Stiles headed into the main office with his backpack slung over his shoulder and a smile on his face. He held his transfer papers in his free hand while his other held on to his book-bag strap. He walked up to the counter where Ms. Shaw was typing away on her computer.
Stiles met her once before earlier in the semester. His current class was over packed and Mr. Hale's class had a spot available so to even things out he got moved into Mr. Hale's class mid semester. Ms. Shaw was the one to fix the population problem.
Stiles was in such a rush that day, worried about being changed from one class to another, worried about not being able to follow his new teacher's teachings that he didn't even pay attention to Ms. Shaw's appearance the first time they met.
Stiles took a moment to take her appearance in for the first. Ms. Shaw's looked a lot older than Stiles last remembered. Her face was full of wrinkles; she had wrinkles in the crease of her brown eyes, wrinkles on her forehead and wrinkles in the crease of her cheeks, she had blackish-gray hair that was up in a bun and she wore thick white glasses that over took most of her face.
Ms. Shaw stopped typing noticing Stiles was in the room and moved her thick old fashion glasses down her nose giving him a disapproving look.
"You should be in class young man." She lectured, as she gave her big white wrist watch a glance.
"Well, I'm currently without a first period. I'm transferring classes." Stiles stated proudly placing his transfer papers on the counter in front of Ms. Shaw.
She pushed her glasses back up her face as she looked the papers over.
"You have everything filled out, very nice. It's ashamed you missed the deadline for transfers." She claimed dryly, handing the papers back to a shock Stiles.
"What? Where does it say that?" Stiles asked, looking the papers over front to back before taking the extra step, turning them on their sides, scanning them over as if there was some small print he missed.
Ms. Shaw sighed annoyed.
"It's the standard rules here Mr. Stilinski. It's in your student conduct book, which you would have known if you had taken the liberty of reading it. The school gives you up until the end of your first semester to switch classes, after that, you stuck in the class you're in. The second semester has already started. Like I said you missed the deadline."
"There's got to be some way around this, I'm a great student. Couldn't you bend the rules just this once?" Stiles asked playfully, leaning against the counter trying his best to flirt with the older, stubborn woman.
Ms. Shaw gave Stiles a stern look that made him back away from the counter and gulp, feeling uneasy.
"Mr. Stilinski, I suggest you head to your morning class before you end up getting yourself in detention."
Stiles hesitated in his spot, trying to think of something to say, when nothing came to mind he did as told and left the room, unsatisfied and stressed.
"Anyone know the answer?" Derek called out to his students as the door to his class creaked open.
Everyone turned their attention to the open door including Mr. Hale. Stiles popped his head inside, noticing the class was in the middle of a conversation. Derek tensed up seeing him.
"Sorry I'm late, traffic was a mess today." Stiles announced to the class as a whole, heading over to his usual desk upfront.
He dropped his book bag on the hard surface, making a loud thud noise in the room.
"Stiles, can I see you outside for a moment?" Mr. Hale asked firmly, stopping Stiles in his tracks.
"Umm, sure." He replied, a bit taken back by his teacher's forwardness.
"Class start reading chapter 11, we'll be discussing it next." Derek said before closing the door behind Stiles and himself.
Derek let out a sigh and folded his arms to his chest clearly unhappy.
"Why are you in my class? You said you were transferring."
"Yeah, about that, there was a little misunderstanding in the main office. Apparently, Ms. Shaw won't let me drop your class." Stiles complained.
"Oh, that's just great." Derek voiced sarcastically, unfolding his arms, moving a hand up his forehead rubbing the skin in stress as he squeezed his eyes shut.
"Relax teach, I mean Derek." Stiles said with a smile, liking the way Mr. Hale's name sounded coming from his lips.
Derek opened his eyes and moved his arms to his sides before correcting Stiles.
"You mean Mr. Hale."
"Really, it's like that?" Stiles said playfully.
"You're STILL my student." Derek stressed.
"Hey, that doesn't mean we can't still play." Stiles said, making a suggestive look.
He reached out his hand to Mr. Hale's shirt, letting his fingers graze the material, feeling a portion of Derek's built chest underneath.
Derek grabbed Stiles hand removing it from his shirt.
"Actually, that's exactly what it means. Now, I want you to forget last night ever happen and act like a good little student." Derek demanded.
"Oh, come on." Stiles whined as Mr. Hale reopened the door to the classroom going back to the job at hand.
Derek might have been ready to throw in the towel but if there was one thing Stiles knew, was that he was not going to give up, at least not without a fight.
Note: Reviews please.
