Derek strode towards Yukio with a mischievous grin on his face. They had dated a few times and had sex more times than that. Out of all the girls in school, Derek felt like Yukio balanced him out the most. She was almost like a female version of himself. She took guys when she wanted them and then quickly disposed of them whenever she got tired. Then, if she wanted to, she'd snatch them back up again ... and they didn't even really care. But Derek could totally understand. Yukio made fucking seem like an art.
"Hey, Derek," Yukio said, with a smirk.
"Yukio. Are you coming to my party this weekend?" he asked.
"Of course. I wouldn't miss it. Can I bring my boyfriend?"
"Why not? I'm sure he won't get in the way."
She smiled. "See you later."
Derek moved past her, squeezing her ass as he did, which caused her to smile again. Then she continued walking.
But when she got far enough down the hall, the original Yukio regained control. She looked over her shoulder and didn't see Derek anymore. When the other Yukio was in control, she could hear her thoughts. When Derek talked about the party, she only had one thing on her mind: having sex with Derek. She was planning to cheat on Zach and didn't even care if she got caught. He was going to be at the same party, so the chances of getting caught by her boyfriend were really high. Yukio didn't know how a girl like that could even function. She always believed in a code of ethics, but the "evil" Yukio didn't seem to care. And that disturbed her.
But, oddly, at the same time, she felt liberated. Almost exhilarated. She felt like she could really get away with doing bad things. And the thing was, "evil" Yukio usually did.
Derek kept walking until he arrived at his locker, by which time the original Derek had regained control. He was still trying to understand what just happened with Yukio.
Derek was at the bottom of the totem pole, so to speak. He was a loner. He had no friends and no one really liked him a whole lot. He spent most of his time by himself, usually listening to his music or writing his poetry. (He liked doing that, writing poems. A lot of people probably didn't know that about him.)
But now things were different. People who wouldn't talk to him in a million years (or even share a room with him) were suddenly going out of their way to talk to him. He was beginning to realize that the changes to himself and Steve Farber weren't the only things that were different. But how could any of this happen?
