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Going across the country to college had been Stiles’ dream since the time he realized there was a world beyond the borders of Beacon Hills. His mom used to bring him college brochures from the counselor’s office, and he’d tear out the prettiest pictures and hang them on his walls. When he was ten, his mother had bought him a map, and they started putting pins where all the images he hung had been taken.
After she passed away, Stiles had taken everything down and thrown them away. He found out later that his dad had pulled everything out of the trash and put them in a box in the attic in case Stiles regretted his rash decision to get rid of them. Which he did the first time his counselor asked where he was considering applying for college.
The map and photos went back up. As Stiles put the pins in, he used different colors. He would research each school. Red pins were schools he knew were out of his price range, even with scholarships and financial aid. Green were the schools where he would definitely apply. And the blue pins meant they had pretty pictures but no programs of study which interested him.
Scott complained when he came by and found Stiles putting everything back up, asking why Stiles wanted to go so far away. “It’s what my mom wanted,” Stiles said, smiling as he put a green pin in New York City for NYU. He remembered his mother telling stories about living there when she was younger and how much she loved it. He would have to ask Derek about his time there if he’d gone to any of the same places his mother had gone.
He’d ask Derek the next time he saw him, but the man had been acting strangely lately. Every time the pack got together, Derek seemed to have something to do on the other side of the room from Stiles. He knew things had been strange around the preserve, but usually, Derek came to Stiles for help. They’d gotten to the point where Stiles had been comfortable calling them friends, and Derek never objected to the title. Lately, though, Derek spent more time with Danny and Lydia. Stiles frowned at how much that bothered him.
One night, about a week after he’d gotten the map back up, Stiles sat at his computer, an application to NYU open in front of him. He read the essay questions aloud to himself, “Why NYU? We would like to know more about your interest in NYU. What motivated you to apply to NYU? Why have you applied or expressed interest in a particular campus, school, college, program, and/or area of study? If you have applied to more than one, please also tell us why you are interested in these additional areas of study or campuses. We want to understand – Why NYU? 400-word maximum.” Stiles gaped. “Maximum? I can’t even introduce myself with fewer words than that.”
A thud behind him had Stiles whirling around in his desk chair and falling to the ground from the momentum when he tried to stop himself. An amused chuckle had him lifting one finger in the air, increasing the laugh to a near guffaw. Pushing himself up, Stiles glared at Derek, who stood just inside his window, the backpack strap over one shoulder and his eyes sparkling in the setting sunlight.
“Something I can help you with?” he asked. “I guess Danny and Lydia were too busy for you.”
Derek frowned, his eyebrows drawing together into nearly a straight line. He set the backpack down on Stiles’ bed and opened it, pulling out a handful of college brochures. Stiles noticed colored tags sticking out of the top. He set them down on the bed and settled next to them, all while Stiles stared at him.
“I want to go back to college,” Derek said, moving the brochures to his lap and staring down at them. Stiles tried dropping down onto his desk chair. It rolled away, and he ended up sprawled on the floor again, gaping up at Derek. “I never finished my degree.”
“And suddenly you do? Why not ask Lydia or Danny?” Stiles asked, still feeling the sting. Derek fanned out the brochures so that Stiles could see them. He looked from the stack to the map on the wall. Each and every green pin was represented. “What is this?”
“The schools I am considering,” Derek responded, finally looking up Stiles. He swallowed and opened his mouth before snapping it closed again.
“And it’s just a coincidence they are the same ones where I’m applying?” Stiles asked, reaching out and tapping each brochure as he spoke. “One is an incident, two is a coincidence, three's a pattern, and four is enough for a warrant.”
“Is not wanting to be far from you an arrestable offense?” Derek asked, his voice so quiet that Stiles almost missed it.
Surprisingly, his father, passing by, did not. “It is if he’s under eighteen or doesn’t want you there.” He looked at Stiles, who kept looking between Derek, his dad, and the wall. “Who am I kidding? As long as he’s eighteen.” He smirked when Stiles squawked, and Derek’s ears turned red. “Although, distance does make the heart grow fonder. Although, I'm not sure how that works with ‘wolves.” With that comment, he walked away.
Derek and Stiles stared at each other. “So, you decided to go back to college to stay near me?” Derek shrugged. Stiles smiled to himself and crawled over to the bed, leaning against Derek’s legs. “So, are you living on campus with me or getting an apartment?”
Derek knocked his knee against Stiles’ shoulder. “Let’s figure out where we’re going before we figure out where we’re living.” Stiles raised his eyebrows, and Derek smirked. “You said I wanted to stay close to you.”
“I guess living together would be pretty close,” Stiles said, smiling as he reached over his shoulder for the first of Derek’s brochures, relieved that the literal and figurative distance between them wasn’t going to be great.