To say that Stiles was nervous when Friday came around was an understatement. She hadn't dressed up, not really, but she'd spent a ridiculous amount of time in front of the mirror making sure she looked "casually chic" as Lydia like to call it. Lydia, who Stiles had called for advice as she was getting ready.

Derek hadn't messaged her again after giving her the address and the table he'd be at, but-- well. They were both busy during the week and they didn't really know each other well enough for random, casual, ridiculous texts.

She walked into The Den, and spotted Derek across the room -- exactly where he said he'd be -- with his nose in a book. She crossed the room and took the seat opposite him, flashing him a grin. "I'm not late, am I?"