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It starts when Derek is sitting in study hall and the guy ahead of him–-Stiles something, the Polish kid with all the moles–-mutters, “Ugh, what’s sixty percent of fifty-five?”
“Thirty-three,” Derek says without having to think about it. He’s always been good at math.
“Oh, thanks, dude,” Stiles says. “I forgot my calculator, and Mr. Harris is a dick who won’t let me go get it.”
“No problem,” Derek says.
He assumes that’s it, that’s the end of the conversation, but Stiles catches up to him in the hall after class, scuffs his sneaker against the floor and says, "Hey, so, you’re really good at math. Like, you solved that in your head, right? No calculator?“
"Yeah,” Derek says, and Stiles bites his lip, asks, “Do you maybe wanna study with me later, in the library?”
- Part 4 of Tumblr fic