Went because you said you'd be there, a box of candy, smoke in your hair…
Emily puts on make up until she sparkles. She wears clothes that are mostly conservative but with a hint of flirty about them. Sometimes she stops to talk to him and laughs breezily and reaches a hand out to touch his arm. Other times she passes him without a word, but glances over her shoulder with a half smile on her face. Always she gives him her notes when he's skipped class or decided not to pay attention, even taking time to explain some of the more complex concepts to him. Once she spent a whole summer learning French because she knew he would need a tutor come fall, and who better or more convenient than the girl next door (Derek Fantasy #2, "Derek Recognizes That His True Love Has Been Right Next Door All Along")? Never does she ask for anything in return except maybe some attention, which he rarely gives her.
But recently, she had been gaining ground. She was sure of it. Until, all within a span of two weeks, his dad got remarried, he got two stepsisters, and Emily got a new best friend. Suddenly he is paying lots of attention to her. Asking how her weekend was, whether she's going to the party on Friday night, if she agrees with him that Casey is the most annoying human being ever to have been born, and is she planning on coming to the party, too? No? Well, then, yes, he'll be going.
Friday night comes. Emily is sparkling more than usual, and her clothes are flirty with a hint of conservative. She listens to the satisfying click of her stilettos on the pavement as she approaches star forward Brad Harrington's house. She's thankful her shoes prevent her from scurrying to the door, instead forcing her to slow her steps into a sexy saunter.
She doesn't mind coming to the party alone. Casey isn't her only friend, after all. She'll know people there. She'll mingle and she'll dance. She'll laugh loudly and maybe she'll drink. When he looks at her, he won't see a shy, eager-to-please wallflower, but a confident, independent woman (Derek Fantasy #11, "Everything Derek Assumed About His Demure Neighbor, Emily, is Astonishingly and Delightfully Incorrect"). He'll be intrigued by the change. He'll be drawn to her, and if, no, when he asks her to dance, she'll shrug oh-so-casually and proceed to seduce him in time to the music. When he whispers in her ear, "Let's go upstairs," she'll smile mysteriously and shake her head, because he's used to getting everything he wants so easily. Obviously he's grown bored with it, and Emily can be challenging, too.
She enters the house, and as she takes off her coat, she scans the room. He's not here (the party is much too tame, the girls still scattered about the room instead of crammed into the space around him), but it's early. She makes her way to the drink table and mixes what she thinks is a cosmopolitan. She's glad there's liquor instead of just beer. She can mask the taste and smell of liquor, and it gets her drunker faster, providing the liquid courage she knows she'll need as the night progresses.
Two hours and six drinks later he still hasn't come (ha! Come—said the actress to the bishop) and the alcohol is making her a little freer with her dancing and a little perverted-er—perverted-er? Yeah, perverted-er—with her humor. She's danced with at least eight guys Casey wouldn't approve of (but who the fuck gives a fuck what Casey thinks anyway? She's tired of caring what Casey thinks. Fuck.), and now she's beat and ready to leave.
Somehow she makes it the two blocks home (though her stilettos desert her about halfway there, the traitors), and who should be sitting on the steps of his front porch smoking a cigarette but Derek Venturi himself. How perfect. Here she was, smashfaded, and sure to say something completely inappropriate and embarrassing to the guy who she has been waiting for all night and who didn't show up when he specifically said he was going to and why does he have to look so hot and so badass and so utterly unattainable, and so many things that would hurt her with their perfection if her feelings weren't smothered in alcohol.
She stumbles to a stop in front of him. His glance at her is so completely disinterested she almost gasps aloud. He flicks the cigarette away and lights another as she stands awkwardly in front of him, staring.
"Looks like you had a good time."
"Some." Does that answer even make sense? The ground is spinning, and words and meanings aren't connecting across the synapses. What the hell is a synapse, anyway? Listening to Casey study for her classes, classes Emily is not in, puts way too much information in her brain. Why does she even put up with that shit? Casey should study on her own time, not when she's supposed to be hanging around her best—
"Only some?" Oh yeah. There is another person here. She can't keep having conversations in her head. Emily tries to summon up what she hopes is a bold, flirtatious smile, but it's hard when it's so obviously a wasted effort.
"Well, I was hoping to run into someone there, but he never showed."
Derek takes a drag on the cigarette and turns his head to blow the smoke away from her. "That's too bad."
What does that mean? Is he just being polite? Is he avoiding her implication? Does he really just think that it's too bad? Emily shakes her head and tries to focus as she silently screams, See me. Please, for once, see me. See me and care.
"Why weren't you there?"
"There was a crisis."
"Oh my gosh, is everything okay?" This time, Emily reaches for his arm purely out of distress and not some design to create contact between them. She tries willing herself into sobriety, but that doesn't work very well. She stumbles again and Derek's other arm reaches for her hip to steady her. Just her luck, she's too drunk and too worried to enjoy it.
"Casey split a nail or broke up with her boyfriend or something and had to drag everyone into her drama. You know how it is." Yeah, she does. Casey was supposed to be studying all night. There should have been zero drama. She shouldn't even have been talking to Max long enough to break up with him. But this night was really important to Emily. Of course Casey would find a way to make it about her, unconsciously or not. And maybe that's an irrational thing to think, but Casey gets to be irrational all the time and everyone bows to her craziness and Emily is sick of getting lost in the storm. Maybe somebody should worry about her and her drama every once in a while.
Maybe Derek notices she's getting upset. Or maybe he's just being Derek—because when has he ever noticed her emotions before?—but he gives her a little tug and his arms come around her just a little bit, and she's so close to this boy who has been the object of her fascination for years, and she can't breathe and she's trying to focus because she knows this will never happen again and oh, man, it feels so good to be this close to him and—
"Emily, is that you?"
Shit. Casey stands in the doorway. The porch light she flipped on reveals smeared mascara and a splotchy face, but she still looks so damn perfect. Emily would give anything to hate her. But she sees the heartbreak in her eyes—even as those eyes narrow at Emily's proximity to Derek, who still has not released her—and she can't. Because Casey may be dramatic, but she really does feel everything she says she feels. Her life, Emily's pretty sure, is exhausting, and doesn't that just fucking suck for the people whose emotions exist on a more even keel?
She glances back at Derek and their eyes lock and finallyfinallyfinally he seems to be looking at her, really looking at her, as if his very life depended on it, except he's looking at her not with the lust and tenderness she's imagined, but with a kind of calculation, of determination. She's too drunk to interpret it, and he's tugging her even closer, so she couldn't care less. It's like he doesn't even notice Casey's come outside, and Emily forgets her, too. For the first time, Emily is the center of his world. She pushes her hips forward slightly in invitation, a move she has practiced many times with her bedroom wall playing Derek's role. Before she can even enjoy the sensation, Casey is at her side.
"Emily, are you drunk?"
Shit. Shit. Shit.
"Derek, what are you doing? For heaven's sake, can you not control yourself at all? Emily is obviously impaired, and you are taking! advantage! of her. Stop groping her, you Neanderthal!" The sobriety that's been threatening finally hits Emily full force. Casey shoves her way between them, and Emily can't pretend she doesn't see how obvious it is that Casey's pushing her away from Derek and not the other way around.
"Are you okay? What happened?" Casey's concern is genuine, and Emily feels a rush of love for her best friend. Casey may be selfish and self-absorbed sometimes, but she does truly care for her friends.
"Nothing's wrong." Emily pats her shoulder reassuringly. "I just had a little too much to drink at the party."
"Oh, Em." Casey tries her best not to look disapproving, but Emily doesn't care. She can disapprove all she wants so long as she leaves quickly and lets Derek and Emily get back to what they were doing.
Derek shoves Casey out of the way. "See, Head Case? She's fine. I wasn't taking advantage of anyone. Now leave while I walk Emily to her door." Ohgollyohgolly. He's walking her to her door. Oh golly. He gets up and grinds out his cigarette on the step. Emily's knees start to shake a little, but she takes a deep breath and smiles at her friend.
"I'll call you tomorrow, Case." Derek grasps her hand as they set off, and Emily thinks that this moment is all that she has imagined. Except it's not. This is not how it's supposed to be in Derek Fantasy #17, "Derek Walks Emily to Her Door After an Amazing Date." He's supposed to walk next to her and joke with her about the evening they've had together (except in reality, he didn't even show up for said evening). He's supposed to lead her oh-so-slowly to the door because he doesn't want their time together to end (except his grip is too tight and he's walking too fast, making her trip). He's supposed to stop on her porch, turn her toward him, and give her a good night kiss, a sweet little moment they can share together (except he's not looking at her or talking to her or acting like he even knows she's there). This is not how it's supposed to happen.
He stops in front of her porch, and she just catches herself from falling into him. He turns her toward him and looks into her eyes and everything is right again. This is it. This is it. He smiles at her. "Hey."
"Hey," she breathes.
"You gonna be okay?"
As long as you keep looking at me. "I think so."
"Okay, well, make sure you drink a lot of water and go to the bathroom a few times before you go to sleep, yeah?"
Anything, anything, just kiss me. "Sure thing." She leans forward a little, just enough to let him know she's willing, but not enough that she can't make a graceful exit if he's not into it. His eyes flicker to her lips, and he tucks a lock of hair behind her ears. Then he glances over her shoulders. She turns around.
Of course. That's why he didn't take her up onto the porch. He wanted to be in Casey's line of sight. He wanted her to see them together. Emily sucks in her breath, trying to control the disappointment threatening to overwhelm her. She imagines that Casey's hands had been on her hips as she waited impatiently for Derek to return so they could continue arguing.
But now she's turned away from them, back bowed, head down. One hand is on her hip, but the other is pressed to her face, as if she's trying to keep from crying. She looks so utterly defeated. Emily finally realizes what she's known all along but never wanted to admit. Her best friend and the boy she has been intensely crushing on for years are in love with each other. Hopelessly, helplessly, desperately, and even kind of tragically in love with each other. And now she knows what she has to do.
She turns back to Derek who is still only kind of looking at her. He keeps glancing back at Casey as if he wants to go to her but doesn't want to give in. So Emily makes the decision for him. "Thanks for walking me back, D. But I'm fine now."
"Are you sure? Because I could sit with you a little while if you needed."
"No. I want you to leave." His eyes widen.
"Excuse me?"
"You should go talk to Casey. She probably really needs you right now." She expects him to argue, to laugh and ask her why he should care if Casey's upset. But he doesn't.
"You're probably right." And he's off, loping back to his house. She watches as he reaches his stepsister and strokes her arm lightly. Casey looks up and immediately bursts into tears, throwing herself into his arms. Emily sighs and makes her way to her door. Here she is, once again the observer to someone else's drama. But as she climbs the steps, she smiles a little. Now she has Derek Fantasy #37, "Emily Bravely Sacrifices Her Own Happiness for Derek in Support of His Pursuit of True Love."
Ugh. I had to drag this story out of myself. I've been working on it for months and months. I really don't like it, but I don't know if that's because of its quality or because of the difficulty I had writing it. Either way, I hope y'all enjoyed the fourth story in my Unrequited Love series, a collection of unrelated fics about unrequited love! Be sure to go to my profile and check out the other three—So Nice, So Smart (Noel), Just Breathe (Casey), and Our Love (Sam), which I think are better than this one. And please review. Thank you!
DISCLAIMER: Life With Derek and the song "Bruised" by Ben Folds are properties of their respective owners. No copyright infringement is intended.
