Little Lie, Big Lie
By Aislinn Cailin
Chapter One: Evening Disaster
The voices were driving her crazy. Laughter. Muffled talking. Music. Casey was never going to get her schoolwork done this way.
Not that she was particularly interested in schoolwork anyway. Not now, at least. She got up from her desk, quietly opening the door and tiptoeing to the edge of the railing near the staircase, where she got a clear view of the ground floor.
Leave, Derek, she thought bitterly. After all her hard work of making sure that Mom, George, Lizzie, Edwin and Marti would be out of the house this Friday night so she could have some time alone with Sam, Derek had to be the one to spoil it.
No surprise there, actually.
God. She was so stupid! Of course Derek would interfere. Of course he'd wreck her night. She had been foolish to think that Derek would shut himself up in his room like he normally did when Sammy, his Sam was in the house.
They were probably playing Babe Raider again. She was planning to play that with Sam, dammit!
The phone started ringing.
"Casey, can you get it? They're all in my room." Derek shouted through the noise of music and gun shots.
"You expect me to go into your room and get the phone?" Casey asked with disgust. "Get it yourself!"
"Sam says 'thanks'," Derek yelled back.
Casey rolled her eyes and opened the door to his room. "How long has it been since he cleaned this pigsty?" she asked herself, trying to step on a clean piece of ground and failing miserably. Shuddering, she took a giant leap to the edge of his bed — wait, was that a picture of the family on Derek's nightstand?
The phone kept ringing. "Casey, will you hurry up please?" Derek sounded impatient. "The noise is messing with the music!"
"Anything for you, brother dear," she muttered sarcastically. Grabbing the phone, she took two giant steps towards the hall.
"Hello?"
"Hi Casey, it's me," a voice crackled over the phone.
"Mom?"
"Yeah, honey, could you do me a favour? We're a bit lost, and George forgot the phone number." Casey heard an indignant response from who seemed to be George. "He says he left it on the kitchen table. Could you go check if it's there? It's a white, folded piece of paper."
"I'm on it, Mom," Casey said, going to her room. She checked her hair briefly in the mirror, tucked back a few strands, and went down the stairs. She saw Sam watch her come down, letting Derek momentarily beat him. Casey gave him (Sam, not Derek) a warm smile. Her hand brushed lightly against his elbow as she went into the kitchen. She knocked over one of the unlit candles she had set up especially for her and Sam's evening in the process. Derek snickered.
"It's the one that says Emma Witson, right?" she asked her mom.
"Yes, that's the one! Does it have a number on it?"
Casey read the phone number aloud over the phone. Nora replayed the digits back to her, just to be sure.
"Thanks, Casey," she said after Casey confirmed that that was the right phone number. "We'll be back home by eleven or so. Don't wait up." The was a soft click and the line went dead.
She put the phone back in its charger and went out into the living room.
"So, which level are you guys on?"
Derek ignored her. "What was that about?" he asked.
"Oh that was just …" her voice trailed off. She had a brilliant idea!
"That was George, and he says he wants you to get some stuff from the Mini Mart."
Derek groaned, and paused the game. He turned around. "Can't you do it?"
"Sorry, Derek, George says he wants you to do it especially. He'll be very upset if you don't. And besides," she flashed him an innocent smile which was purely fake, "I'm supposed to be studying."
Derek rolled his eyes. "All right, all right, make me a list."
Grinning to herself, Casey went into the kitchen and scribbled down a few items Derek would have trouble finding in a Mini Mart, plus some stuff that would be particularly embarrassing for a guy to ask for. Just for the heck of it. Besides, the longer he was away, the better.
"Here you go," Casey said as sweetly as possible, placing the list beside the couch. Derek mumbled a reply, having returned to his game.
She hurried upstairs, and went into her room. She closed the door and leaned against it. The music over the sound of muffled voices resumed. Then, sure enough, the game was put to pause again, and she heard a door slamming shut.
Checking herself in her mirror again, she took a deep breath, grabbed a lighter, and went down the stairs. She saw a part of Sam's slouched figure, his hat bobbing over the couch.
As soon as she reached the foot of the stairs, she flicked a switch, cloaking the living room in darkness.
"Hey!" she heard a voice say. She saw Sam groping around in the dark. Without making a sound, she went over to the two candles she had placed on the stand beside the couch and struck up a match. "I thought he'd never leave," she said, lighting the candles. The aroma of jasmine and lavender floated over the room.
"Cas—"
She cut him off, sitting down beside him on the couch. "Didn't I tell you once that you talk way too much?" she asked, placing her mouth gently over his. For a moment, Sam didn't do anything.
Then, he tried to push her off.
Casey was taken aback for a moment. She was his girlfriend after all.
"Casey," he whispered tightly when they broke off, alarmed.
"Shh," she whispered, brushing her lips over his ear. She felt him shudder slightly and smiled to herself. "Derek won't be back for an hour at least. I made sure of that."
"No, I—"
She cut him off again, kissing him harder. She felt him struggle, but she was the one on top here. Why was he struggling so much, anyway? No matter. She would just have to show him how much experience Casey McDonald had.
She bore her full weight on him, wrapping her arms around his neck, pushing him closer, deepening the kiss, letting her tongue run over his lips, begging entrance into his mouth. Sam, again, did nothing for a while … and then, slowly, he responded, returning the kiss gently at first and then full force.
She relaxed against him. They were meant for each other – she fitted perfectly against him, her body enveloped in his. I forgot how good of a kisser he was,she thought as she ran her hands through his hair. Did it get shorter somehow? No. She couldn't remember it looking cut. She was probably imaging things. They did make out only a couple of times, anyway. She just had to get used to the feel of him against her. And the way he smelled of peppermint, cinnamon, and Axe Bodywash. It made her dizzy and giddy at the same time. It was so — so unlike Sam!
That was when his face came into the candlelight. His hair did get shorter. And it wasn't blonde; it was brown!
With a yelp, she jumped off the couch. No! It couldn't possibly be.
"Derek?"
Author's Note: Like? Hate? Review please. I'll accept anything (I'll love you if you give me criticism) so long as it isn't a flame. :)
Disclaimer: Is this even necessary? If you don't know the meaning of fanfiction, now would be a good time to find out.
