A/N: This is going to be a pretty short story, I'm not sure yet if it's going to be 3 shot or 4 shot. Anyways, please read and review

Disclaimer: Don't own it

Incident 1

I'm Casey MacDonald, and I don't like changes. I keep things organized, and I plan out just about everything ahead of time. I like a routinely schedule, and things staying the way they are. When my life suddenly changes, I tend to freak out. When my mother got married to George, until I learned how to deal with everything my life was literally hell.

My school life is basically the same every day. Go to classes, ace the tests, gossip with my friend Emily, and talk to……

Max is walking towards me from the other end of the hall. My heart pumps hard as I think about what to say to him, the way I say them, the way I stand-

"Hey Casey." Max greets.

Just finishing a last minute hair check, I put on my perfect smile and greet him back.

"Want to go out for a drink or something tomorrow?"

"Oh yeah, sure, yeah I would love to!" I answer a little too quickly.

Max gives me a little obnoxious smile, which is sweet. "Well- I'll see you after school tomorrow then. See you."

I wave goodbye.

As soon as he was gone Emily catches up with me, "You're pretty red, Casey. What were you and Max talking about?" She glances at me curiously.

"He asked me out for a drink." I was in deep thoughts.

"You don't seem too happy about it."

"I don't know, I just feel like I don't know him. We never really talk about anything, even thought we go out and all that." I let out a sigh. What am I doing wrong here?

"Well, I don't know, you gotta talk to him." Emily shrugs as she opens her locker. "Maybe it's because you guys have too much in common, and it just gets boring. It's called opposites attract."

"But having things in common is a good thing!" I disagree loudly.

"Okay Casey! It was just a thought!"

I come home tired and worried. The rest of my day at school was spent in misery, thinking about Max and attempting to explain our relationship. My head never stops running, it wears me out.

Having changed into my pajamas and let my hair down from a bun, I walk into the living room, glad to see Derek sitting in his usual rocking chair, flicking through the channels. Arguing with him took my mind off things.

"Give me the remote, Derek," I walk over and say in a menacing tone, even though I'm not in the mood for TV at all.

Stuffing a handful of chips into his mouth, Derek turns and looks at me up and down, at my messy hair, baggy pajamas and the frustration in my face I didn't want to show, but he sees right through it, "Not doing so good today, are we, MacDonald?"

I give a cold look as I grab the remote from his hands.

"Oh my gosh, what do I do?" Derek makes a goofy face and mimics me in a high-pitched tone, "Max is soo cute! But he doesn't pay me enough attention!" Then he makes a face as if he is going to throw up.

"You are SO immature!" I throw the remote at him, looking extremely angry and storm upstairs into my bedroom, taking notice to slam the door loudly. I let out a sigh and sit down on my bed. Am I mad? Yes. Troubled? Yes. But for some reason a grin slips out at the corner of my mouth.