The next day, Stiles was able to receive a master schedule for his classes. The professors sounded decent enough (but he definitely did not "research" them on a website that most would laugh at, no, not Stiles). The classes he needed to fill his credit hours the first semester looked awfully terrifying, though.
"Who names a class Comparative Ethnic Conflict? It sounds like the scariest class ever, and that's including Harris's Chemistry, Scott," Stiles sighed as he was hanging off of Scott's bed. Scott was in the corner, playing on his laptop, while Stiles was on his back, hanging off of the bed – Derek was nowhere to be found, but that seemed to be the norm for him.
Scott laughed. "Someone who wants to torture you, of course."
Stiles, as much as possible in his position, turned his mouth into an exaggerated frown. "Funny."
Scott shook his head playfully and looked at Stiles. "Stiles, it's college. It isn't going to be really easy like high school was for you."
From his position on the bed, Stiles turned over and sat onto his knees on the bed while blood rushed to the rest of his body quickly. He took a second to steady himself before narrowing his eyes at Scott. "Easy? High school was not easy for me. The work, sure, but not the whole make-friends-and-have-a-social-life thing." Before Scott could protest, Stiles continued, "Don't even fight me on this, you know it's true." Stiles sighed, "I just thought I would have more time for fun, but it looks like my classes are going to murder me."
"Dude, you'll be fine. I won't let you get too busy to not have time for fun," Scott grinned.
Stiles tried to keep himself from smiling as he shook his head. "Fine, we need some parties anyway."
†
As it turns out, it didn't take Stiles and Scott but two days before they found a party.
Allison, the pretty girl Scott had met (fallen in love with) at orientation, had called Scott and invited them to her sorority right outside of campus. She told Scott that they had plenty of drinks at the party and that he could bring whoever he wanted as long as they wouldn't throw up on their nice lawn because the head-sister would get pissed. Scott and Stiles could even walk from their dorm, so they didn't have the trouble of finding a designated driver.
As they stood in the middle of a house full of girls (and very few guys, Stiles noted), Scott thanked Stiles for coming with him.
"Scott, do you honestly think I wanted to stay back at the dorm with Jackson? Come on, dude."
Scott laughed and took a sip from the red, plastic cup he had. "Do you mind if I go find Allison? She said she would be in the kitchen."
Stiles nodded quickly, "Go ahead. I would like to see you try to find the kitchen, though." Stiles watched as Scott swayed slightly on his mission to find Allison.
As Stiles looked around the living room of the sorority house, he didn't see anyone he knew or any girls that would catch his eye. He even stuck around for thirty minutes after Scott had ditched him for his dream girl, hoping to find someone worth talking to. None of the girls seemed interested, though, so he sent a text message to Scott saying he was heading home early. Even though Stiles had drank a few cups full of some nice beer (thanks, Allison), he was fine to walk back by himself.
He had made it to campus around midnight when he realized he hadn't looked at much of the place. He had seen the main building, their dorm, the cafeteria, and Isaac's dorm building. Other than that, Stiles felt like he had no idea what the campus could really hold for him. He knew heading to the rec center so late at night wasn't a good idea, it would probably be closed anyway. He thought for a minute before he remembered the library beside their dorm was open all night long.
Stiles made his way into the building, scanning his student I.D. card for access, and walked up to the top floor. He had seen large windows there from his dorm room, and they seemed to look out over the whole campus.
The top floor was beautiful, to say the least. The windows that stretched along the far wall gave the illusion of a wall of windows, looking out over the campus. Stiles could see the sky as well, the stars dimly shining. The light from the poles outside alone could have illuminated the room, but there were large, luxurious chandeliers hanging from the ceiling, above the desks in the center of the room. The whole space looked like shelves among shelves that weaved their way through the room like a maze, only leaving room for the twenty or so tables in the center. The wooden shelves complimented the dark wood of the walls, a kind of ethereal beauty, as if the room was some space created by the heavens. Stiles had never been one who loved being in a library, but he began to think that could change.
Before giving a quick glance to the rest of the room, he made his way toward the large bookshelf to his right and noticed it was full of fiction. Stiles traced his long fingers along the spines of the books as he passed each one. His eyes traced along each shelf, reading the titles as quickly as he could. So many of the books looked interesting to Stiles, but he knew that he wouldn't have much time for recreational reading once his classes started. He kept walking until he passed a book titled Room: A Novel, which he was sure he had heard someone recommend to him before. Stiles grabbed the book from the shelf and looked at the back cover. He flipped it over in his hands a few times before deciding the synopsis on the back deemed it worth reading. Stiles sighed and made his way back to the tables in the center of the room.
Stiles was sure he hadn't been behind the shelves for long, but when he came back he saw that Derek was sitting at one of the tables nearest the wall of windows. Stiles brow furrowed and he looked from Derek to the doors exiting to the lower floors. He wasn't sure if he and Derek were friends enough that it was okay to go sit with him.
What the hell, Stiles thought and walked over to the table Derek was busy reading at.
Stiles didn't greet his best friend's roommate, but he pulled out a chair and sat down. Derek placed his hand on the page where he was reading and looked up from under his eyelashes at the intruder of his personal space. Derek raised an eyebrow slightly before returning his head back down to the book. "Hey, Stiles."
For a moment, Stiles was actually unsure whether Derek had meant him. "Me?"
"Your name is Stiles," Derek replied, and Stiles could see the grin forming as the stubble on Derek's face rearranged itself to make room for the expression.
Stiles blinked and let out a shaky breath. "You're right," he smirked slightly. "What are you doing at the library so late? You should be at the dorm taking advantage of the time Scott and I aren't in there, we both know that won't be happening often," Stiles chuckled quietly and smiled Derek's way.
"That would be a good idea if your roommate, Jackson, wasn't terrorizing everyone on our floor because someone stole his razor while he was in the shower."
Stiles smiled wider. "That sounds like Jackson. You know, every time I see him, I dislike him a little less, but that might be me going crazy." Stiles was sure his dad had something to do with it, though.
Derek didn't reply right away, but he grabbed a piece of paper and stuck it between the pages of the book he was reading. "It was horrible. He even accused me of being your alliance and stealing it so you could continue to ruin his life."
"That sounds even more like him, if that's possible," Stiles laughed. Derek smiled at him gently and closed the book he had in his hands. "What are you reading?" Stiles asked, crooning his neck to look at the title.
Derek raised his eyebrows and made a face at the book. "Something Laura sent me. She passed through Arizona about a week ago and met some guy who apparently is into all of this spiritual healing stuff and she thinks it will help me stop being so 'grumpy'." Derek looked back at Stiles and shook his head. "Everywhere she goes, she finds something like this and sends it to me."
Stiles tilted his head and looked at the cover of the book. Its cover had a dove and a cliche romantic look. "The Gifts of Imperfection? Your sister must really want to kill you," Stiles laughed, leaning back in his chair and looking up at Derek.
The man in front of him nodded his head before he laughed loudly. "I know," he grinned Stiles's way, "she thinks I don't open up to her enough. The book's silly, but so is she. I like them, though, for some reason," he starts, looking down at the book delicately, "they just seem so much like her that it makes it harder for me to miss her. It's like she's right beside of me when I read these dumb books she sends."
Stiles rubbed his palms, which were sweating slightly now, along the fabric of his jeans. He averted Derek's eyes as he spoke, "That's how I feel when I read my mom's old cook books. She wrote down notes in the margins, like '¾ cup milk too much, try for ½ cup for easier setup.' It feels like she is there correcting me when I follow along with one of the book's instructions too much."
Derek's eyes had a gentle look about them when Stiles finally looked back at him. He clearly understood it was a delicate subject and turned the attention back to the books at hand. "What are you reading?"
Stiles's eyes widened and he peered at the book he had grabbed from the shelves, which was set in the middle of the table. "I have a friend, Isaac, who recommended it. He said I would like the writing style, so I figured why not try it out. I'll have to hurry and finish it before classes start, though. I'm pretty sure once they start, I'll have about zero time for myself."
Stiles bit the inside of his cheek as he realized that his eyes kept following Derek's hands, hands that were putting his book into a small bag he had set beside of his chair. "Same here. I've been questioning why I chose English since I first stepped foot on campus."
"Wait, you're majoring in English? I'm minoring in Linguistics, maybe we'll have classes together, besides the generals, of course. I have a feeling the general classes are going to be horrible," Stiles groaned, tapping his fingers on the table top. "There are so many people here, all of which seem to be models, you included."
Derek face scrunched up in amusement for a second. "You're right about the basics, but not about the model thing."
Stiles shook his head and pointed a finger slightly at Derek. "It's even worse when you people deny it, that just makes the attraction levels go higher."
Laughing, Derek grabbed his bag and placed it onto his shoulder before he stood. "You're in that same category, Stiles." He shook his head as he continued laughing, walking toward the door leading to the stairs. "See you later, Stiles."
Stiles hadn't moved since Derek had put the bag onto his shoulder, even his fingers had stopped tapping on the table. The look on his face read pure confusion as he looked down at the book that he had picked out. Not okay, Derek. Not fair, more importantly.
Stiles grabbed the book and stood. He headed to the wall of windows silently and looked down at the sidewalk underneath it. For a moment, Stiles saw nothing, but eventually Derek made his way onto the concrete paved path and headed toward their dorm building. Before he got too far, though, Derek turned back and grinned, throwing a wave to Stiles who stood behind the window.
Not fair.
