Summuary: Stiles is a dumb lovesick with awful friends and a song starts playing on the radio. One of those stupid catchy songs that stay in your head for weeks. God, he hates those songs. AU

Because of that terrible song

Stiles looks at the next table, then looks at his empty hands.

Looks at Tall Dark and Mysterious and then looks away.

Sex on a stick.

Hands.

All kind of hotness.

Infinite loneliness.

He lets out a deep sigh.

"Come on Stiles, talk to him." Allison says with a comforting smile.

He sighs again.

"Seriously dude, what do you have to lose?" Scott starts. "What if he rejects you? No big deal, man. It's just one more heartbreak, you can - Ouch! Allison!" He massages his ribs, mumbling. Lowering his eyes as his girlfriend glowers at him.

Stiles just glances at him. Sometimes, he wonders why he's even friend with this moron. What can't he have a nice supporting best friend? Why can't he have nice things? Why does he always have to fall for people so out of his league? First Lydia, gorgeous, smart… Terrible crush from third grade to high school. Went nowhere. Well, they are friends now. Kind of. Now and then, he doubts she even likes him.

Now Derek, a total stranger that he met at the café they're currently at. Derek who has dark wild hair, rocks the leather jacket, has the most incredible hazel eyes he ever seen and a sexy frown that makes him melt from hair to toes. Derek who he learnt the name when he – not so accidentally - bump into him, making fall of all his stuff including his - Oh! – library card. Derek who is a much older dude! Stiles didn't even know he was into guys until he woke up sweaty and hard after a dream featuring himself and Derek in a compromising position. He is so doomed. He doesn't sleep, he doesn't eat, there is no more joy in his life except at the sight of Derek and there isn't even a slight chance Derek is ever going to be interested. This deserves a big FML.

Really, someone must have cursed him! There's no way one can meet so much bad luck in such a short life time! Stiles knew Scott and him shouldn't have gone and tease that witch at the carnival when they were thirteen. There is no other possible explanation. It had to be her! That nasty hag!

Jackson chuckles when Stiles moans desperately, burying his head between his arms.

"You're so pathetic. You should just go and get rejected already so you can move on and actually do something with your life…" He declares before sipping at his Americano. "Or at least try, because your case is pretty hopeless."

Stiles is about to counter but Lydia talks first.

"He's right Stiles. Maybe it's the only way for you to be able to forget him. I don't know I've never been rejected or dumped…" She flips her hair back. "But that's why other girls say. And movies."

"Come on man, go!"

"Just go."

"Stiles move that coward ass, and go talk to that Adonis or I will. And I never get rejected."

"Stiles you're cute. You have nothing to be afraid of."

"GO." They say all together and he's thrown out of his chair.

He stumbles to get back on his feet.

Maybe they're right, he thinks, maybe I just need a good rejection and I will be able to get my life back. Yes, he's the kind of guy who needs a nice punch in the guts to understand. His dad often says so... He's a freacking man, goddammit! Come on Stiles, you can do this…

A song starts playing on the radio, one of those stupid catchy songs that stay in your head for weeks. God, he hates those songs.

He slowly walks to table Derek's at, breaths heavy. The table seems miles away.

When he's finally arrived, Derek raises his eyes from the book he was reading.

"Yes?" He asks.

He's even more gorgeous from closer. He's never going to be able to do this. Someone shoot him right now. He breaths hard again. Inhales. Exhales… Where the fuck is his inhaler?

Derek keeps staring at him.

The girl at the radio keeps singing about a wish she made, a guy she met, a guy she gave her number to…

The words blurt out without his consent. He's paralyzed. Can't think. All he can do is reciting the lyrics as the chorus begins.

Hey, I just met you,

And this is crazy,

But here's my number,

So, call me maybe?

Oh my god. Oh my god. Oh my god. Stiles wants to throw his face against a wall. Repeatedly. He can feel his friends staring at them as well as the rest of the – thank god! – barely empty café. He can ear Jackson dying from laughter and his heart beating furiously in his chest.

Derek just blinks at him, his mouth slightly opened. He looks like a fish discovering television. It's the first time Stiles sees him with such an expression and he wonders - oh god why - it had to happen because of his epic humiliation.

"Oh my god, someone give the poor boy a pen!" A woman shouts next to him and Stiles doesn't even have the courage to look at her.

Scott is suddenly at his side, forcefully putting a pen in his hand. He whispers a little "Go, bro!" before walking back to their table.

Oh. My. God.

He takes one of Derek's yellow napkins and quickly writes his name and number on it.

"So, call me. Not that you have to but I'd deeply enjoy you doing it. Not that you have to please me in anyway – but I'd like you to, you know, please me. Oh my god, that sounded so wrong. I- I didn't mean in a sexual way. Not that you're not attractive. You're plenty of attractive and I wouldn't mind you to do things. With me. I'm - I'm not objectifying you or anything! Oh my god, I'm so sorry! Please don't hurt me."

He doesn't get to see Derek reaction because his friends grab him and lead him out of the café before he can make more a fool of himself.

Oh. My. Gooooooood.

Later that day his phone rings.

"Hey. Hum. Stiles. You gave me your number today. So, I – hum – called."

And Stiles thanks God, Allah, Buddha, Jesus and even that evil witch for putting such a glorious fate on him.

And, of course, Carly Rae Jepsen.

FIN

All rights to Carly Rae Jepsen for the lyrics. It was, of course, Call Me Maybe.