A/N I know I haven't posted anything in a really long while, and I'm sorry to anyone who's been following my other fanfiction, Love Kills. I guess if I were a good author I would be publishing a chapter for that, instead of a brand new one-shot, but anyone who still reads that story knows the truth. I'm a horrible author when it comes to keeping updated :P Heh...sorry, again, but I hope you enjoy this one!

Disclaimer: I don't own Darkest Powers.

Derek's P.O.V

I'm good at science. I knew that. Math is my forte. Might as well be written in the sky with permanent marker. The point, however, is that nobody's really pointed out to me what I suck at- except my teachers, and, of course, Chloe. To me, it's perfectly obvious what my weak point is. English. And no, I don't go around speaking caveman, contrary to popular belief. I just have a hard time getting my creative ideas flowing. And for those of you who can't empathize, let me simplify; I have no problem writing non-fiction; Although it's not something I do very often- or at all, really- I could sit around and talk about a factual topic that I enjoy for as long as you'd let me, and writing it down on paper doesn't exactly take a rocket scientist. It's fiction that gets to me. Maybe because I have a life. You know, other than sitting around all day and spewing random nonsense about the heart-throb vampire and hot werewolf falling head over heels in love with a girl and doing everything necessary to protect her.

What I just don't understand is why. It doesn't make sense. Heart-throb vampire who sparkles in the sun? Unrealistic. Even more so is the hot werewolf, because, really, have you met me? Or any werewolf, for that matter? Because I guarantee you, if you do, they'll either be horrendously hideous or willing to rip you apart limb by limb just to hear you scream. Most likely both. The only relatable thing in that specific work of fiction is the 'doing anything to protect her' part, but even that is exponentially overdone. If a car is speeding towards someone you love, what would you do? Pull him/her out of the way or step in front of it and pray to God that your strength is enough to stop a moving vehicle before it crushes the life out of you and said endangered person? Because it's a no-brainer to me. And Chloe's still alive, isn't she?

Anyway, the point is that I suck at fiction. What can I say? I'm logical, not creative. And that's not just an excuse, because basic human neurology says that the left side of your brain deals with logic, so most – if not all - of the world's right-handed population would have a more logically active (rather than creatively active) brain. Needless to say, I'm right-handed.

But, apparently, none of that matters to a teacher. Unless you're trying to earn yourself extra assignments and/or detention, in which case, I strongly suggest you repeat the previous paragraph word for word, starting directly after the 'What can I say'. Because it works.

"Derek?" Chloe asked from the doorway, peering over me.

"What?" I snapped.

"What're you doing?" she questioned, making her way towards the couch where I was seated.

"Frolicking in a wonderful land of sunshine, lollipops, and rainbows." I muttered dryly. "On a unicorn that stops every now and again to barf up some skittles."

She gave a small laugh that immediately lightened my mood. I glanced at her, offering a small smile as an apology for my sarcasm. She grinned, scooting over so that she could rest her head on my shoulder and effectively read the screen at the same time. Her eyebrows furrowed as she read, and eventually she looked up at me, chewing on her lip.

"What...what's that?"

I groaned, burying my face in my hands.

"A fictional narrative of an important event that happened in a character's life. Supposedly."

Her eyes widened as she realised it was for school, but even the moment of surprise didn't stop her lips from tugging upwards into a smile.

"You're writing about Edward Cullen?"

I felt a bit of heat rise to my face, but forced a scowl on.

"I don't read fiction. He's the only character I could think of."

She gave another tinkling laugh at my expression before sobering up again.

"Well, I hate to break it to you, but you wrote an essay."

My scowl deepened as I realised she meant that as something bad.

"And?"

"And, you're supposed to be writing a fictional narrative."

"What's the difference?"

She beamed, probably happy that she knew something I didn't.

"Well, smart guy, the difference is that an essay is formal and non-fictional. A narrative is a story. The formatting is different and..." She trailed off upon seeing my blank look, and peered at the screen again. "And I don't think describing physics and calling it 'Edward Cullen's First Physics Class' counts as a story."

I groaned again, and she sighed, finally taking some pity on me.

"Here. Maybe I can help you."

I looked at her. "Can't you just write the...thing?"

"Fictional narrative, and no."

"Then how do you expect to help?"

She shrugged. "Same way you help with my math, I guess. You're not doing well because you don't like it."

"Helpful."

"And you can't get into it."

"Really? I didn't know that. But hey, now that I do, I can definitely write a fictional narrative."

She glared at me. "You can't possibly be saying you've never read a fictional book."

I shook my head. "Not that I can remember."

"How about a movie?"

"Huh?"

"Have you ever watched a movie?"

I shot her an incredulous look. "Obviously."

"Well, what movie?"

"Chloe, I don't see how this is-"

"Just name one. Your favourite."

I sighed, seeing she was bent on getting an answer.

"Uh...Star Wars?"

She looked at me, examined my face and snorted.

"Yeah, right. And I'm totally in love with romantic comedies."

I blushed again, annoyed that she could make me do that.

"Fine." I snapped. "I like beautyandthebeast."

I jumbled the words together, making them sound like one.

"What?" she questioned.

I sighed. "I like Beauty and the Beast."

She glanced up at me incredulously, eyebrows raised. "Really?"

"Yeah," I mumbled, feeling exceptionally stupid. "It reminds me of us."

Her lips pulled into a grin, her eyes compassionate.

"Then write about that."

I scowled at her. "I'm not handing in a narrative from Belle's point of view."

She rolled her eyes. "Then do it from the beast's. Write about when the evil witch turned him into a monster." Her eyes found mine, and her grin grew. "Just imagine you're writing about Tori."

I thought about it for a while, chewing it over in my head. Honestly, it was about as close to non-fiction as I could get. And it would be, admittedly, pretty fun to write. The more I mulled it over, the better it sounded, and eventually, I couldn't stop the goofy grin from working its way onto my face. Chloe saw, of course, and her eyes lit up.

"I like it when you smile." She told me. "You should stop brooding so much."

I laughed, but rolled my eyes anyway. "I don't brood."

"Whatever. Just write."

She started to get up, but I quickly stopped her, wrapping my arm around her waist and tugging her back down gently.

"Wait. Thank you."

She smiled. "No problem. But, just so you know, if you get higher than a B, you owe me."

My grin grew and I let go of her waist. She walked over to the door, pausing at the doorway to offer me a smirk.

"And Derek?"

"Hmm?"

"Don't delete the Edward Cullen one. I like it."

A/N Okay, so I'll admit that the whole 'Beauty and the Beast' thing for Chlerek is getting slightlyoverused, but I find it matches perfectly, especially from Derek's POV, and I couldn't help adding it in this story :D Also, just thought I'd spread the word; I found this really cool contest for aspiring authors, so if anyone's interested, just check out .com
Don't forget to review :)