Chapter Text
Derek’s head was dangerously close to Emily’s breast when he finally registered the feel of her hand pulling firmly at his hair.
He looked like a deer caught in headlights as the room seemed to fill with laughter.
It had been a bad idea to accept her offer of bunching their desks together, and an even worse plan to see if he could sneak a closer glimpse at how her breasts clung to the front of her school shirt.
It had been an innocent thought, or so his cloudy mind had gathered. Staying up half the night reading to Marti probably hadn’t been the best thing to do the night before everyone returned to school, but he'd do anything for his youngest sibling.
An unfamiliar voice was calling his name and Derek could feel himself dribbling against a hot girl’s shirt like a newborn baby.
Fucking loser he thought to himself.
Sitting up quickly, he ran a hand through his mess of auburn hair, trying to steady his breathing and look like he knew what he was doing.
It was stupidly stuffy in the classroom, even with the windows open. Sometimes the weather in late September could be a real bitch, even in dreary old England. Casey would probably say she could smell the summer grass outside and all that pretentious (stupid) crap, but Derek was very aware he hadn't had the chance for a shower in the last few days. Not that Emily seemed to mind.
Derek's gaze landed on a new poster near the door, cautioning students to TALK TO FRANK in order to tackle alcohol and drug addiction. If only Frank could deal with all of Derek's problems. The only tackle he could handle was sports related.
Abby's new boyfriend was called Frank, because the world could be cruel like that.
At the thought of such a tainted world, a signature smirk landed on Derek's face and it made Emily giggle, which boosted his ego in a microsecond.
“Mmm, what was that?” he asked in his best clueless voice - actually more genuine than it seemed.
The guy giving him a death stare was familiar somehow, yet Derek was sure he knew all the teachers pretty well (strengths, weaknesses, favourite football teams). This was definitely a new teacher - substitute teacher If he was lucky enough to only be there for the day.
"Derek, is it?" the man pressed, yet somehow his tone was still reassuring. Dressed in an oversized Beatles t-shirt, a green blazer and smart black trousers, he had all the signs of a new teacher who was trying too hard to appeal to teenagers. Probably approaching mid 40s, this guy would look better in a cardigan, or whatever old men wore.
Derek didn't exactly have any male role models in his life. His own clothing style on the weekends was whatever he managed to throw on that didn't have buttons missing or a spaghetti stain from dinner the previous day, but he couldn't always be so fussy. Thankfully on school days his scruffy just woke-up look and the creases on his white shirt didn't stick out that much amongst a class full of seventeen year olds who loved playing footy at lunch time and making out with girls behind the bike sheds.
There were some hushed whispers. This teacher seemed to be getting a bit of attention from the females of the class. Mr Greebie according to the messy writing on the white board.
"I'd like an answer today please, Mr Venturi?"
Derek yawned, trying to focus but being distracted by Emily's arm moving around his shoulders, fingers playing with the hair at the nape of his neck. "Uh...Me llama Derek."
There was more laughter, but Derek hoped they were all amused by his class clown banter and not how pathetic he felt.
The teacher was a tall dark skinned man who spoke as if everything he said was a question. "You have a pet llama, or you are one?"
"En espanol! I thought we were en espana clase de dull?"
Mr Greebie laughed too. That was promising. "En inglés, señor Venturi?"
Derek threw his hands up dramatically in surrender. "I could really do with some food right now!"
The older man seemed to resign to the fact he wasn't getting anywhere. Derek saw that as a triumph, he just wanted to be left alone.
"Stay after class por favor, Derek."
Unfortunately letting himself take out his frustration on school wasn't the answer to resolving his family situation. If anything, drawing attention to himself only made things worse. But if he couldn't laugh at himself he'd burst into tears and there was no way he was about to give his class, the teacher, or even Emily the satisfaction of seeing him so vulnerable.
On the rare occasions that it happened, that was for Casey's eyes only.
"It's sex education, you missed all the good stuff," Emily practically purred into Derek's ear. She handed him a piece of chewing gum and he threw it into his mouth without a second thought.
He forced his eyes to stay open and managed to mumble, "That guy, teaching sex ed? You're messing with me," before his eyelids felt too heavy.
"Go back to sleep Derek, I won't tell Casey."
The next thing Derek knew he was the only student in the room, half listening to the ramblings of the new teacher.
Something something important. Something something A levels. Something about a husband, a kid and a dog.
Then Mr Greebie tried to bond over what he'd detected as hints of a Canadian accent.
Wow, gold star for this guy.
Somehow Casey had managed to slip into a british accent as easily as the new coat their dad had given her upon arriving in England.
Funny how that had been the last good thing that Dennis had done for them.
Five years after leaving Toronto, Derek still sounded like a confused, possibly drunk tourist. It made him incredibly self conscious of his voice, which was handy for hiding behind the facade of wanting to make people laugh with silly voices and impressions, or better yet not speaking at all.
"How are you liking Brighton?"
Let me go home.
"It's alright. I could do without all the seagulls threatening to shit in my hair though."
Derek stood up then and glanced at an imaginary watch on his wrist. "Probably snack time now, got anything worth sharing?"
The teenager was eyeing the packet of doughnuts half hidden behind one of the teacher's books. He'd been tempted to just run up and grab them, but surprisingly he did have some morals.
He imagined a little cartoon Casey sitting on his shoulder and shaking her head in protest, trying to persuade him to leave the best first impression.
"You want to feed doughnuts to the seagulls?"
Derek snorted and shook his head as if that was the most ridiculous thing he’d ever heard. "No….just one in particular. I call him Stanley."
Mr Greebie’s arms crossed over his chest, and he frowned, seemingly stunned by this explanation. "Derek, Stanley will die if you feed that to him. Besides, you've been here long enough to know not to feed the birds. There are signs everywhere-"
Against his better judgement, Derek made a grab for the bag of sugary treats and then made for the exit, pulling on his backpack. "Well he's not dead yet, so I'm not giving up on him. I've lasted alright the past five years without your wisdom, no offense."
“Also...those are my doughnuts!” The teacher protested, but he didn’t move to go after his student.
“Thanks sir!” Derek yelled over his shoulder.
Derek felt as if he'd been asleep all day, yet he was still walking home as if he was a zombie in desperate need of brains. The short trip felt so much longer when he had to do it alone. His closest friend, Emily, had some stupid after school club thing and it was his turn to look after the kids tonight.
Casey was babysitting , as if she didn't do that enough already. He'd actually laughed when she'd mentioned it, and then felt guilty as soon as her lips had started wobbling. Everyday it felt as if they were barely holding it together.
The Venturi family had been slowly crumbling apart and now that Abby was practically living with Frank, Derek felt as if he was working four jobs at once: class clown, anxious student, brother and best friend to Casey, and father to three children.
Only they weren't actually his kids, it just felt as if they were. Casey was the only one who understood that. Through the good and bad, he tried his best to be there for them, even if it meant sacrificing his most basic needs.
Like sleep.
God he missed getting eight hours of sleep a night.
Walking across Brighton seafront, the sky was full of seagulls. It was too early in the day to find one on his own, too sunny still. The beach was pretty busy for a weekday.
As soon as he felt that it was safe to do so, he knelt down on the pavement beside the beach, opened the packet and stuffed a jam doughnut into his mouth. They weren’t even that nice, probably not fresh, but Derek hadn’t eaten since breakfast. He’d drawn the short straw this time and been the one to miss out on lunch money. The poor offerings Abby’s waitressing Job gave them were barely enough for them to scrape by, hence why Casey was babysitting.
He sat for a while, listening to strangers yelling and the sound of the ocean. Abby was home, so he didn’t need to rush back.
The sun was starting to go down and the lights of the pier made it look cozy and inviting.
He remembered the first time they’d all gone on it; him, Casey, Ed, Lizard and Marti. There was something magical about it - being sort of half out on the sea and half on land. Marti had only been two. She was still terrified now about falling through the cracks, unless Derek or Casey held her hand. Lizzie was scared too, but she’d never admit it - too busy getting distracted by games in the arcade.
Ed always acted as if spending time with his family made him bored as hell and if anyone saw him smiling they were sworn to secrecy. That was at least something he had in common with his brother.
And Casey….He didn’t even know how to describe how he felt about her. The picture of her in his contacts was from that day on the pier, three years ago. He needed to update it, but right now it would be so difficult to get a nice one of her, to see her smile.
We should do the Brighton experience again - D
You mean like that one time? - Casey xoxo
The five of them had only gone together that one time, when the kids had been ironically easier to manage. It was a trip to all the tourist-friendly spots in Brighton (and there were a lot!). An ice cream in each hand had been sure to make everyone happy. Not any more.
Just me and you - D
He sent it before he had the chance to stop himself, knowing it was impossible to spend as much time together as they used to. They couldn’t trust Abby to stay alone with the kids for that long without feeling guilty as hell. It was why he’d spend so much more time with Emily in the past year or so - he needed that close connection with someone his own age and Casey couldn’t always be the answer.
Growing up, they’d been a cross between the best of friends and the worst of enemies. Derek was only a few months older than her and a lot of the time people would mistake them for being twins. He’d thought it was hilarious and teased her about it constantly. She’d resorted to calling herself the beauty and him the brains, mainly because of his witty, stupid sense of humour. Only he turned it around on her as they grew up; he was the one getting all the dates and she was the one who was more talented academically. On each other’s phone contacts they were still ‘Beauty’ and ‘Brains’; two halves of the same coin, even when they were fighting (which was still, a lot).
In an alternative universe? - Casey xoxo
You been reading my flash comics? lol - D
I might have read one to Marti - Casey xoxo
See you at dinner - Casey xoxo
School jumper wrapped around her waist and her messy ponytail hanging loosely, Lizzie’s hair band barely clung on, reminiscent of the fake optimism behind her nervous smile.
Derek felt his shoulders tense up when he saw she’d set up a mini obstacle course in the middle of the abandoned street. He vaguely remembered assuring her that he’d find somewhere she could practice her dribbling. It had slipped his mind. So she’d taken matters into her own hands because she was a kid and shouldn’t have to worry about the consequences of her actions all the time.
She was using exercise books, her school bag and an old cardigan with holes in its sleeves. He thought about yelling at her that she should know better, but he bit his lip and reminded himself that she was eight years old.
Lizzie could already act quite mature when it came to issues regarding family, loyalty and respect. Whenever Derek or Casey spoke to her sternly, she’d relent immediately and stop whatever silly idea she’d been planning, insisting that she wasn’t a baby. She did her homework on time, took on her sibling’s chores and even volunteered to babysit Marti, much to Derek’s amusement and Casey’s dismay.
He snuck up on her and stole the ball away easily, dribbling with as much energy as he could muster.
In an instant his sister was behind him, attacking his shins with her tatty trainers she shouldn't have been wearing to school. "Nu uh, I got it Lizard!" he grinned, booting the ball between two of the exercise books, presumed to be goal posts.
He was just starting his victory dance, legs about to move in that crazy way she teased him about, when he noticed the smug look on her face that appeared in her rare instances of mischief.
"An own goal, thanks Derek!" she yelled on her way to retrieve the ball, before scoring a goal herself.
He hadn't noticed the other makeshift goal. She must have been playing with someone.
"Ahhh, spending more time with Staci?"
His tone was teasing, with a hint of concern. He was still getting used to the fact that Lizzie was his sister, not that brother he had known for eight years previously. Now he suspected she had a little crush on the girl who lived opposite them. It was a lot to take in all at once, but Casey was always there for him to rant to, even if they didn't always agree on certain things.
Lizzie had looked away and carried on playing like the great sportsman she was. Sportsperson…. future England player, anyhow. He was beyond proud of her already.
Derek threw his school bag down in the hallway and could hear someone mumbling something in protest. He knew that sound anywhere. His five year old sister was standing up on the kitchen counter, her hand stuck deep down in a cereal box.
"Smarti!"
It wasn't even very high and she had her own little wooden ladder to get up there, but Derek couldn't help the panic in his voice. He hated how high it went whenever he gasped or panicked too much - such a stupid sign of weakness.
If anyone saw how protective he was with his family he'd want to punch them in the face, or at least imagine doing so while he made a snide comment and cooly walked away. If he was succeeding in being the weird kid, he could at least be the cool, mysterious weird kid.
Despite everything their family had been through, Marti had remained the one person Derek could never stay angry with.
“Where’s Abby?”
“Upstairs. Is she making dinner today, Smerek?”
“Doubt it.”
Derek picked his little sister up and got her to sit at the table, planting a kiss on her forehead. He put the pack of doughnuts on the table and gestured for her to share them.
“I’ll sort it if she doesn’t, ok?” He smiled weakly at her, used to being unable to fully deliver on his promises.
He turned to make his way upstairs and when he stopped halfway to look back at her, she already had her head in a book. Somehow, she’d gotten that from Casey. There was no other possible explanation.
“Is that my favourite boy?”
Derek paused again upon hearing his mother’s voice. It sounded slurred already. She’d promised to stay home that night. He didn’t know why he expected more from such a broken record.
Abby was in her bedroom applying a layer of make-up, looking less feminine than the drag queens Derek had seen wandering around town at night. She really wasn’t doing herself any favours by rejecting Casey’s suggestion of giving her some fashion and make-up tips. Even he knew what didn’t look good.
His mother was an embarrassment, but he needed her home. They all needed her home.
“Oh! Sorry honey I thought you were Edwin. You know Ed is my favourite of my three boys!”
Derek rolled his eyes and lent back against the wall. “You only have two boys, mum.”
“You, Edwin and -”
“Lizard, is a girl.”
Abby screwed her nose up. At least she had the nerve not to push it any further. “You know I don’t like that silly pet name.”
“ Lizzie then. Are you really going out tonight? You said you’d stay.”
“I thought I was staying home. Just like Lizzie thought he was a girl. It’ll pass.”
The little bit of respect he held for her in that moment (she was his mum) was gone in an instant. “Fine, have a great time talking to Frank.” She didn’t notice his sarcasm.
“Thanks, sweetie.”
Derek ran a hand through his hair, afraid for a moment of what he might do if she didn’t stop smiling at him through her mirror, just as if everything was amazing and they were a picture perfect family.
Thankfully, he heard the front door slam open and Casey greeting the kids downstairs.
He took it as an opportunity to stumble into his bedroom and crawl straight into bed, knowing the kids were in safe hands again.