Author's note: The first chapter had 32 reviews. That amazes me. You guys are way too good to me. Really, I love you all. I'm sorry this took so long to come out, this week ended up busier than I thought it would. This chapter starts in Casey's PoV then switches to Derek's at the line.

Hope you guys enjoy it!

Disclaimer: I did a lot of things this week, but purchasing LwD was not one of them.

Casey flopped down on her bed, she'd just reorganized everything in her desk and alphabetized every CD she owned. Casey didn't sit still very often and she wasn't handling her post-wisdom-teeth removal orders to stay in bed and relax well. It had been three days, the pain had subsided and Casey was starting to go a little stir crazy. She was considering arranging all her books by genre when Derek opened her door and dropped something on the floor behind him with a thud.

"Would it kill you to knock?" she asked, shooting him a glare.

"You know it just might, and can you imagine how guilty you would feel then? I'd knock on your door, in a valiant attempt to respect your wishes, and I'd drop over dead." He said, smirking and leaning against her door frame.

"Unfortunately for us both, I'm pretty sure there are no recorded cases of death from door knocking," She said, trying to conceal her smile.

"There's a first time for everything." He said.

"Did you want something Derek?" Casey asked, rolling her eyes.

"Yes actually, I'd like to get rid of this massive pile of your homework I'm carrying around," he said.

"You have my homework? Oh thank God!" She said clapping her hands.

"Did you just clap for homework?" He asked, looking appalled, "that might just be the saddest thing I've ever seen."

"I was going stir crazy! This will give me something to do." She said defensively.

"You're hopeless." He said, reaching behind him to pick up her homework up off the floor. He walked into her room and dropped the pile on her bed. "Seriously, this is more work than I've done all year."

"Somehow, that doesn't surprise me," she said dryly.

"Ha-ha," he said sarcastically, "I'll let you and your precious homework have some alone time now," he said, smirking.

"Cute." She said. He turned to leave them room then stopped at her door.

"Hey Casey-"he began, then stopped.

"Yes?" she asked, glancing up at him.

"Never mind," he said, glancing away quickly. Casey rolled her eyes at his retreating form then pulled the large stack of papers onto her lap.

"Oh no," she whispered looking at the first paper, "No," she said again, trying to fight off her rising panic. A creative writing assignment, an unsent letter, was sitting on top of the stack. They had been instructed to write about someone or something they had unresolved or unstated feelings towards. So Casey had written down all the things she felt for Derek but knew she could never say. It seemed safe at the time to write down that she loved him, but now that the words were staring back at her in Times New Roman from a sheet of paper Derek had held in his hands minutes earlier, all her security vanished.

Do not panic. She instructed herself firmly. Maybe it wasn't so bad. Maybe he hadn't read it at all; maybe it was just a coincidence that it was on top. Maybe he'd only read part of it, or he maybe had read it, but not seen the sheet explaining the assignment. Maybe he didn't realize it was about him. Maybe she could make up a really good lie.

Derek grinned to himself as he sat down at the dinner table that night. Casey kept looking at him as though she was trying to read his mind. He had considered just confronting her about the letter, but the more he thought about it, the more fun making her squirm for a little while seemed. So he'd made a copy on his Dad's fax machine then made sure the original was on the top of the stack of papers he gave her. He was hoping she'd come to him, but if not, he figured it would at least be amusing to see what she did do.

"So Casey, how are feeling?" Nora asked after everyone had food on their plates.

"Much better Mom, thank you," Casey said, smiling faintly

"I saw that Derek brought your work home, did you get any big tests back or anything?" Nora asked.

"No tests, but I did a get couple of assignments I struggled with back," Casey said, looking nervous. Derek smirked.

"Oh really, like what honey?" Nora asked.

"Well, like this thing for creative writing, we had to pretend we were these fictional characters and write these letters from their perspective, I had a hard time getting in to the character I was assigned," Casey said, fidgeting with her hands as she talked. It took all of Derek's self control not to burst out laughing, she really was the worst liar ever. She couldn't even come up with a halfway believable lie, it was almost sad.

"Really?" He asked catching her eyes, "That's funny, because a buddy of mine, Alan, takes creative writing and he was complaining all last week about some letter writing assignment and how personal he was supposed to make it," Derek said smoothly. Casey looked like she was going to be ill.

"You and your friends talk about homework?" Edwin asked skeptically, raising an eyebrow and making Lizzie laugh.

"Normally? No," Derek said, "But he was having a lot of trouble with how much emotion he was expected to convey."

"If he's not good at conveying emotion, creative writing probably wasn't the best class choice for him," George put in.

"Probably not," Derek agreed pleasantly. He noticed that Casey was pushing food around her plate with her fork and staring at the table.

"I wanna talk about my day now!" Marti demanded from her end of the table. Derek only half listened as Marti went on to describe her day in great detail. Clearly, Casey wasn't going to come to him, he'd have to be the one to start this conversation.

Derek let himself into Casey's room after dinner ended; it was time to confront her.

"That was weak Casey," he said, walking over and sitting on her bed. She turned around on her computer chair and regarded him warily.

"As usual, I have no idea what you're talking about." she said in bored voice, but he saw a flicker of apprehension in her eyes.

"We both know I saw that letter, and the explanation of the assignment," he said.

"And you assumed it was about you?" she asked, clearly trying to make it sound like this was a ridiculous idea.

"It was pretty obvious." he said.

"What makes you so sure?" she asked.

"Well for one, the fact that I can read," he said rolling his eyes, "that, plus your pathetic, 'it was fiction' lie downstairs, makes me one hundred percent positive," he said.

"God, you're so vain Derek, I can't believe you think I would write that about you," she said, attempting to sound angry.

"And I can't believe you think your sad little Carly Simon defense is going to fool me," he said.

"Carly Simon defense?" she questioned raising her eyebrows.

"I'm so vain, I probably think this letters about me?" he said singing his words to the tune of the classic song.

"Well if the song fits…" she said.

"Seriously, will you stop? Give it up Casey." Derek said.

"No." she said stubbornly, refusing to look at him.

"You can't just say no!" he said, half amused, half exasperated by her unwillingness to be honest with him.

"Sure I can," she said, "If I do, then we don't have to have the conversation you're trying to start."

"But that doesn't get us anywhere. I'm trying to talk to you here. I want to have this discussion." he said, not sure why she was behaving this way.

"I don't" she said, still not meeting his eyes.

"I think it's too late for that," he said, getting more annoyed by the second.

"Not really, talking takes two, and if I refuse, you're out of luck," She said.

"Why are you doing this? Will you at least look at me?" he asked.

"Look Derek," she said, finally looking up, "I know what you're gonna say ok? I'm in no mood for rejection and the awkwardness to follow. Can't we just pretend today never happened?" she asked.

"Rejection?" he questioned, thrown by her statement, "Casey I-"

"Just don't Derek," she said.

"But I was going to say, I mean-" he began, then stopped, when he realized he wasn't sure what he wanted to say, this conversation wasn't going at all the way he'd thought it would.

"Please, just go," she said getting up to open her door. He thought about staying and pushing the issue, but he knew he would end up saying the wrong thing. She'd thrown his train of thought off, and he needed sometime to think. She seemed to think he wanted to make fun of her for what she'd written, and that hadn't been his intent at all. He left her room and she slammed the door behind him.

Once in his own room, he sat on his bed to think. It hadn't occurred to him that she would be so opposed to talking to him about what she'd written. He grabbed the letter off his nightstand and reread it. She had written,

"I know that even if circumstances were different, you wouldn't want me"

He had skimmed over that line before, but now after talking to her it seemed really important. She had no idea how he felt about her. He got the impression that even had he just come out and told her, she wouldn't have believed him. The truth was, he loved her too, he'd loved her for years. He'd always been terrible at expressing his real feelings; it terrified him to be that vulnerable. When he'd read her letter, he'd planned out their conversation in his head. She was supposed to have admitted it, and looked embarrassed but hopeful. Then he'd planned to grin at her and say something like, "the feelings mutual." Then she'd smile and then they'd make out and live happily ever after. It had all been so simple in mind. Now he knew it would take more than three words on his part to settle it. He was going to have to find the perfect words, and present them in the prefect way.

End Chapter.