R&Rs are greatly appreciated. Please tell me about anything I can fix or improve on. Warning: Sex will be in later chapters. That is all. Carry on.


Everyone is born with a Number. No one knows why, there is no scientific explanation or anything. They're there. There is not specific place or spot for them either. Every Number is different. But you see, the thing about these Numbers is that there is only one other person in the world, who has ever existed, who has the same under as you. That person is, well, they are your 'soul mate'. Their Number is in the same exact spot and matches your exactly.

Most people never find their 'soul mate', it's actually rather rare. The only people in our school who has found their 'soul mates' were Danny and Ethan. Some live in different countries, some keep their numbers hidden. There has even been a few times, just a few, where the two were born in different time periods. And some, well, they just don't look. I actually asked Danny one about what was different between being with your 'soul mate' and someone else. Just out of curiosity. He just replied with 'Everything' and ignored me when I asked anymore questions. I bugged him for days to tell me what he meant. soon he had enough and finally told me. He said that every touch was more intense, every kiss more passionate. Any contact at all could leave your skin tingling, like a buzz of electricity. Or... something like that. Of course I was curious about the sex because, I mean, if just a touch leave you tingling then the sex must be amazing. But for once I was able to keep my mouth shut because I was almost positive that if I asked about it he would punch me. Rather hard...

But ANYWAYS, yeah, most people never find their 'soul mate'. They just end up with someone else, someone who's number will never match theirs. Someone who will never be their 'soul mate'. But I don't think I'm going to have a problem though. I am almost positive that my number matches a girl's name Lydia. Of course, the only reason I'm not completely sure is because I haven't ever seen her number. And, well, she hasn't seen mine. But that's only because my number is in between my shoulder blades and its apparently 'against school rules to walk around without a shirt'. So really it's the school's fault that Lydia and I aren't together yet. But, of course school isn't that terrible. It was actually pretty good that day, there was even a new student. I was walking to class with Scott when I first heard about him. He was apparently 'super hot and muscular and ohmygawd'. Of course, I hadn't seen him at the time so I had yet to form my own opinions but from what I heard he was a 'bad boy', they dark, broody, leather jacket kinda guy. I had hoped that I didn't have to meet this guy but sadly I wasn't going to be that lucky.

Scott and I walked into our class room and took our seat and just after the bell rang the teacher spoke up, in her always too cheery voice.

"Alright. So today, before we start, I would like to introduce our new student!"

Some students leaned forward in interest, other didn't care, and other (Mostly girls) giggled to themselves, obviously already knowing who this 'sexy, bad boy' was. I groaned inwardly, having hoped I wouldn't have to see him. But no, of course he was in my class. Of fucking course.

The teacher smiled at the back of the class, "Would you mind coming up here?"

There was a quiet huff and shuffling as I resisted looking back. The kid moved to the front of room, his hand shoved in the pockets of his leather jacket. What do ya know? He's actually a bad boy in leather.

His dark eyes scanned lazily over the class, one eyebrow cocked slightly. I held my breath when his gaze moved over me. His eyes lingered for a moment as if something caught his attention. Maybe it was the bright color of my hoodie or the fact that I was, rather sloppily, chewing on the end of my pen. But either way his gaze drove into me as we stared at each other for nothing more than a moment, but it felt like hours before sliding over the rest of the class.

The teacher chirped something like 'Oh tell us you name, dear,' and Scott turned to me with a questioning look and all I could do was shrug. We turned our attention back to the kid just as he spoke, "Derek. My name's Derek Hale."

A lot of the girls seemed to take up this new information with interest. But the teacher just grinned.

"Tell us about yourself."

Derek gave a small huff, a smirk tugging at his lips, "Do you really need to know anything else?"

The teacher rolled her eyes with a chuckle, "Come on. Tell us one thing."

Derek's eyes roamed over the class again.

"Alright, fine."

The smirk masked his face now, his voice teasing.

"I'm single."

XxoOoxX

"What a self conceded dick! 'Oh look at me. I'm a cool bad boy. I'm single. I know you all want me. Oh look at me in all my leather-"

Scott gave a huffed laugh as he opened his locker, "Why do you even care?"

Rolling my eyes I did the same, "I don't. It just annoys me. Who does he think he is? Maybe leather makes you a dick. But apparently it also makes people want to have sex with you so maybe it's not all that bad. But-"

"I just hope I don't have any more classes with him. He freaks me out."

"Why? He's all talk. I'm sure he is a wimp behind all the scowling and leather."

Scott looked at me bewildered, "What is it with you and leather?"

I was about to reply with some sort of snarky remark that probably sounded better in my head but was interrupted when the devil himself walked past us. More than a few girls gawked at him as he strutted down the hallway, the drool practically sliding down their faces. As he passed us, even as I told myself it was a bad idea, I muttered, "Dear god, he's such a dick.."

Scott chuckled and I started to as well, but I realized I wasn't as quiet as I thought when Derek turned to me. His eyes slitted in a glare and his face pulled into an dangerous scowl. Even though he was glaring this time, it was just like it was back in the classroom. What felt like hours compacted into second, probably not even that. The weight of his glare crashing down on me, holding me where I stood. His scowl deepened, breaking our seeming trance. His voice was a growl.

"Something you want to say to me?"

The sound of his voice sent goose bumps rippling down my arms. And even though he was probably about to rip my throat out with his teeth, I couldn't help but acknowledge that he was talking to me. Shaking the thought away I stood straighter, surprised to find that we were almost the same height. I smirked and got ready to speak but Scott stomped on my foot to shut me up.

I held in a yelp as I shook my head, "Nope, nothing to say at all."

He gave a huff that may or may not have resembled a laugh, turned and began walking away as I let out a sigh of relief.

XxoOoxX

Though I knew it was a bad idea, the next time I passed him (Which happened to be in 3 period. Of course I couldn't have only one class with him.) I did the same thing. And he glared at me just the same.

It continued like that the rest of the day. And maybe even the next. Or the next. Becoming sort of a routine. I would call him a name or make a snarky comment under my breath. Every time he would turn and glare at me, moving closer until I had to take a step back. His face was always pulled in a mean scowl and his eyes flashed with anger. But I was never scared, I never thought he would hurt me, but I would stare at him wide-eyed as if shocked by the reaction, though it was mostly the same thing every time. His voice was always rough when he asked if I wanted to repeat myself and I would always reply with a 'Nope' and a quick shake of my head, though it was hard to keep a smirk from playing on my lips. Then he would turn and walk the other way, leaving me behind. And every time he would walk away I found myself already looking forward to the next encounter.

Scott told me that 'I was just poking the bear' but I couldn't stop myself. I started to take the longer ways to class, knowing that he would pass by me. And I am almost positive that I passed him in a few times on my way to class when his was in the other hall. I knew this was absurd, but I thought it was hilarious every time he huffed and puffed and stormed off. One day, I have no idea what I was thinking, but I got daring. When he passed by I didn't mutter, I spoke clearly.

"It's Stiles, by the way."

He turned to me, his glare replace by confusion, "What?"

"My name. It's Stiles."

He was a bit hesitant when he spoke, surprised by the change, "I'm Der-"

"I know," Smirking, I turned and walked the other way.

XxoOoxX

It sort of became our 'thing'; Me bugging him until he was ready to rip my throat out. And I liked it. We didn't talk much other than to insult each other and the very rare times when he didn't walk away, allowing us to have a small conversation.

I wouldn't say we were friends exactly. Our relationship was too complex for that title. But we did actually get along every once in a while. Once or twice I could've sworn I saw him smile. Of course, sometimes my teasing went too far and Derek, furious, reverted to yelling and the occasional slap behind the head. But things like that never stopped me. I would always come back and do it all over again. Some days I would annoy him so much that I knew I had to draw a line or I would be a victim of murder. Today was one of those days. But sadly, I forgot to draw the line.

I had been taunting him all day: Calling him names, making fun of his leather jacket, muttering things under my breath that he could just barely hear. I knew I was getting close to having to stop, but I didn't realize how close when I followed him out of our 5th period classroom.

I chattered continuously, talking quickly like I knew he hated. He gave me as sideways glare and a small growl, "Fuck off."

Smirking, I continued to follow.

"Come on Derek. Don't be such a Sourpuss," I grinned, my voice taunting. I could have done this all day, but he growled and turned quickly. His hand gripped my shirt and he pressed me against the locker. It wasn't his hand that pinned me there, it was his glare. He looked pissed enough that I didn't dare move, even with the padlock digging into my back. I stared at him a bit wide eyed and though we were the same height, he seemed to tower over me. But my smirk held firm.

"Whoa, Derek. I didn't know you liked it rough. Oh well, that's not too much of a problem. I mean, it will take some getting used to, but I'm sure I can adapt."

He growled again, "Would it kill you to shut up for 5 seconds?"

"I could try. It might be easier if you gagged me though. Do you like S&Ms? You seem like an S&Ms kinda guy. I bet you like gagging people, don't you?"

Derek didn't say anything, just huffed angrily, his scowl deepening.

"So you do? Huh. You like tying the other person up, gagging them."

"If you don't shut up I will kill you."

I started to speak again but another growl cut me off. We stayed like that for a while, me smirking at him and him glaring at me. But soon my smirk fell and his glare faded, though he still look menacing. His fist was still tightly gripping my shirt, but he had stopped applying force and now it slowly moved with the rise and fall of my chest.

People milled around us, moving to their classed but we, well, I, took no notice. We stared. Our gazes flickering back and forth between the other's eyes. At one point my eyes fell down to his lips and just as I looked back to his eyes, I saw his gaze do the same.

When the bell rang Derek seemed to come back to his senses, he glared and pressed me harder against the locker before letting go and stalking off down the hallway.

I stayed where I was, leaning against the locker, for a while longer. I watched him until he disappeared into the crowd. Then I realized something that shocked me, horrified me. It was just my imagination, it had to be. My hands curled into fists and my jaw clench. I closed my eyes trying to make it go away but it didn't, it stayed and taunted me. I could have been over reacting but I was still worried because nothing like this had ever happened with anyone else. It was something I thought would never happen. But it was there. The place where Derek's hand had been, though the shirt was in the way, the skin tingled and just underneath that, my heart fluttered.