Baking My Way Into Your Heart

6 - Integrate

Baking My Way Into Your Heart - Integrate

Derek was currently roaming around a bookstore, trying to locate its psychology section. He needed to pick up a book for one of his classes. Once he found the right shelf, he easily spotted the required reading and tucked it under his arm. As he was walking over to where the registers were, another book caught his eye. Derek picked it up, flipping through the pages.

It was a cookbook. More specifically, it was a dessert cookbook. On every page was a picture of the dish it described; its instructions on the opposite page. Derek looked at a picture of red-velvet cupcakes with a cream cheese frosting. 'I wonder if Stiles can make that…' He skimmed through a few more pages, pausing at a picture of coffee-crumb cakes. He wondered if Stiles knew how to make that too.

Derek decided that getting the book wouldn't hurt. He could give it to Stiles and maybe Stiles could try out some of the recipes he found in it. He tucked it under his arm with his psychology book, heading to the registers once more. But then, something else caught his eye. Soon, Derek found himself in the cooking section of the store. He picked up one book, leafed through the pages, liked what he saw, and then added it to his pile. He found another book, thumbed through it, liked what he saw, and then added that one as well. He did this three more times before he felt he sufficiently went through all the relevant cookbooks related to desserts and pastries. He finally went up to the register, not even caring that what should have been a fifteen dollar purchase turned out to be almost seven times that. Actually, it didn't even really occur to him what he had done until he was safely back in his home, after scrounging up something for dinner, and setting the bag of books down at his desk.

Derek blanched. 'What did I just do?' He emptied out the bag, strewing its contents over the tabletop. There, staring up at him was one psychology book and six different cookbooks. Six.

'Oh my God,' Derek reached into his back pocket, pulling out his wallet with the receipt from the bookstore. 'Oh my God.'

He looked at his watch. It was already getting pretty late and Derek didn't think he could make it to the store before closing, even if he took his car. Derek sat down, burying his head in his hands, tugging at his hair.

'It's fine. I can just return them tomorrow. I'll go back after classes and just return them. It'll be fine.' He exhaled, feeling himself relax. He took a few deep breaths before deciding to continue his schoolwork. Derek pulled his psychology book over to him, flipping it open. He grabbed a pen and some sticky notes so that he could make notes in it while reading.

Derek lost himself in his studying for the next hour or so. He had already read well into the recommended reading, so he soon found himself getting distracted. He kept glancing at one of the cookbooks, still sitting messily on his desktop. He tapped his pen against his lip. Giving in, he pulled the book to him, flipping it open.

The next morning, Derek finished up his routine before packing up his school stuff. He shoved his psychology book into his satchel, setting it by the door so he could grab it on his way out. And then, Derek froze.

'Oh no…' he groaned. Derek rushed back to his desk. He remembered now. After finishing with his psychology book, he had picked up one of the cookbooks. And marked it. He flipped it open to one of the tagged pages. There was writing on the margins. In pen. 'Oh my God!' Derek screamed to himself.

He had made comments. He made little notes in the margins asking if Stiles knew how to make this or that. There were even little doodles of caricatured lemons on various pages. His eyes trailed over to the other books on the desk. 'You have got to be kidding me…' All six of them had tags sticking out. Derek dropped the book in his hands, grabbing another one and throwing it open. Surely he couldn't have made notes in all of them. But, sure enough, there were little notes in his handwriting. He dropped it and picked up another. Then another. All six of them were marked up. In pen.