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Stiles is sure this whole thing is a bad idea. They're juniors in high school. Sticking a note in someone's locker is so middle school. Not that he ever did this type of thing, even then.
And yet, Scott has been insistent it's the only way.
"If you're not going to actually talk to Lydia and tell her you like her, you have to do something," Scott tells him. "We're graduating next year, man. You don't want to miss your chance."
It seems harmless enough. Certainly better than walking up to Lydia Martin and telling her he likes her in person. At least this way, she can't laugh directly to his face.
Plus, if he doesn't sign his name, it'll be fine.
Totally.
He takes a deep breath and looks at Scott. "Okay. I think it's done."
Scott takes the note from him and reads it over silently. It's the silence that gets to Stiles.
"Well? Is it that bad?"
"No! Scott hurries to say. This is good! It's just…."
"What?"
"It feels a little impersonal." Scott shrugs. "You didn't even put any names. You just put 'Dear you.'"
"Yeah, but I talked about her pretty hair and smile," Stiles says. "And how smart she is, even if she doesn't want anyone to notice."
"And you don't want her to know it's from you?"
"So she can make fun of me to the whole school? Yeah, no."
Scott frowns. "That won't happen, Stiles."
"You don't know that." He sighs and holds his hand out. "Look, just give it to me. This whole thing was a bad idea. I'll rip it up."
Scott jumps to his feet and holds the note high in the air. "No! You're doing this. And if you won't, I will!"
Stiles lunges at him, attempting to grab the letter, but Scott jumps away, and Stiles winds up in a heap on the floor.
"You'll thank me later!"
He's gone, disappearing into the crowd before Stiles can get to his feet. By the time Stiles reaches the lockers, it's too late. Scott's hands are empty, and he's sporting a triumphant smile.
"I hate you," Stiles mutters.
"No, you don't," Scott says and throws an arm across his shoulders. "And trust me, you'll thank me later."
"Can we go, at least? I'd rather not be here when she opens it."
Scott pouts. "No. You need to stay. Otherwise, you'll never know."
The choice is taken from him when a clack of heels sounds in the hall, heading in their direction.
Stiles watches as Lydia approaches her locker. He holds his breath as she puts in the combination and opens the door. Then nothing. At least nothing unusual. She puts her books away and grabs some others, then closes her locker and strides away.
Huh.
"Scott, are you sure you…?"
Stiles doesn't get to finish the sentence because, at that moment, a note falls out of the locker next to Lydia's.
"Oh shit," Scott whispers. "That's Derek Hale."
Stiles gulps. He's heard all about Derek Hale, senior and captain of the basketball team. They've never talked, though they've had a few classes together. Stiles is pretty sure Derek doesn't even know he exists.
Until now.
Because he's holding the note. The note Stiles wrote Lydia. His brows are furrowed as he reads it.
And Stiles is pretty sure he's going to die on the spot when Derek mutters. "Stiles?"
He turns to Scott with wide eyes. "What did you do?"
Scott rubs the back of his neck. "I uh… I may have put your name on it."
"You what?!"
"I thought I was helping!"
Stiles groans. "Oh my god."
He turns back to see Derek’s eyes now on him. They're narrowed in confusion, but Stiles can see the moment he puts the pieces together. "Stiles!"
Stiles runs.
He doesn't know why he runs. He could just stop and explain things. That would be the rational thing to do. But well, Stiles isn't exactly rational. And Derek Hale is hella intimidating.
He hears loud footsteps behind him but doesn't turn. He doesn't need to see Derek angrily chasing after him, probably ready to beat him up.
"Stiles! Damn it, Stilinski!"
Stiles skids to a stop next to his jeep and fumbles with his keys, which is, of course, when Derek catches up to him.
He puts a hand on Stiles' shoulder, and Stiles jumps and spins to face him, dropping his keys in the process. He holds up his hands in front of him. "Please don't kill me."
"So, this was some joke, then," Derek says.
"No, no," Stiles is quick to say. "It's uh… just a misunderstanding?"
"How so?"
"The note wasn't meant for you," Stiles says. He must be crazy because he thinks he sees Derek’s face fall before he schools his features. "My buddy, Scott, he just put the note in the wrong locker. It was meant for…."
"Lydia Martin," Derek guesses.
"Yeah," Stiles says. "How'd you know?"
Derek snorts. "Stiles, the whole school knows you've been obsessed with her since middle school."
Stiles deflates. "Oh."
"And her locker is right next to mine," Derek says. "So, I really should have known it was for her. I just…"
"What?"
"Nothing." Derek shakes his head. "You do know she's dating Jackson Whittemore, right?"
Stiles sighs. "Yeah, I know."
“And he probably would have beat your ass if he found out.”
“It wouldn’t be the first time,” Stiles mutters.
"Why stay hung up on someone that won't even give you the time of day?" Derek asks him. "You deserve better than that."
"Well, it's not like anyone else is lining up to date me," Stiles mumbles.
"Are you sure about that?" Derek asks him.
"Uh, yeah." Stiles frowns. "Wait. Do you know something?"
Derek smiles wryly. "Maybe more than you."
"What does that mean?"
"Just… let me know when you're over Lydia Martin, and we'll talk."
He walks away, leaving Stiles feeling more confused than ever.
It's strange. Before, Stiles would have sworn there would never be a time he'd be over Lydia. She's always been perfect in his eyes. Some unattainable thing. And maybe that's the problem.
It was never real.
And he supposes part of him always knew that. It was better to stay hung up on something, on someone, he could never have, than risk getting his heart broken by taking a chance at something real.
Scott catches up to him soon after Derek leaves, and Stiles is still there, staring at the spot he'd disappeared from.
"So, are you going to try again?" Scott asks him.
Stiles shakes his head. "No, I don't think I am. At least not with Lydia."
Because Stiles can't stop thinking about Derek’s words. He'd said the whole school knew that Stiles likes Lydia. Which includes Lydia herself. And yet she's always acted like she doesn't know he exists.
You deserve better than that.
And Stiles knows he's right. He does. And he thinks he knows exactly where to start.
This time he's the one to slip a note into the locker. After the last bell rings, he hangs back and watches as Derek walks to it and opens it. The note falls out, and Derek catches it quickly. He reads it and lifts his head, meeting Stiles' gaze.
Stiles waves, and Derek shoulders his backpack before walking over to join him. "If this is another mistake, you really need to work on your aim."
"That got exactly where it was supposed to," Stiles tells him.
"All it says is dinner," Derek points out.
Stiles shrugs. "You said to let you know when I was over Lydia, so here I am. Just a guy standing in front of someone he likes, asking him to dinner."
"You like me?"
"I do," Stiles says. "And I'd really like to get to know you better, if you'll let me."
"I'd like that too," Derek says. "And I'd love to have dinner with you."
Stiles grins. "Awesome. There's this new burger place I've been wanting to try."
“Oh yeah, the new one off of Main Street?”
Stiles nods. “Yeah, that’s the one.”
“I’ve been wanting to try it, too,” Derek tells him.
“Well, then, I guess we really do have perfect timing,” Stiles says.
“Guess we do.” Derek grins and holds out his hand. “You ready?”
Stiles smiles and slips his hand into Derek’s. It feels right. Solid. Real. And for the first time, that thought doesn’t scare him. He wants to see where this goes. “Yeah, I’m ready.”