DUVET STAINS [STEREK]

Chapter Two: December

WAY DOWN WE GO [KALEO]

THE brightness of the sun filters in through the shades and Pager moves hair from his eyes, smiling small at me.

"Your brother seems to have developed a teensy crush on me."

"You don't say? I haven't seen him this whipped for anyone ever." I say, dipping a carrot into the ranch and popping it into my mouth. Pager blushes.

"Really? Now I feel bad. I won't be able to give him what he wants."

"You think he only wants sex?" I ask. Pager shakes his head and pokes at his sandwich.

"No, I just... what if I'm not good enough?"

"You're more than good enough, Pager Blossom Green." I say, chewing slowly. He pretends to be annoyed and bites into his sandwich. A hand claps over my shoulder and I jump, the sensations of fingers tightening around the muscle. I tense and turn, watching as Pager wipes his hands off on a napkin.

"So, you're into Mie, are you?" Daryl asks, leaning down towards my ear. I feel them turn rose.

"No." I say. "What makes you think that?"

He laughs. It's a loud laugh that makes me cringe as people look over. Daryl sits next to me, way too close, and I smile awkwardly.

"Snow, right?"

"What?" I ask.

"Is your last name Snow?"

"It's Hale." I say.

He shrugs. "Same thing. Hail or rain. Sun or snow. Not really my point here, Hale."

"And what exactly is your point? Scare all my friends away?"

Pager, Daryl, and I all whip our heads around at Stiles, who sits next to Pager and picks a leaf out of Pager's hair. He smiles and steals one of my carrots, chewing on it as he admires Pager's chiffon skirt.

"You look pretty."

Pager shakes his head with a bashful smile. "Oh my, thank you."

"Go away, Mie-Mie." Daryl says to Stiles. Stiles swallows.

"You go away. Tanya is looking for you, I hear."

Daryl's face pales and he gets up, walking away rapidly until he disappears out the door. Stiles laughs and steals another one of my carrots. I take one and dip it into the ranch slowly, trying to steady the shaking in my hands. Pager stands and I try to communicate with my eyes for him to stay as he rolls up his sandwich and brushes the crumbs off of his lap. His skirt sways behind him as he licks his lips and extends a manicured hand for Stiles, who takes it smiling.

"It was so wonderful to meet you, I'm Pager."

"Likewise! I'm Stiles." He greets. Pager touches his chin in thought and winks at me.

"See you back at the room, Derek."

He walks away, his heels final as he turns the corner. Stiles taps his hands on the table and blows air out of his nose.

"And then there were two."

"We should go see a movie."

He laughs, creasing his eyebrows. "Sure, man, what movie?"

I panic. "Uh, Oculus."

He shrugs. "Sure. Is this a group thing?"

"No." I say, palms sweating. He steals another carrot.

"Okay. When?"

I re-evaluate my calendar in my mind, zeroing in on my only free day. "Is Tuesday okay for you?"

He takes a bite out of the orange vegetable, nodding. "Okay," he takes his phone out and types something in before handing it to me. This is the moment of truth. I put my phone number in and hand it back, busying my mouth with a carrot when I'd rather busy it with something else. He sniffles lightly and occupies his phone for a moment before standing, too.

"I have to get to class. Ignore Dare, he's a huge rat and is too territorial for my own good. See you Tuesday, yeah?"

"Sure, I--uh, text me?"

He grins and walks away with a curt nod. I push the carrots away and stare at the iPhone with dread. And it began. Because if he didn't text me, that could mean he'd want me to text him, but he also could be busy. But if he wasn't busy, and he wanted me to text him first, I could be keeping him waiting. But what if that's what he wanted? Was he playing hard to get? Did he want me to crave for his attention. I got up from the table. I had work in half an hour, so that meant no phone until eight o'clock. And only then would I be so knackered I'd put it up anyway and get some sleep to repeat the day over again tomorrow. I find myself in the grain aisle of my job, staring at a can of peas, when it hits me.

If this were our first date, perhaps he would want to eat somewhere fancy. Maybe we should go to dinner first. But what if he eats ahead of time? This calls for a text message, I'd think. But what if he's in the middle of something and I just interrupted him? I think a phone call would be better, then. To alert him. I groan and stock the last of the peas. I was already overthinking and we'd met twice. How would I be later on? Surely, I'd become more comfortable around him. I get to the dorms at eight-thirty, where Stiles plays the same piece by Chopin (Google played a huge part in me figuring this out) in his room. I open the door to my room and walk in, setting my work bag down and nodding at Pager.

"Guess what." I say to Pager as the music gets louder in Stiles room.

"Wha?" He asks around a mouthful of Nutella. I kick my shoes off and grab my towel and bath necessities.

"I have a date with Stiles on Tuesday."

"Whoa, man!" Pager beams. "That's awesome! I'm so happy for you."

I giggle and kiss his cheek before making my way out the door with a large smile on my face. I take a quick shower, towel wrapped around my waist as I make my way back to the dorms. I freeze in front of Stiles' room door, guiltily hearing voices.

"Stiles, you can't keep locking the door every time this happens." Daryl says. Something loud crashes and Daryl curses.

"Why do I even bother with you?" Stiles whispers. I want to interfere. I want to ask if Daryl is putting Stiles in harms way, and if I should contact the Dean. I want to bang my fist on the door and invite Stiles into my room. I want to make sure he's okay. But before I can make up my mind, the Chopin song plays just as Stiles starts sniffling along with loud sobs muffled but fabric. Daryl shushes him softly and tells him it will be okay.

I wanted to know what was wrong, then. But I went into my room and went to my messages.

0 MESSAGES

I shut my phone off and lie back in the bed, darkness consuming me. The song ends for the third time tonight and the rustling of sheets are heard. Pager's digital clock reads 3am. I blink once and my phone buzzes on the nightstand. I grab it and read over the unknown numbers message five times.

UNKNOWN: [3:04am] did you know that Anthony Carrigan suffers from a type of Alopecia that worsened as he got older and lost most of his hair by his twenties. He eventually stopped trying to cover it up and began shaving his head.

Pager shifts in his bed and snores quietly.

DEREK: [3:05am] are you okay?

I fall asleep as the Chopin song begins to play again.

UNKNOWN: [4:39am] yes.