“So,” says Sheriff Stilinski, raising one eyebrow. “You decided not to play video games at Scott’s, after all?” “Uh,” Stiles says. His eyes are wide and caught-out, and he’s got his arms wrapped around two giant tubs of popcorn. Beside him, Derek Hale—the same Derek Hale that the Sheriff last saw in his interrogation room—is handing a $20 bill to the cashier and clearly trying to appear as casual as possible. He fumbles the change three times before he gets it into his pocket, though, so it’s a lost cause.

The thing about gymnastics is that it's a lot of work. And time. And busted muscles, And calluses everywhere. (Yes. Even there.) And having no social life whatsoever. All that for the distinction of being really good at gymnastics. Which does not exactly bolster Stiles's already tenuous masculinity.