A/N: Written for GJ7B.X's 30 one shot challenge prompt 21: Scream. This is my first attempt at a second person narrative, let me know how it worked for you (or didn't).

Spoilers: WARNING – Includes spoilers from Make No Prom-ises which I gleaned while lurking on Live Journal. Also includes references to When Derek Met Sally.

Disclaimer: not mine

Anyone who ever loved could look at me
And know that I love you

- Anyone Who Had a Heart, Burt Bacharach

Unrequited

Perfect. Everything turned out simply perfect. Somehow you've transitioned from Klutzilla the super–keener to prom queen and the quarterback's girlfriend.

And you always wonder how that happened.

You couldn't have asked for a more perfect ending if you had scripted it, from the glittering dress to the glimmering tiara. Max has his strong arms around your waist and you bristle when he calls you his princess. Max doesn't notice how your body tenses, but noticing things has never been Max's strong suit.

There's a smile plastered across your face and you're sure every girl there thinks you've got this fairy tale life. But something inside of you is screaming that if Max is your prince charming, why is it always Derek who comes to your rescue?

Your mother insists on taking pictures when you finally come down in the new dress. Derek, so casually, flings his arm around your shoulder. You always wonder how he does that so often and still manages to come across as despising you. As his arm settles across your back, you resume the position, arm closest to him straight by your side, opposite arm across your abdomen so you can grip your elbow and no one will notice your knuckles turning white. From behind the camera, your mother criticizes.

"Casey, move your arms, I can't see your dress when you stand like that."

Doesn't she know? This is how you stand when Derek gets too close. Close enough to see that he missed a spot shaving. Because if you don't hold your arms down, you may just reach out and brush that spot under his chin with your thumb and how weird would that be?

But you're an obedient daughter so you loosen your grip and hope the eye roll and exacerbated huff are enough to conceal the goose bumps that appear when you slip your arm low behind his waist and smile for the photo. For one insane moment you find yourself pretending that this is your real life, and there are no dates waiting for the two of you back at SJS High. That when the flash fades, he would keep his arm across your back and whisper in your ear about how beautiful you look.

You jump away as soon as you hear the click and hurry through the door before he has a chance to open it for you, just in case. It is the most awkward ride to school you've ever had in your life. But Derek doesn't seem to notice, which is weird, because he's always ready to exploit whatever makes you uncomfortable.

Now you're pretending to smile and force a laugh when Max tries to dip you. But you're really watching him falling in love with her right before your eyes. And something inside of you is screaming that it's not fair! You realize you sound like a toddler, even in your mind, but at the moment, you don't care. You want to have a legitimate reason to hate her, like she's dumb or cruel or conceited, but really she's pretty and nice and witty and perfect for him so you hate her anyway.

The music plays on and you look up into Max's eyes. He's smiling down at you with perfect teeth and you feel dead inside. No passion, no fire, not even remote interest stirs.

You wonder how you ended up like this.

As you spin, you catch a glimpse of him looking at her in a way you were sure he'd only look at you. You're nauseous as he brushes hair out of her eyes and says something to make her laugh because she's just planted a soft kiss on that spot under his chin. And something inside of you is screaming, no… he's not supposed to love her, that look, that spot, those things are mine! Because they're all you're ever going to get.

She gets him, his breath on her neck and his hands on her skin. You hate her because she's beginning to understand him the way you were sure only you ever would. She calls him on his bullshit and rolls her eyes at his silly jokes. She's you, only blonder and less complicated. So you hate him for taking the easy way out instead of taking a chance with you. Because really, isn't it obvious to everyone?

Max is talking and you haven't heard a word, so you giggle and nod and decide maybe you're doing a better job at hiding your feeling than you thought.

For reasons you have yet to understand, the four of you have shared a limo. So you bounce from after party to after party together, yet not. You take the drink Max offers thinking it would help stop the rushing train of not-okay thoughts clamoring through your head. One sip and the nausea returns so you revert back to bottled water.

The parties are loud and mostly lame, so you end up walking the beach at Lake Huron. Max has lent you his jacket but it smells like it's been stored in mothballs since the turn of last century and you think you'd rather just be cold. You're trying to come up with a convincing argument for turning around to follow Derek and Sally, but even in your head the reasons are all about your need to know what he's saying to her so you just carry your sandals and stay silent.

Max is rambling about stars and eyes and oceans and something inside you is screaming to just end it already and get on with your life. But its post- prom, your royal picture is for sure going to end up in the year book and why taint that memory unnecessarily? It's not as if you can have what you want anyway.

And you wonder when you became one of those girls.

Back in the limo, you have the first genuine laugh of the night when you try to go through the 24 hour drive through for fries and sodas and end up not being able to get the car around that tight corner from the speaker to the window. Your tears from laughing are just beginning to fall when Derek puts his hand on her knee and kisses her temple. A few tears still come, you're just not laughing when they do.

Finally, you're home. Dawn is threatening to break as you climb the stairs. He's beside you, a step behind and you find yourself pretending again. He's walking you to your door and this is the real end to the real date, the other stuff; that was just cover for this clandestine affair. But he walks right past you to his own door.

You look at his door, then your own and wonder if he is ever kept awake at night by your breathing the way you are by his. Even though you realize there is no logical way you can hear him breathing through the wall, late at night you know you do.

"Night, Case." He says and your heart jumps out of your throat so you can hand it to him. Inside you're screaming Why her when I loved you first? But you just say good night and crawl into bed. You watch the patch of sky outside your window grow progressively lighter and listen to him breathing while you contemplate the screaming in your mind.

And you wonder if it will ever stop.

Fin