BreeTico – Yep, I figured that Derek was level-headed enough that he wouldn't totally lose it (sort of like Nick did in Flaws & Love.) Bailey and her family aren't as ruthless as the Watsons because I don't think anyone could be as ruthless as the Watsons, but they still have a few tricks up their sleeves.

cheerdebate2015 – Honestly, I literally laughed out loud reading your review. I'm still not sure as to why, but I certainly giggled like a maniac. Don't worry, I tend to post in a healthy four-day pattern.

The Significance Series belongs to Shelly Crane.

17: Triple Threat Touchdowns

Derek took me to an Indian place for lunch, where all of the food had been spicy enough to make my eyes water. Like a true other half, he just laughed at me as I fanned my mouth and sucked down glass after glass of water despite the fact that they weren't helping. After that, we'd gone to an action-packed movie about marines overseas, fighting against some type of robot monsters. It was the first time that I'd been to a movie theatre in years, and Derek did his best to make the experience truly fit – he'd bought us large sodas and a huge container of popcorn, which he covered in enough butter to give me cholesterol problems for the next year or so. By the time we got to our seats, he'd spent enough on snacks and refreshments to make up someone's inheritance.

By the time four o' clock came around and the band members were getting together, I was stuffed with popcorn, butter, and soda. Derek kept his arm around me as he led me to the car. It was technically a date with lunch and a movie, and it was the very first one that I'd ever been on.

Derek said that they always held practice at a rent house, where two of the band members were roommates. The living room, he said, was decked out with a huge TV and the band's instruments. The rest of the stuff sat stacked in the garage, where neither of the guys parked. It was basically the place for Derek and his friends to hang out, since it was void of parental authority.

We drove a part of Chicago that was almost like an exact replica of my mom's neighborhood. There were sidewalk- and tree-lined streets, houses that stood between one and two stories tall, and there were little kids out playing in the yard or using the street as their own personal baseball diamond. It was like the very definition of suburbia. I couldn't help but wonder how two college-aged guys managed to pay rent in a place like this, much less how they'd even come to the decision to live here instead of closer in town, where life was always moving on fast forward.

Derek pulled up to the curb in front of a squat redbrick house with a white-painted door that had a stained-glass design in the window. The garage door was cracked about an inch, and there was a monstrous bush in the front yard. "This is where your friends live?" I asked, leaning against my window and peering out, as if I was suddenly going to see something that said that the place specifically belonged to college guys. "It looks like a place that my grandmother could live." I mused out loud.

Derek chuckled. "That's exactly what I said. Except for the fact that my grandma would never be caught around here," he continued, leaning back in his seat. I laughed as he twisted the keys back, turning off the car's engine. The rumbling immediately stopped and he looked over at me, raising his eyebrows meaningfully. "Let's go meet the band."

With a heavy, exaggerated sigh to try and cover up my sudden burst in anxiety, I pushed open the car door. My side just happened to be on the same side of the street as the house. As I brushed out my skirt, I looked over the front of the place. It didn't look particularly intimidating, not like Derek's house did. This place looked… comfortable, like my grandmother would be coming to the door and offering me a plate of her famous chocolate peanut butter cookies. Derek came around the front of the Trans Am and offered me his hand. Weaving our fingers together, I let him lead me up the front walk to the door.

Derek didn't knock or anything. He just twisted the knob and let it swing open. You don't knock? I asked, unable to hide my surprise. I'd never had a friend that I was comfortable with enough that I could just walk into their house unannounced; and none of my friends had done that to me. Bailey and I – best friends for nearly ten years when I was a kid – were the picture of formality. Her parents were Mr. and Mrs. Tucker, I always knocked on their door, and I usually asked whether or not I could use the restroom, even after I knew the layout of Bailey's house like the back of my hand.

Johnny and PJ never lock it. He replied, stepping inside. I stayed behind him, as if I was afraid something was going to jump out and get me.

Inside, it looked like a bunch of college-aged guys lived here. Outside it was picturesque, the cover of a magazine or a photo in a newspaper article, but inside it was a mess. Pizza boxes were stacked haphazardly in the corners of the room. Paper plates, empty soda and beer cans, and socks were spread out all over the place. Excuse the mess, Derek said in my mind. I could tell that he was thinking about my need to organize things when I got stressed, and he was wondering if I would ever have enough anxiety without him to clean up Johnny and PJ's place.

I started to come back with a snarky answer when I saw the collection of yard sale armchairs centered around a low table that had obviously seen its fair share of beer cans. Sitting against the far wall was a long aquarium, filled with dark wooden bark and a collection of small branches. The top part had a series of bricks sitting on top, half of them fallen over and spread against the glass screen. The glass looked a little foggy, as if there was a high humidity in there. "Is that a snake?" I whispered.

"Her name's Sarah," Derek replied in a low voice, eyeing me. He probably already knew that snakes weren't my favorite animals on earth. They ranked higher on my list of acceptable creatures than spiders, cockroaches, and sharks, but they were still creepy with their slithering armless bodies and fangs.

"The snake's name is Sarah," I repeated, staring at the tank. Inside was a bright green thing, coiled on top of a branch, its sides looping down to hang below it. I could already imagine it trying to bite me. Or maybe, since I doubted it was venomous, it was one of those types that crushed their prey to death by squeezing the life out of it. How pleasant.

Derek turned just a little to face me, drawing me closer. "Hey," he breathed, "if it bothers you –"

"No," I said, cutting him off. "Just don't let it touch me, and we'll be fine." I said, giving him a reassuring smile. As long as that snake stayed in the confines of its cage while I was here, I would be able to breathe. My eyes stayed on it, though, as Derek pulled me past the house's small foyer and into the living room, where I could hear voices.

"Derek, my man!" Someone called out as Derek neared the open doorway. Standing behind him, I was practically hidden from view. It seemed that, aside from Derek's ability to make himself go invisible and camouflage other people, he was just good at hiding me in general, thanks to his broad stature. "I heard the door. Where have you been?"

"I think that's where he's been," said a voice directly to my right. I jumped – I hadn't heard anybody come to my side. I looked up and recognized one of the guys from the band's internet page. He was, no doubt, the lead singer. He had charming good looks, someone who would be the last person I would expect to see in a band. His hair was ashy blonde, cut short, and he wore a T-shirt and jeans. Looking down at his feet, I noticed that he wasn't wearing shoes or socks, and for a moment I wondered if he was the one that left his socks all over the house. He looked like he belonged to a football team with his stature.

Derek's arm came around me protectively, pulling me into his side. That's PJ. The other one's Johnny. I looked over PJ and he looked over me, both of us sizing up the other. I could tell, easily, that he was doing that guy thing to see what I was doing hanging around with one of his best friends; or, more like it, what one of his best friends was doing hanging around me. Our eyes locked, and I knew instantly that we were playing a game, seeing who would crack first. After a good second of silence, I gave him my most dazzling smile and said, "I'm Emily. You must be PJ."

PJ seemed a little taken aback that I knew who he was, but after a second, he probably attributed it to me being some sort of groupie that had finally got her hands on Derek. Around Derek, where Johnny was (I still hadn't seen him, so I assumed that he hadn't seen me) I heard, "Whoa. Derek's got a chick?" Derek pulled me forward a little bit, right into the line of sight of Johnny and the thin, busty girl sitting next to him. "Finally. I was starting to think my man bat for the other team." The girl sitting next to him snapped out her hand, smacking Johnny right across the chest.

I recognized Johnny as the bassist – his hair was dyed black and blue, short on the sides and long on the top. His bottom lip was pierced, and there was a bar that went through his eyebrow with two shiny silver balls on either end. The girl beside him must have been the girlfriend that Jack kept mentioning. She was certainly pretty, thin in the waist and curvy where it counted. Her hair was curled and dark blonde, probably with the help of Lady Clairol, but she was pretty nonetheless, with her sparkling blue eyes and quick smile. "Ignore him," she said easily. "I'm his girlfriend, Tory."

"Emily," I said in return. Derek's arm tightened around me momentarily before releasing me completely. PJ held out a hand and Derek took it. They pulled together to do that weird arm-hug man thing, shaking once before pulling apart.

Johnny vaulted off the couch and stepped around Tory, reaching out for my hand. I took it, expecting a quick shake. But he drew me forward, away from Derek, lifting his arm and making me spin around. He made an appreciative sound, which left me feeling a little exposed, for some reason. Tory snorted and shook her head, as if this was something Johnny did to other girls on a regular basis, and something that she had come to expect from him and dutifully ignore. His eyes skimmed over me, and I bit down on my lip. "You know, Derek's never had a chick. I've known this kid for at least ten years, and he's never had a girlfriend. So, what did you do to get him to pay a little attention to you?" His eyes glowed almost deviously.

"Come on, Johnny." Derek said suddenly, giving his friend a little shove. "Leave her alone."

"Nah, seriously, man," Johnny said, giving Derek a little shove back. "What is it?" He asked me, looking down at me.

Tory rolled her eyes next to him. Looping an arm around his, she pulled him away and said, "Come on, let's get you something to drink. You can harass Derek and Emily later." She said, pulling Johnny into the kitchen.

PJ eyed me from where he stood, as if he wasn't sure that he trusted me. "So, how'd you meet Derek?" He asked suddenly. I knew, from countless books, that there's always a best friend that plays the wingman or wingwoman, and when their best friend gets serious with someone, it's their job to scout them out. My mom had done that to Derek, as had my dad. And now, it looked like PJ was going to do it to me.

Keeping with the same lie that we'd been telling my friends and family, I said, "Deaf support group meeting," forgetting the fact that I was no longer deaf and had no reason to be there.

PJ made a face. "What?"

Oh, my God. I breathed in my mind. I can't believe that I just said that. I told Derek, doing my best not to let my eyes dart to him. I'd learned that it became obvious that we were talking to each other when we looked at each other while speaking in our minds. Any Ace would know what we were doing, but to a regular human, we'd look awkward, out of place, and they would definitely remember it as something strange.

It's okay. Just tell them that you were there because of your partial deafness or something, and I'll tell him about my fake deaf grandfather that he's never met. Derek said. His hand touched the small of my back. I could feel the warmth of his touch through the fabric of my shirt. It gave me a good dose of comfort and encouragement.

"I'm partially deaf," I spit out, trying to think of a way to form it correctly. I wanted to sound realistic, and so I just spouted a story. "I was in an accident when I was a kid, and for a while I didn't have much hearing. I, um, have been getting my hearing back slowly but surely." I couldn't help but glance at Derek for acceptance. His fingers ran across my back, barely noticeable to anybody but me.

"Really?" PJ asked. His eyes darted over to Derek, who just gave a slight nod. "So… can you hear me?" He asked.

"Yeah," I replied with a grin. "Like I said, lately I've been getting my hearing back."

PJ nodded. But he kept his lips shut, like he was nervous. He'd set out with a plan to make sure that I wasn't going to break Derek's heart, and with one answer, I'd put him back in his place. Derek's arm slipped around my waist, pulling me into his side. "So, um, how long have you two been together?"

I glanced up at Derek. We'd told my mom that we'd been together for five or six months. She hadn't seemed shocked that I hadn't introduced him to her before, but I didn't know if Derek's friends would think the same thing. Besides that, we needed a time period that would make sense with us with the way that we were always hanging on each other. And, I had no idea if PJ, Johnny, and Tory would ever meet my parents and be able to find out if we'd told them the exact same thing. What should we say?

Exactly what we told your mom. We met five or six months ago, but we only decided to be a couple recently. He replied.

Ooh, I like it. Vague, I replied, trying not to smile as PJ looked at me questioningly, waiting for an answer. I cleared my throat and said, "I met him what, five or six months ago? Anyway, we've been friends for a while, and we only recently decided to try dating." I gave my significant a smile over my shoulder. He grinned back.

PJ nodded, and I had the feeling that he was trying to think of something else to ask me (did Derek feel like this when my parents were interrogating him?) when the front door behind us opened. All three of us turned to face the door. The guy that had to be the drummer – he was larger, barrel-chested and a little heavier set than the other guys, with a cropped dark faux hawk – stepped in the room. He nodded to PJ and opened his mouth to greet his band mates when his eyes landed on me. His jaw snapped shut, and he eyed me almost nervously.

Derek turned me away from PJ. "Emily, this is our drummer, Tank. Tank," he said, directing his voice to the drummer whose eyes were still glued to me. I could tell that my significant was a little wary about the way he was looking at me. I could mentally tell that Derek knew that his friend's expression was his interested face. "This is my girlfriend, Emily."

I gave him an easy smile, not wanting to seem too eager to meet him. "Hi," I said, weaving my fingers with Derek's. "Nice to meet you."

Tank cleared his throat. "You too," he said a little gruffly. His eyes shot to PJ, who gave an almost imperceptible nod. He fist-bumped Derek as he passed on his way to the kitchen, giving me an easy smile as he slid by.

PJ shook out his shoulders and said, "Well, I think we're going to try for an actual practice today. We've got that gig coming up next weekend." His eyes darted over to me before he slipped away and headed towards where everyone else was gathered in the kitchen, rubbing the back of his neck.

Why are they all looking at me like I have two heads? I asked Derek. I tossed my gaze towards the open doorway of the kitchen. I could imagine that they were all talking about me, the intruder on their home. They probably didn't mean to make it so obvious, or to make me feel like I was out in the place, but they did.

They've never seen me with anyone, Emily. Derek said calmly, his hand squeezing mine briefly. My eyes returned to his, and he gave me a cute half-grin. Not only are they probably wondering what makes you so special, but I think Tank has a crush on you. You're exactly the type of girl he sees in the crowd, and if she's a groupie, he's all for it. I made a face and was congratulated with a mental chuckle that caressed my mind. But if he tries anything at all, I'll put him in his place.

You're so cute when you're jealous. I smirked. Derek smirked back, but he couldn't hide the genuine smile underneath. His free hand came up to brush my cheek. I could feel my entire body relax at his touch. I would have figured that, by now, I would be used to it. It had technically only been two weeks that we'd been together, but it felt like an eternity. I felt like I'd known Derek my entire life. I couldn't imagine a day without him. But I still wasn't used to his touch, or the way his voice made me feel, or the flutter of my heart when he looked at me.

I wouldn't have to be so jealous if you would stop being so gorgeous.

I choked out a laugh. I hadn't really been aware of it, but while we'd been talking in our minds, the two of us had drifted a little closer to the other. He was slow close that I didn't have to raise my voice more than a whisper. "Nice save," I told him quietly, my lips barely moving.

Derek made a noise in reply before leaning forward and kissing me almost forcefully. His grip on my hand tightened. His other hand came up to brush through my hair, fingers intertwining with thick chunks of black-blue strands. As always, I could feel it all the way into my toes, like he was shocking me. But it was a pleasant energy hum that made me react in ways that I would have never reacted before. My hands slid effortlessly inside his leather jacket, fingers looping in the belt loops of his jeans. I leaned towards him so much that he had to take a step backwards, one hand pressing against the wall to keep us balanced. He bit down a little on my lower lip, teasing me and escalating the entire thing. I couldn't help but let out a tiny noise. Our hands separated, his going to my lower back, pulling me closer to him.

We continued to make out in the corner of the room for a little while longer, my skin burning hot. I pulled away to breathe and his lips dropped to my neck, smoothing across my collarbone. "Derek," I whispered, "don't you have to go to band practice?" He chuckled in reply, his fingers tightening on my back for a moment before releasing me completely. I unwound my grasp from his belt loops, pausing to tug on the hem of his jacket and straighten out the front lapel. I could still feel his kiss on my lips, my knees still a little weak. How he managed to do that to me, I still wasn't sure.

I cleared my throat a little bit, biting down on my lower lip as I reached up instinctively and pushed his hair out of his eyes. One thing that I loved about Derek was that he let me straighten his jacket and mess with his hair. He even looked like he sort of enjoyed it. I couldn't hide the smile tugging at the edges of my lips. "Go on," I told him, giving him a gentle shove towards the kitchen. "You need to practice for your gig next weekend."

He gave me a smirk, reaching back to intertwine our fingers before leading me to the kitchen. He left me in the care of Tory with instructions not to tell me too many embarrassing stories about himself, and then he and the guys slipped out into the garage where all of their equipment was. They were, truly, a garage band. I bit my lip as I watched them disappear into the garage. Tory pulled open the fridge and reached inside, holding several amber-brown bottles by the neck in a single hand. She offered one to me, and I shook my head. "Um, no thanks. I don't drink."

"Just like Derek," she replied with a smile, setting them down on the counter. With an almost scary ease, she popped the caps off of all of them without using a bottle cap opener or even wrapping it with the hem of her shirt. "There are also sodas and water bottles if you want something." She said, nodding towards the now-closed fridge. "Being here basically ensures you free food. Technically, the guys wouldn't even have anything if I didn't force Johnny and PJ to go farther than the corner store to grocery shop." She gave me an easy smile, trying to show me that she was friendly and outgoing, not someone to be feared.

I could feel Derek peeking in on me while he was supposed to be focusing on playing his guitar. I had learned that I unconsciously kept my mind right on the edges of his, rarely ever pulling completely into myself. I always left myself open to him. And when his defenses were down, like now, I was sort of sucked into his mind. It made me understand the reasons that he had kept a careful distance mentally. If everything I felt he felt double, then I would probably keep a farther distance than he did.

As I moved towards the fridge, Tory brought one of the bottles to her lips, taking a sip. She watched me, though, as I took out a soda and scanned the shelves for what I knew was Derek's favorite – orange soda. On the very bottom shelf was a box of bright orange caffeine and carbonation. I grabbed one of them, setting it on the counter as I popped the tab on mine. Tory looked like she approved; I realized that she was waiting to see if I knew what Derek would have wanted. She was testing me.

I bit down on my lip to hide my smile as Tory leaned against the counter. "So," she said, "the guys put me up to seeing if you're good for our Derek." I blinked at how blunt she was. I would have expected her to be more like PJ, a little awkward, definitely quiet, searching for the right words to say to me. And even though Tory's way of saying things without sugarcoating them was worse than me and Derek combined, I found that I liked her. "But I'm not going to just ask you random questions and read into your answer. I'm just going to be honest with you."

I nodded, setting down the can of soda, staring at the dark liquid that still clung to the rim. I steeled myself for the best friend's speech. I was prepared to hear that she would personally take me down if I ever disappointed Derek – not that a moment like that would ever happen, but still.

Tory took another drink and met my eyes. "I met Derek about five years ago. Believe it or not, Johnny and I met in high school, our freshman year. We were instantly friends, and we started dating as sophomores. I've basically grown up with these guys. They're sort of like my brothers." She shrugged, brushing a chunk of blonde hair behind her ear. "I've seen the ups-and-downs in Johnny's life. I've seen Tank go through heartbreak – you wouldn't expect it with him, but even though he does do those annoying conquests of his, he's a real big softie underneath it all. And PJ, Jesus. I've seen him go from that annoying preppy guy that wears pink Polos to the guy he is today. And out of six years, Derek's the only one that's been constant. He really is a good guy, one of my best friends. But he's never had a girlfriend that we knew about. He doesn't drink alcohol, and he stays outside of the limelight. He's almost… inexperienced."

My cheeks flushed and I looked down at my soda, flicking the tab on the can. Derek had chosen to focus on his practice that time, so I didn't have any backup, physically or mentally. "I don't really know what to say." I admitted. "He's like… perfect for me. I can't imagine my life without him. And I love him," I told her, "I really do."

She narrowed her eyes at me in a way that said she was just searching for something. But I could tell that she was trying not to smile at her words. I'd said exactly what she'd wanted to hear, I realized. She wanted to know that I wasn't some groupie that was interested in Derek because he was in a band, or chasing after him because of the Stanton family's riches, or just playing with his heart because I could. "How long have you known him?" She asked, her words quiet.

I bit down on my lip. "Honestly? Not long. But it's like that doesn't even matter. I feel like I've known him forever. I can't believe I ever lived without him. I can't remember what it felt like to be without him." I bit down on my lip, thinking that I was saying too much. I picked up my drink to take a moment. I was suddenly aware of the fact that I was shaking. This was making me nervous. I took a deep breath, trying to make sure that my heart remained calm as I said the next words. "I don't really know what it is about me that Derek found so interesting," I said. It wasn't a lie. I just knew that who I was just happened to be perfect for who he was. But I still wasn't sure what exactly that was. "But all I know is that I'm glad he picked me."

Tory abandoned her drink on the counter and stepped forward to hug me. Shocked, I stood there frozen for a moment before slowly reaching up and patting her on the back. She pulled away just as quickly as she had stepped forward and fluffed back her hair. "Sorry," she said, giving me a smile. "I mean, the guys put me up to this job because I'm apparently the one designated to deal with possible girlfriends or something. But Jesus, you're like perfect for Derek. I can already tell, even though we've only been talking like, five minutes. Derek's one of those people that you just know. And you're basically the same way. You know that?"

I shrugged, "I do now."

She laughed. "Alright, I've put my official stamp of approval on you. But a warning: don't break Derek's heart, because he has all those guys willing to back him up, and the guys say that I'm like a Mama Bear when it comes to the band."

"Warning received," I replied, "but I promise you, I don't plan on ever breaking his heart."

"That's the right answer," she teased. "Let's go out to the garage and give our boyfriends goo-goo eyes. It boosts their egos." She said, going to the garage door which was just off the kitchen. I followed her, holding Derek's drink in one hand.

The garage didn't really look like a garage. It looked like PJ and Johnny had spread out a large rug on the garage door. The sides were covered in shelving units. There was a big TV with a cord that led inside underneath the door. Fans were all over the place, and I was pretty sure that every single one of them was turned on, keeping it cool in the room. Amps were stacked on top of each other, guitar stands lining the back wall. There was a drum set closer to the large garage door, a microphone set up at the front of the garage, closer to the kitchen door. There was another fridge wedged in the corner, and I didn't miss the old secondhand couches and end tables lounging around. Overall, it was cluttered, just like the inside of the house.

Tory collapsed onto the closest couch, setting her collection of alcoholic drinks on the end table nearby. I moved to sit on the other end, balancing Derek's orange soda on the edge. When I looked up to see him, I was surprised. It wasn't because he had a guitar strapped over his shoulder; it was because of how good he looked with a guitar strapped over his shoulder. Standing with his feet shoulder length apart, he cradled the neck of the guitar in his left hand, fingers moving over the strings with a speed that I had barely managed to match even when I'd been at the peak of my guitar-playing skills before I'd lost my hearing.

If I didn't love him already, seeing him play the guitar was enough to tie up all the loose ends.

Derek looked up and gave me an easy smile. I didn't know if talking to him would ruin his concentration, but since his eyes had returned to the neck of his guitar, I said quietly, I've got you an orange soda.

Derek's fingers didn't falter on the guitar as I felt his recognition of my words. But he didn't look up at me and he didn't reply. I leaned back in my seat and crossed my legs underneath me, leaning on the arm of the couch and watching him play. The band did a few of their own songs, written mostly by Johnny, but they also did a good amount of covers. And the genre of music wasn't really that was a surprise. Derek exuded the personality for this type. The one person that didn't fit just because of his looks was PJ – he just didn't scream alternative rock to me.

And even though I'd never really listened to the genre all that much before, I found myself loving it. I couldn't tell if it was because I really did like it, or if I liked it because Derek was playing it. I figured that I was probably biased, but it didn't matter as I found myself reconnecting with the music.

This was the first time that I'd listened to music since my hearing returned to me. When I was eleven, I'd always said that if my hearing ever came back it was going to be the very first thing I did. I was going to pick up my guitar and resume playing. But apparently my priorities had changed – the moment I'd realized that I could hear again, my world was Derek and Derek only. But now, with music playing around me, I could remember what it was like to pick up a guitar and strum it by ear. I found myself watching Derek's fingers play over the strings, and if I focused enough on him, I could invade his mind just enough that it felt like I was the one playing, not him.

Tory and I lounged while the guys practiced their entire set that they had prepared for the next weekend. I tried to keep silent and keep my mind far enough away from his that I didn't mess up his playing After they played their forty-five minute set, Derek pulled his guitar strap over his head and put the guitar on the nearest stand. He loped over to me and collapsed onto the couch between me and Tory, draping his arm over the top of the couch. I handed him his drink and he smiled, popping the tab.

Johnny and PJ started to argue over the arrangement of some of the words (I don't think it helped that Johnny was the song writer while PJ was the singer, since they obviously had different opinions on how the lyrics should be sung.) Tank accepted one of the open drinks from Tory, who played referee to her boyfriend and PJ without leaving her spot on the couch.

"Good job," I said quietly, leaning my head back on Derek's shoulder. His fingers combed through my hair.

"You think so?" He teased, his voice low, his breath hot on my ear, blowing hair across my cheek.

"Yeah, I guess." I replied, trying to keep the smile out of my voice. "I'm sure that I could do better than you, though." I joked. We both knew that it was a lie. I hadn't played a guitar since I was eleven, and Derek was obviously a master genius at it.

"Is that a challenge?" He asked, his eyes lighting up. I made a face, trying to press my lips into a thin line, unwilling to give him everything. "Alright, then, let's see how good you are."

"Right now?" I asked suddenly. "Not right now," I said, folding in on myself on the couch.

"Hey, you didn't specify a time. Let's see it." He said. Leaning forward to where his lips were almost touching mine, he said, "And don't worry about them laughing at you. If they do, I won't hesitate to back you up." Come on, Emily. I know you want to.

He stood up and breezed past PJ and Johnny, who were bent over a crumpled piece of paper that probably had Johnny's lyrics scribbled out on it. He headed over to the corner of the room and picked up the only acoustic guitar I'd seen in the room. He'd known, of course, that I'd always played acoustic and had very rarely messed with an electric guitar. He came back and handed it to me. Tory and Tank were instantly interested.

Derek picked up his guitar, knowing that I wasn't going to be comfortable playing by myself. He put the strap over his head and pulled a stool up in front of me. He sat down across from me, gave me a smile, and said, Follow my lead.

I made a face at him. He grinned back and started strumming softly. He'd unplugged the guitar from the amp so it didn't shake the very foundation of the garage. I listened for a moment, listening to the main chords. He was going easy on me because he knew that it had been so long since I'd last played. Listening to him play – just for me – made my heart pound a little harder and my hands become actually a little clammy. But I listened, recognizing the few notes that he was playing on repeat.

With a grin, I placed my fingers over the chords, the strings biting into my fingers. I'd lost whatever callouses I'd built up years ago, but I was able to push the sting out of my mind as I strummed the guitar, matching Derek's movements one after the other. It was just like everything else was with Derek – it felt natural. It became right. It was basically like I'd never stopped. As we continued to play, he decided to challenge me, making his patterns more complicated, moving his fingers down the neck, moving faster. After a second to adjust, I followed dutifully.

After a few minutes of competitive playing, Derek strummed his last one and I finished the duet with flourish. I leaned back, my fingers stinging with the indentions from the strings. But it felt right. And it made me beyond happy that I was able to share that moment with Derek – albeit with all of his best friends listening in, but still.

So, do I win the challenge? I asked, my eyes meeting his. My arm rested over the top of the guitar, my fingers still gripping the hot pink guitar pick Derek had given me.

The jury's still out on that one. He replied, giving me a dazzling smile in return. But I think you're pretty fantastic.

Sort of fluff. But we all enjoy a little fluff here and there. So I hope you liked it. (:

In case you were wondering, the Triple Threat Touchdowns are an alternative rock sort of band. I imagine them as a mix of Silverstein, Thousand Foot Krutch, and Trapt. I have to say, though, that I have no affiliations with any of these bands. Their songs and music are theirs.

And, since we're on the topic of music, there's this one song that never fails to make me think of the imprints: it's called Better Than Drugs by Skillet. Once again, I don't have any ties to the band or the lyrics or the music besides the fact that I like to listen to them in the car.

Thank you for taking the time to read this, I really do appreciate it. Please leave me a review in the box below. Peace (: