Okay!! So, I just realized that in my fanfics, I haven't mentioned Paul. Kind of sad considering that I actually like Paul quite a bit. So, I'm going to try and add more Paul into this story. I know it's a little OOC on the Derek part, but oh well. I don't think this fic will be that long, either. Just stick with me, people, and review and I'll love you!! Thank you and please read on!

Disclaimer: I do not own Life with Derek. I do own the little parts of the poem you read, though.

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A knock sounded on Paul's - the school's guidence counselor - door in the middle of third period, which was quite odd. Paul hardly got visits at this time excluding the occasional rant from Casey McDonald, Paul's regular.

"Come in," Paul shouted, thinking the knock most likely came from Ms. McDonald, except Casey never knocks, but instead she usually barges right in and starts complaining. To say that Paul was surprised to see Derek Venturi, Casey's step-brother, come through the door would be an understatement.

Paul had seen Derek once before, but his agenda appeareed to be rather clear - find out what Casey had said about him during her regular visits. And if Paul had been sipping on his coffee at that moment, he mostly likely would have spit it out all over his desk, Derek, the floor, or all three.

"Derek?" Paul asked, Derek taking a seat in front of Paul's desk. "I wasn't really expecting to see you," Paul said, raising his eyebrows at said step-brother.

"Look, the only reason I'm here is because my English teacher sent me here after reading my stupid poem and saying something about a family complex," Derek said casually, shrugging and looking around Paul's office. Paul raised his eyebrows at Derek's explanation.

"Poem for English class?" Paul asked. "Do you happen to have that poem with you?" Derek looked over at him and nodded smugly.

"Yeah," he said. "Why?" His eyebrows furrowed together. Sure, The Derek Venturi had written a poem, but was it that surprising? He was fully capable of writing a poem if he really wanted to. Or, if he was just really frustrated with something, then he could easily blast his music and scrawl out words on a scrap of crumpled notebook paper.

Of course, writing poems had always been his keener step-sister's thing and if anyone found out about that poem, he'd written, things at school would change. Things at home would change. His whole world would turn upside down.

Paul shrugged at Derek and replied, "Well, your teacher sent you here because of that poem, right? So, I would be able to understand better as to why she sent you here if I read that poem." Paul leaned back in his chair and intertwined his hands with on another.

Derek shifted uncomfortably in the chair as his mouth turned downwards in a scowl. "Umm," Derek mumbled, shifting his gaze to his lap.

"Listen, Derek, either you can give me the poem, I could go ask your teacher about it, or you could tell me, yourself, what the poem says," Paul said and smirked as Derek's eyes widened in horror at Paul's threat. He raced to dig in his leather jacket's pocket and then brought his hand out, holding a crumpled, folded, lined piece of paper and hastily shoved it at Paul.

One Paul had taken it, Derek shifted his gaze back to his lap. Paul eyed him then slowly unfolded the folded paper. Paul's eyes scanned the writing and his mouth dropped a little in shock at two lines:

If I hate her and she hates me,
then why can't I just let her be?

Paul soon realized what - or more appropriately, who - the poem was about. Derek's keener, uncool, klutzy step-sister, Casey McDonald. Paul looked up at Derek, then back down at the paper and continued reading. Although, when he came to the last two lines, his eyes bugged out and he read over it several times.

What is this bubbly, churning feeling inside?
This feeling that I just can't seem to put aside.

Paul closed his mouth quickly, realizing it had been hanging open for several minutes. He teared his eyes off the paper and looked at Derek. Derek glanced over at Paul and held his gaze for quite some time. Finally, Paul decided on breaking the silence.

"So, umm, would you like to talk about the poem? Like, what it means and everything," Paul said and Derek quickly tore his eyes away and stared at the wall to his right. "It means nothing. It's just a stupid poem I happened to write," Derek said blandly.

Paul raised his eyebrows at Derek. "Oh, really, from a couple of the lines in the poem, Derek, it surely doesn't seem to mean nothing. Tell me, what was your inspiration for this poem," Paul said, crossing his arms over his chest.

Derek's scowl deepened. "There wasn't an inspiration," he said sternly.

"I'm sure there must be some reason as to why you wrote this. Is it about someone?" Paul asked, smiling slyly, already knowing who it was about. Derek's head whipped over to Paul and Derek narrowed his eyes at him.

"Someone? It seems pretty darn clear that you know who it's about," Derek said through gritted teeth. Paul smirked and leaned forward.

"It appears that you wrote this about a certain someone that I happen to see just about every day," Paul said.

"Well, there's two people that you see every day, isn't there, Paul?" Derek said, smirking. "Casey McDonald and your mother." Paul's smirked dropped at the obvious insult in Derek's sentence. Then, he smiled at Derek.

"Well, it seems that you know the one person I see every day. Casey McDonald," Paul said. Derek huffed and looked over to his right again, glaring daggers into the wall.

"So, Derek, what exactly is this 'bubbly, churning feeling inside' that you 'just can't seem to put aside'?" Paul asked, smirking once again. Derek shot a glare at Paul and scowled.

"You tell me," he said angrilly.

"Well, I don't know, Derek, it seems to me that you have fe-"

RIIIIIING

Derek shot up out of the chair at the sound of the bell, signally him to go to lunch. He smiled over at Paul. "Whoops, I guess I better head off to lunch," he exclaimed, racing out the door and strait into Casey.

"De-rek!" She exclaimed.

"Sorry, Space Case. See ya!"

Casey huffed and stalked into Paul's office, slamming the door behind her and plopping into the chair. She glared at Paul's desk and then suddenly furrowed her eyebrows in confusion and looked up at Paul, who was waiting for her to go off into her usual rant.

"Why was Derek in here?" She asked, looking back down at his desk and noticing a crumpled paper opened on his desk dislaying a column of rhymes that were foreign to her. Then, something caught her eye: the title and author. 'Her by Derek Venturi' it said and she snatched the paper off of Paul's desk.

"Hey! Casey, you can't look at that! It's student-counselor confidentiality!" Paul exclaimed, trying to snatch the paper back, but Casey stood up and shot out of the office.

Paul sat back down in shock and shook his head. "This is not good," he mumbled to himself.

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So, please review! I'll have the other chapter up soon. I promise!