A/N: Go frequent updates. Btw, Derek and Casey are seventeen years of age in this. Juniors.
Chapter 2:
Saturday night, 11:35PM:
"Okay Derek, hit the music."
Derek pressed the little silver button on pre-done iTunes play list. Music surged through his speakers; just low enough not to wake up Lizzie, Edwin, and Marti. But loud enough for Derek and Casey to become one with the music.
Derek rose from his computer chair as Casey walked up to him. "I still can't believe I'm still giving you fast dance lessons. I figured you would have begged to stop when I put on Numa Numa last weekend. Okay. Ready?"
Derek kicked some of his clothes, comics, and CDs under the bed. "Yes. Definitely."
Lyrics filtered through Derek's computer speakers, as Derek followed Casey's moves (although much slower).
His palms are sweaty, knees weak, arms are heavy
There's vomit on his sweater already, mom's spaghetti
He's nervous, but on the surface he looks calm and ready
Lose Yourself was a mutually agreed upon song for Derek's fast dance lessons. For the past month, Casey had been working with Derek. She had taught him a basic routine with moves he could mix and match up for any party. Derek had wanted to quit at first, but hit his stride around two weeks ago. Casey had developed dance lessons akin to Simon Says. She would complete a minor body movement, and Derek would repeat as best as he could. If Derek had a bit of trouble on something, she would take a bit of extra time on that move.
To drop bombs, but he keeps on forgettin'
What he wrote down, the whole crowd goes loud
He opens his mouth, but the words won't come out.
Casey looked back at Derek as she stood in front of him performing. Not only was she decked out in her pajamas, but hiding underneath the flare legs of her pajama pants were her jazz sneakers. She wouldn't dance without them. Casey did a new arm movement, and Derek just watched.
"Want to try that tonight?"
Derek attempted to move his arms flawlessly like Casey, but ended up flailing around in a mismatched blur. Casey laughed at his try and walked over to him. He had an extraordinarily hard time with fast dancing. He barely could keep any body parts in sync with one another, but he tried faithfully every couple weekdays to copy her. She could only respect the guy.
"No, no. Like this," she grasped his arms firmly with her hands.
When he goes back to his mobile home, that's when it's
Back to the lab again, yo
This whole rhapsody
He better go capture the moment and hope it don't pass him
As Casey grasped his arms, her chest was against his shoulders. Derek fidgeted ever so slightly. Casey carefully moved his arms in circular motions to the beat. "Like this, but make it sweep over a bit more though. Okay?"
You better lose yourself in the music, the moment
You own it, you better never let it go
You only get one shot, do not miss your chance to blow
This opportunity comes once in a life time
He swallowed. "...Show me one more time?"
Casey chuckled and switched her positions, and stood directly in front of Derek. "Okay. Think of it this way. You "rip up records" or "scratch them", whatever sort of terminology you use these days..."
Derek laughed, surprised she has noticed him occasionally DJ-ing at select parties. She grabbed his hands. "Do that same motion, but add the earlier move. It adds something to it."
He made a second attempt, with Casey applauding afterwards. "There you go. You're progressing quite well."
Derek smiled. "Yep, not too bad. Now hopefully, I can dance with some hotties at the next party."
Casey stepped briskly towards Derek's computer and cut the music. "By "hotties", I'm sure you mean young women with "looser" moral values."
"Casey, Casey, Casey. What sort of guy do you think I am?"
She frowned. "Something to be discussed when we have an entire day. I need to be in bed by 12:15. I need to color coat my flash cards before I sleep, also."
Derek studied Casey for a moment. "Color coated flash cards? Having flash cards or any sort of study material is bad enough, but color coated? Loosen up a bit. You should chills, like I do. And face it, that method has made me into who I am today. You're too much of a super keener, Casey."
He was getting cocky. She gave him her best glare. "Would a super keener do this?"
The girl gave Derek a sharp jab in the rib cage. Derek slowly stepped closer towards her, looking seemingly cockier, with every step. Casey backed up farther and farther away from Derek, until she ran out of floor, and her legs hit his bed.
"You should not have done that Macdonald."
He tackled her to his bed; and they landed on his blankets, pillows, clothes, and hockey gear, everywhere and askew. Casey knew she couldn't yell as she would wake up the Venturi/Macdonald clan, so she softly squealed instead. That was just enough to egg Derek on further. Casey was pinned down, lying on her back. Derek was on top of her, facing her and hanging off the bed. He tugged at her hair, bringing about another round of squeals. He stopped for a moment.
"Really though, Casey. Haven't you ever just wanted to cut loose? ...Live a little dangerously?"
She pushed him up. "We'll do my lesson tomorrow night. I really should get working on those flash cards."
Derek watched Casey leave, thinking that just 3 and a half minutes ago they were dancing to Eminem. Just 3 and a half minutes ago, her hands were clutching his hands and arms. And he liked it. He had liked it very much. He gave the quiet and empty room a half smile. He grabbed his iPod, pulled on his headphones, lay down on his bed, and put on a certain play list.
While Derek would never tell anyone...he loved to listen to Classical music. Classical cleared his mind so well. He was always a new person, after listening to Brahms. He loved how Classical seemed to tell any sort of story he would like it to tell. It was a dirty secret of sorts for him. From Bach to Mozart, he had just about it all. But tonight, tonight was a Beethoven night. He let his mind drift. A scene was beginning to play out in his head, just as it always did upon listening to Classical. But this time, this time a girl was in the picture.
A certain girl that drove him insane. He craved that insanity more then anything, and thrived on it. In his mind, in his story, he had that had jabbed him in the ribs. Then he saw himself proceed to pin the girl down, onto the very bed he was on now. The girl was incessantly squealing. The girl's baby blanket blue eyes were fixated on his own Hershey brown, as the piano keys reached perfection.
Sunday, 12:09AM:
Casey retreated back to her sanctuary; back to her room with plastic storage bins, carefully placed posters, and a made bed with throw pillows. Casey slipped off her jazz shoes. She didn't go straight to color coating her flash card system, as she would have earlier. Instead, she grabbed her iPod, put on her ear buds, and hit shuffle.
She plopped herself onto her bed, burying her head into the soft pillows. A Cobra Starship song came out blasting through her ear buds. She would not tell anyone, but rather "promiscuous" songs was the majority of her collection. The lyrics eased her mind, and made her feel confident. When she was feeling sick of herself, she would turn on songs that most definitely went past her morals. She squeezed her eyes tighter. Casey completely cleared her cluttered mind, focusing on nothing else but the lyrics.
No good, you're up to no good
But damn, you look good and I'm drunk
Now you got me kinda thinking, like maybe I would
So hard to be good, it's so hard to be good, oh.
S-C-A-N-D to the A, to the L-O-U-S
I can't handle it, can't handle it.
Damn that girl, she's scandalous.
Even though Casey was one hundred percent in tune with the lyrics, she could still hear a faint voice in the back of her mind. It was saying something repeatedly. But it wasn't until she fell into a deep sleep, that she could hear it.
"Haven't you ever just wanted to cut loose? ...Live a little dangerously?"
A/N: Hehe.
Songs:
Lose Yourself by Eminem
Damn You Look Good and I'm Drunk by Cobra Starship
