How to be Cool

Lesson #5: get cooler friends

"Derek, this is one of the easiest concepts in calculus!" I yelled, wishing I could smack him in the head. I thought we were getting somewhere, but he must have gotten hit in the head at football or something, because it was like he just completely forgot everything we studied two days ago. "Do you ever listen to me, you big oaf?" I teased, shoving him playfully. We were laying on his bed on our stomachs, his calculus laid out in front of us. We usually studied this way. Derek said it was comfortable, and if he was comfortable, he learned better. 

He scoffed, shoving his book away. "What did you just call me?" he asked, his voice low. I was about to defend myself, but he was quicker and had me in a headlock before I could get a word out. He was freaking pinning me down like we were on a wrestling mat, which wasn't fair. 

"Ow! Derek, I don't wrestle, this is cheating!" I complained, trying to wriggle out of his grasp. He only put more of his weight on me, which sucked, because I was so tiny compared to him. "Okay, I give up!" I tried, laying my head down on the bed in defeat. I was getting used to all of this touching that Derek liked to do. It didn't bother me, but it was odd. I was starting to feel like we were actually friends. 

"Okay," Derek sighed, starting to lift his weight from off my small frame. I took that as my chance to get him back, tackling him to the mattress. At first, he laughed, but then his laughter turned into a cry of pain. "Ouch, okay, get off," he grumbled, shoving me to the side. He rolled back over on his stomach, burying his face in his arms as he took deep breaths. 

I felt horrible that I had somehow hurt him, even though I wasn't really sure how. "Was that my fault? Did I hurt you?" I asked, worriedly. I sat up on my knees, watching him intently as he just sat there in pain. "Derek, talk to me? What did I do?"

He turned his head to look at me, letting out a weak laugh. "Not your fault, Stiles," he assured me, reaching over to put his hand on my knee. "I got hit hard at practice yesterday. My back has been killing me since then." He moved his hand back underneath his head, but kept his eyes on me, his face thoughtful. 

"Oh," I mumbled, still feeling a little guilty. I suddenly had this super weird thought and I tried to push it away, but eventually, I sighed. It wasn't gay for me to want to help out a friend in pain, right? No, it wasn't. Derek was helping me get a girlfriend, but he had to teach me how to play sports in order to do that. He couldn't help me like this. "Wh-Where does it hurt?" I wondered, trying not to sound as nervous as I was. I was about to offer Derek Hale, the most popular guy at school, a back rub. I must have been out of my freaking mind.

"Everywhere," he sighed, his face buried in his arms again. "Specifically though, up here," he pointed, gesturing to his shoulders. "Why, you gonna rub it?" he teased, though he really was just joking. I was serious though. I really would do it, if he wanted me to. 

"Well, uh-" I mumbled, losing my words. Why were my hands sweating? "If it hurts, I can try to help," I offered, looking away from his curious eyes. 

He chuckled a little, and I didn't want to call him cute, but with his cheek smashed against his arm and that breathy laugh. . . he was cute. And I sounded super gay, which was NOT cool. I was trying to get a girlfriend, not come off as gay. "Okay, that would be great," he agreed. "But only if you want to. I don't want you to feel uncomfortable, or anything."