Chapter Text
Derek was in the zone. It was 6:30 in the morning and he’d been dancing since 5, leaping and stretching into strange beautiful shapes.
“SHARPER! God, Derek, you won’t stand a chance if you don’t strengthen up your lines” Lydia critiqued.
Derek scowled at her, using her face as a spot point for his triple pirouette.
“For fucks sake, Derek, SMILE!” she sighed as Derek came out of the spin to raise his leg impressively behind his head.
“You know what?” Derek snapped as he put his foot back on the floor with more force then was all together required, “Maybe you should just dance it for me since you seem to have so many problems with one of the best run throughs I’ve had for this piece.”
Lydia shifted her weight over to her left foot and frowned, Derek immediately took note of this change in expression and quickly back tracked
“Lyds, I didn’t mean it. It’s just tha-”
“Oh no, I get it. You want me to be nice, I can definitely do nice, it’s not like I haven’t been nice since I woke up at the asscrack of dawn to help you with your Juilliard audition when I need to study for my SATs”
Derek’s cheeks burn, “honey” Lydia says taking Derek’s hand
“I love your dancing- you know I do or else there was no way in hell I’d be here at 6:30 in the morning- but this piece just isn’t your best. You’re completely disconnected from it, you can’t see the fight in it. You’re not a very expressive person, Derek, you tend to hold everything inside; but when you dance, your inner self shines right through your moves. You need to tell THAT story, and show that person for them to really be impressed.”
She patted him on the cheek before turning around and walking towards the exit “I have to head home and get ready for school, I’ll see you later. And don’t forget to shower, you smell like boy sweat” she called behind her exiting the room.
Derek blinked after her, standing stalk still in the middle of the gym. He let out a sigh wile turning to grab shrug into his hoodie and grab his gym bag and keys.
All throughout the bike ride home Derek mulled over what Lydia had said. It wasn’t that he was unexpressive, he just found it hard to find the words to tell people how he felt about things. Movement was much easier, emotion translated much better through a dance then through speech. Lydia was right about the piece, he knew it deep down, but he couldn’t scrap the piece he put together painstakingly all summer vacation for his Juilliard audition.
He’d spent hours figuring out his best executed and most impressive moves, arranging them for maximum fluidity. The piece was perfect. The piece had every single thing it needed- except a story. His routine was lacking the thing most vital to all contemporary dancers, emotion. It wasn’t borne of pain, or love, or any emotion at all. It was just a bunch of moves put together to look pretty.
Just as Derek was approaching the narrow dirt road that led to his house a blue Jeep TJ rumbled past with a horrible grinding sound, it’s driver one very sleepy looking Stiles Stilinski on his way to a morning lacrosse practice.
Derek sighed thinking about those brown eyes looking back at him and turned up his driveway. He put his bike on the rack in the garage and turned to look at the1968 Camaro SS with its engine removed, worn seats with small tears and faded, rusted black paint.
“Don’t worry baby”, he said running his hand up the hood, “you’ll be taking me where that stupid bike does soon enough”.
He startled as the garage door opened and his older sister poked her head out, hair in a towel “If you’re done making weird sweet car love to your shitty beater you might wanna get in the shower before you’re late for class, Cora even left some hot water”.
There was no hot water.
After taking a shower that rivaled the arctic ocean Derek dressed himself in a denim button up, black jeans, boots and of course, the black leather jacket his dad had given him a few years prior.
He stomped downstairs where his mother smiled at him and put a plate of eggs and bacon in front of him.
“How is your audition coming, honey?” she asked, sitting down. Derek just let out a long breath and put his head in his hands. “Sighing is not an acceptable response, mister” his mother laughs out while giving Derek a playful shove.
Cora sits down at the table next to Laura and asks “what are you guys talking about?” to which Laura promptly replies “Derek won’t use his mouth words”
“Derek has mouth words?”
“rumor has it”
Derek just growls at them before grabbing his bag off the floor, and heading to the garage to get his bike, breakfast left untouched.
Derek couldn’t concentrate throughout his morning classes. All he could think about was what he was going to do about his audition piece.
Lydia sat down beside him in chemistry and tutted, checking her lipstick in a compact mirror.
“Why the long face?”
Derek buried his face in his arms, “I have nothing to present for my Juilliard audition” he groans.
“Derek don’t be an ignoramus, whatever yo-”
Whatever Derek was or wasn’t going to was promptly tuned out as Derek’s ears heard a familiar laugh coming down the hallway.
“Derek, I’m trying to tell you something! Why aren’t you listening to- ohhhh” Lydia smirked knowingly as Stiles rounded the corner into the room, laughing about some funny moment during practice and gesticulating wildly. “You like him, don’t you”
Derek turned to face her, expression mortified. “I- I don’t know what you’re talking about” he stutters out.
“Oh honey” Lydia coo’s “But you so do”.