Chapter 2

The next few days were painful. Jackson damn near had a heart attack every time his phone vibrated. Every single time the phone buzzed to life, he hoped that it was Stiles, finally taking up on his offer. His heart would practically be beating out of his chest, waiting to read his text message. Only it never came.

Not the first day. Not the next day. Or the day after that.

It just never came.

Jackson actually began to worry that he even gave Stiles the right number. He had been so nervous that day in the locker room that he wouldn't be surprised if all of his 1's looked like 7's or something ridiculous like that. Believing that he made the mistake allowed the blonde to cope with the fact that maybe Stiles really didn't want to talk to him.

Of course, at that very moment, Jackson's phone vibrated on his nightstand across the room. And without fail, his heart jumped up to his throat. He debated on just not going to look at it, because deep down, he knew it wasn't from the person he really wanted it to be. He turned his eyes back to the homework sitting un-touched on his desk. He was about to start on his calculus when his phone vibrated again.

This time, he couldn't ignore it. He got up to get his phone, internally calculating the odds that one of those texts was from the awkward brunette. Jackson was about ready to throw up by the time he actually got over to his phone. His fingers trembled as they clicked the buttons to light up the screen.

The first text was from Danny. Hey Jax, wanna watch the game tonight? Should be a good one!

He hesitated before pressing the button to go to the next unread message. Could he handle it if it were Stiles? Could he handle it if it wasn't Stiles? Jackson's palms were sweating far too much for his liking.

Hi honey! Your father and I won't be home until late tonight. Feel free to ask Danny to come over if you'd like! Love you xoxo

The blonde's heart sank a little. He knew he just needed to accept the fact that Stiles was never going to text him. He sent out short replies to both his mother and Danny before plopping down on his bed. He put his head in his hands and tried to relax himself. He shouldn't be this upset. It's only Stiles, for fuck's sake. Why does he even matter?

Jackson sent back a quick I love you too text to his mom just so she knew he was alive. He also decided to invite Danny over to watch the game because it looks like he was going to be alone for the rest of the night. As much as he hated to admit it, even to himself, Jackson knew if he were alone, he'd spend the whole night moping. Company from his best friend should do a sufficient job of distracting him from his phone. At least, that's what Jackson was desperately hoping for.


The next day, Jackson honestly regretted letting Danny stay over the night before because he's never been this sleep deprived in his life. He made a mental note to future Jackson: never insult Danny's Call of Duty skills otherwise you'll have to spend the next 7 hours of your life watching him kick your ass to the moon and back. Zombie Jackson decided that the last place he wanted to be was in this fucking math class. As if it weren't already hard enough to pay attention when he was fully functioning, it was especially difficult when he was barely awake. Between leering at Stiles and attempting to take a nap, Jackson barely paid any mind to anything the teacher said…which is why Jackson nearly fell out of his seat when he realized that Stiles got up out of his chair and began to walk in his direction.

Jackson looked down at what he was wearing. Fortunately, even in his sleep deprived stupor, he managed to put on an outfit that was socially acceptable. He was still completely clueless as to why Stiles was heading in his direction. Jackson's palms began to sweat and his heart rate began to pick up. He was positive that everyone in the room could hear it. He swallowed nervously when Stiles took the seat beside him.

Jackson didn't look at or speak to Stiles immediately, mainly because he was afraid he'd start talking and his voice would crack. He couldn't let the brunette know he was nervous. He was Jackson fucking Whittemore. He just doesn't do nervous.

After a minute or so, his nerves calmed down enough so that he could face the boy sitting next to him. Stiles wasn't even looking at Jackson. He was just staring at his own hands like they were the most fascinating things he'd ever seen. Jackson was just about to ask Stiles why he was even over here in the first place when the teacher's voice interrupted him.

"Alright guys, the project is due two weeks from today. I'll allow some class time to work on it, but be prepared to do a majority of it on your own time."

Project? What project? Had he really been so out of it that he hadn't even heard the assignment? Well great, now Jackson had no idea what he was supposed to be doing. To make matters worse, if he asked his teacher, he'd obviously get his ass handed to him by a teacher who would know he was sleeping during her class.

To avoid unnecessary confrontation and ass-handing, Jackson just figured he'd ask Stiles. I mean, the kid was always paying attention, even when he didn't look like it. He'd have to know what Jackson's project was on.

"Uh, so… what am I supposed to be doing, exactly?" Jackson said in Stiles' direction.

Stiles jerked his head up so fast it was like he forgot someone was even sitting next to him and the sound of their voice scared the shit out of him. Jackson tried to hide his smirk.

"Well, our topic is on fractals, so I think she's expecting us to make a visual representation of them" Stiles answered, with his eyes on literally everything else in the room except for Jackson.

"Our topic?" Jackson really didn't mean to ask that out loud, but it had already slipped out. Obviously he was too caught off guard to control his inner monologue. Damn.

"Uh, yeah… we're partners," Stiles replied. He finally looked at Jackson's face. "But I guess you didn't hear that considering you look like you haven't slept in a year."

Jackson was too overwhelmed to respond. His brain was begging him to say something, but nothing came out. Finally Jackson came to his senses enough to at least look away from Stiles, because openly staring at him like a dumbass was not the impression that he had been going for.

Way to fucking go, now you just look like a creepy asshole. What the fuck is wrong with – Jackson's internal criticism was interrupted by the dismissal bell. Jackson began to put his books into his backpack, hoping to figure out a way to redeem himself.

"Um, I guess we should work out some kind of schedule to work on this?" Stiles said, keeping his eyes focused on the table.

Jackson gave a slight nod. He debated on just leaving it at that, but then brilliance struck. He quickly added, "Well, you have my number, Stilinski. You better put it to good use." He really hoped he didn't sound as nervous as he felt. He was trying to go for confident. Confidence always works, right?

Stiles' head shot up. His eyes had some weird emotion that Jackson couldn't quite categorize. But before he could reply, Jackson gave him his best "hot-guy" smirk and turned to walk out of the room. He hadn't even made it down the hall before his phone was vibrating.

One new text. From an unknown number.

Hey, it's Stiles. I can come over Saturday to work on this. Is that okay?

Jackson smiles to himself as he types a simple Yes in reply.

Finally, he's got a foot in the door.

Now to work on getting the rest of his body in too.


A/N: HEY GUYS! I'm SO SO SO SO sorry that this took so long to update, finals were a real bitch and I had a little bit of writers block. Thanks to all who reviewed, favorited, alerted and such. I'll be sure to update a lot sooner :) Hope you like it!