If ever there was a more horrible weekday to be created, it was Monday. Even the way it sounded was awful. Mon… day… Derek Venturi sounded out the hated word in his head, trying to figure out a way to possibly make it sound more appealing. Instead, it simply became more appalling. But he somehow managed to achingly make his way out of bed, thunder down the stairs, and get a gulp of milk right from the carton; only, he was fifteen minutes late, a fact not to be overlooked by his new stepsister, Casey MacDonald. Well, not really new, not anymore. Their parents had been married around a year now, he guessed. They were almost at the end of their eleventh grade year.
"Fifteen! Fifteen minutes late – Derek, I'm not going to be late for school today. Not when reviews are starting." She was referring to the fact that their junior finals were coming up – and some teachers actually cared enough to review the materials of the past semester. A concept that completely evaded Derek.
"Hey, if I didn't get it the first time, why should I run to try and hear old news again?"
"I have a feeling that you didn't hear it the first time…" Casey mumbled grudgingly under her breath, and thankfully Derek managed to not hear that either.
"Alright, guys! Weekend's over, back to the grindstone!" George merrily proclaimed loudly in the kitchen, slapping Derek on the back as Derek rolled his eyes.
"Why do they call it the grindstone?" Lizzie asked curiously.
"Probably because of the society's ever developing and constantly changing idioms," came Edwin's voice from the couch.
"Because Daddy likes grinding," Marti said simply, much to the amusement of Derek, who snorted into his cereal.
"Not funny Derek," George retorted, face mildly flushed.
"Whatever. I've gotta take a shower then we can go, Case."
"No! No time for showers! It's time to leave!"
"Do you want me to smell like rotting road kill?"
"As long as I get to class on time, you can smell like anything you want."
"Well… I'm still taking a shower, just give me a minute." Insufferable girl. Casey's always so – so commanding!
"Argh!" And with that exclamation, Casey settled into the old, faded, couch; she pulled out a book and started studying. Ridiculous boy. What Derek wants, Derek gets.
A little over five minutes later, Derek came trundling back down the stairs, shaking his head and sending droplets of water all over Casey, much to her dismay.
"Derek! I am not going to school all wet!"
"Too late to change now, if you do, we'll be late." With that horrible prospect looming in Casey's view, she simply muttered a curse under her breath and strode out the door, heading for the car.
"Language, language Case – you'd better watch what you say."
"Like you've got an angelic tongue."
"That's what the girls say."
"You disgusting… You know what? Let's just get going." What Derek wants… I can't even finish an argument with him anymore.
"Okay." Commander Casey…I can't even find the effort to get a decent comeback.
In the hallways after first period, which Casey reached just in time sprinting and Derek meandered in only a couple of minutes late, friends mingled and talked about their weekend. Casey however, grumbled about missing homeroom and announcements.
"I can't believe I missed the daily announcements. I depend on them! Not only that, but that homeroom absence is a spot on my record. And if I'm stuck with Derek much longer, it'll blossom into a ever growing, menacing stain. That simply cannot happen, Emily. It just can't!" Closing her locker with a huge swing, she waved her arms around wildly in frustration.
"Don't worry so much, Case. It's not like universities are going to reject you because your stepbrother is a royal pain, no matter how hot he is."
"Please, please stop calling him hot. If I have to hear it one more time I think I'll explode – and I'd rather not cover the school with Casey guts. I mean, I'm already a Grade-Grubbing Klutzilla, aren't I?"
"You're just Casey, nothing else. Anyways, people are starting to forget about that now – it's been months since you've done anything too odd, right? But that's besides the point, you missed the best party Sunday afternoon…" Emily said cheerily. "Honestly, I thought I would dance until my feet fell off. I heard it went on until at least midnight."
"You know I don't do that sort of thing on Sundays. I had studying to do last night, and anyways, if there was ever a more entertaining day of the week, it's Monday. It just sets the standard for the rest of the week. Too bad Derek ruined mine, again."
A little ways down the hall, that same Monday-spoiling, girl grabbing, suave and sarcastic Derek was leaning on the wall, talking with a few of his friends, watching the girls as they scurried by with lust plain in their eyes, giggling ferociously and batting their eyelashes.
"Oh yeah, the party was so awesome – I would have stayed out way later, but I knew my parents would flip. Anyways, it's Monday, the worst day of the week; Casey was sure to ruin it, all over again."
Author's Note: So, this will end up being Dasey (of course, right?) and though I love fluff, this is Dasey ANGST. Please beware. I'm not sure how much angst, nor am I sure of length, but this is your heads up. Review, let me know if you have any ideas. I want to head in one general direction, but if you want something to happen, let me know. I can always fiddle with things.