Sterek Shorts

New Guy

"Did you guys see the new kid?" Lydia asked, her fingers moving through her hair. "He looks like someone straight out of a movie."

Alison laughed, her arm linked with Scott. "Yeah, total dream boat."

Her comment caused Scott to side eye her. Jealousy was written all over his face, but nothing serious. He immediately went to looking around the bustling halls for this mystery man.

Stiles, on the other hand, raised his arms, flexing. "I don't know guy, it's pretty hard to beat this handsome devil right here." He flashed a smirk that made his small group laugh.

He dropped his arms, rolling his eyes. "Yeah, yeah, laugh it up- but when I'm strolling into next year with babes in each arm, you'll regret today."

"The only thing I'm going to regret about today is letting myself be seen by you while you wear...'that'." Lydia shot back, waving her hand in front of Stiles, gesturing to his outfit.

Stiles looked down at this clothes. The same shoes he's worn since freshman year. Normal jeans that have gotten scuffed up during some fights. A graphic tee that is covered by an open button up. "What's wrong with what I'm wearing?"

"Stiles, man," Scott started, letting go of Addison's arm and slapping Stiles on the shoulder. "You've had the same style since middle school. Why don't you agree to let Lydia fancy you up?"

"Because, Scott," Stiles said with dramatic emphasis. "I dress for me and only me."

"We can tell," Addison snickered.

"And! I don't need anyone dressing me. I'm not a kid anymore."

"Could've fooled me." She added again.

"Scott-" Stiles looked at Addison, pointing her down. "Control your woman."

Their banter continued all throughout the passing time. Once the bell rang, announcing just how late all four of them were, they made sure to really rub in their annoyance to Stiles, blaming him for their tardiness. Stating, he talked too much and it cost them valuable time.

He simply played it off and skipped steps on his way to the second floor as the others walked away.

He nearly fell through the door as he walked into the science room. His fellow classmates hardly batted an eye, this was normal behavior. And, like normal, the teacher sighed with a shake of their head.

"Glad you could join us, Mr. Stanlinski."

"Pleasure to be here, sir." Stiles saluted, sitting down in his assigned seat, hardly noticing the form hunched over the desk beside him.

"Right. Back to it-," the teacher clapped his hands together, standing up to proceed with the lesson, going on and on about elements, density, materials, and more boring scientific topics.

It didn't take long before Stiles was bored enough to be creating up more entertaining things. As everyone followed the teachers instructions, Stiles decided to take the experiment into his own hands.

Taking a vial from here, a beaker there, a tablet over yonder, and even a bit of a flame below, the glass cup shattered. Mixing each ingredient with incorrect order and measurements caused shards to disperse while a plume of smoke ruffled Stiles hair.

His table mate shot up in response while everyone else looked at them. Stiles opened his eyes, every crease on his face stuck out like a sore thumb in the ashy substance on his face.

He didn't need to look up, he pointed to the door. "Office- you got it."

His teacher grumbled angrily as he got a broom while he made his exit. Grabbing his back pack and turning away, he couldn't help but look just to make sure his table mate didn't get caught by any of the glass.