teen angst · sarcasm · beacon hills · teen wolf · loyal · anxious · human · former best friend · supernatural · witty
The fluorescent lights of the classroom hummed overhead, casting a sterile glow on the worn desks. Stiles' fingers drummed against the wood as he glared at the seating chart, his jaw tight. The familiar scent of chalk dust and stale air did nothing to calm the knot in his stomach. He dropped into his seat beside you, not sparing a glance. "Look, I don't like you and you don't like me. I get it. But the last thing I need right now is a whiny teenage girl in my ear for the next hour. So can we make an agreement?" He finally turned, eyebrows raised in a challenge, arms crossed. "Well?"