NOTES: Welcome to the next installment - also known as 'where extended metaphors come to die. Slowly.' Anyway someone told me that this is maybe more of a T rating (I am SO bad with rating things), so I'm changing it - hopefully that's appropriate for this chapter as well. Thanks very much to everyone who commented :)
DISCLAIMER: Made for fun, not profit. I don't claim any ownership of LWD.
It goes something like...
One: Observation of Formalities
"You? Again? Must be my unlucky day."
"Trust me, in this scenario I am definitely the unlucky one."
"Unlucky, unbalanced, unhinged...no argument here." (It doesn't matter if their delivery is awkward – they're following the script, that's the important thing).
Two: Presentation of Problem/Issue
"Where's my cell phone? And – have you...done...anything to it? Wait – don't answer that...I really don't want to know about the horrible, disgusting things you've probably done to it. But if it's been anywhere near your toilet – trust me, I will know! And I will make you" –
"Want to dial it down a little, Head-Case? Last I checked, it was in my pocket."
"Oh. That's – like something a normal, civilized human being would do." (There's a pause). "...you broke it, didn't you?"
Three: Resolution of the Problem/Issue
"Okay, this is the part where you give me whatever is left of my cell phone."
"For the last time, I did not break your cell phone. Which – also for the last time – is still in my pocket." (...and there goes the ante, rocketing skywards).
"Then give it to me!" (...and of course, Casey misses it).
"Make me."
"What?"
(How can she not get this? Phone, pocket, 'come and get it' taunting ...it's not subtle!)
"I am not putting my hand in your pants!"
"Then I guess you're going to have to start thinking creatively, because I'm not giving it back."
(It still startles him when her hand reaches out).
Four: Avoiding the Aftermath
"So where did you put it?"
"I...can't believe you're asking that question. Okay – boy parts and girl parts...think of them like – a jigsaw" – (only, you know, fun)
"Phone! My cell phone! Where did you put it?"
"I told you, it's in my pocket."
"I have evidence to the contrary." (She has conducted a thorough and exhaustive investigation)
"Yeah...I never said it was in those pants."
(And here comes the Freak Out, followed by the Talk)
"So..." (okay, they're starting with the Talk. That's fine too). "This...is still...not a big deal, right?"
(He'd ask her to repeat that, but she's talking so slowly it's impossible for him to have misheard)
"Of course not," he agrees (it's not?). "Just one of those things." (Yeah. One of those random occurrences...that require organisation, quick thinking and lots of preparation).
"Yeah. That's...what I thought."
(Funny. He'd kind of thought there'd be a Freak Out, followed by a Talk, resulting in the drawing up of a Relationship Treaty).
(He's totally fine with this though. Surprised. But fine).
So – most sequels are disappointing. They just can't live up to the hype and anticipation. Usually he ends up outside the movie theatre thinking, "Well, that was a waste of Edwin's money" (unless the special effects are really good).
It's not his fault that 'Derek – Give Me Back My Cell Phone!' (the follow up to the low-budget-but-crowd-pleasing 'Shut Up'), delivers on its promise to deliver bigger and better explosions. He was expecting (that's almost the same as 'hoping for', right?) a disappointment. But, actually, the truth is – they've got a franchise on their hands. Sequels, prequels, Return of the Thing, The Thing Strikes Back, The McDonald Menace (he could go on) – their material is epic.
And if George Lucas has taught him anything, it's that when life hands you a franchise, you squeeze it until it's dry.
The thing (it's not a problem, it's just a...thing), is his co-star. A little persuasion and Casey's there – saying all the lines, doing all her own stunts (and say what you will about the artistic merit of 'Adventures on the Kitchen Table' – Casey turned in an amazingly...flexible performance). But...there's no contract. It's easy come (easy go), with no discussion of why 'Derek and Casey' is suddenly an NC-17 rated feature.
No Talk. Not one little 'What does this mean?' (he had at least five quality comebacks prepared for that one). No freaking-out, no 'What will our parents think?' Personally, he thinks they should be thrilled – Casey and he have finally discovered a cooperative activity they both enjoy (...yeah, that one's never going to fly).
No, instead, Casey practices selective amnesia.
It's not that it bothers him (it doesn't. Really), but...it's not Casey's style(lessness). Seriously, if there's one thing Casey isn't, it's casual. Casey needs order and structure and definition – if she were an inanimate object, she'd be a label-maker. There is no way she's suddenly okay with them being...whatever they are.
(It's not that he wants a label, but it would come in useful. Purely for the purpose of description).
So Casey-faking-casual (about as well as Casey fakes anything)...is a trap. A trick. A strategy. This is Casey, working the game.
Apart from being obvious, it's a really dirty tactic (He should be impressed, right?)
He opens the door to Psychology: An Introduction (Second Edition). Casey walks in, still reading, and drops onto the couch.
He'll give her points for trying – it looks like she's completely uninterested in his presence. She seems totally absorbed, turning pages and frowning in concentration.
"Okay, I know finding out what's wrong with you is a gigantic task, but did you at least manage to narrow it down?"
Casey's eyes meet his over the top of the book. "Oh, I think I've located the source of the problem."
And see, this is the part he hates. This is Casey's payoff for pretending they aren't...whatever they are (seriously – they've had sex four times...is it too much to want a one word definition of what that makes them?). Because every time, he has to ask.
If they were officially 'going out' (as opposed to unofficially 'staying in'), he'd be her boyfriend. He's been a boyfriend before – he knows how it works. His favorite part about being a boyfriend? The part where he doesn't have to get permission (in a roundabout way) before he touches the object of his...touching.
Instead, he has to spend his time thinking up new ways to ask (beg) Casey to let him touch her body – ways that, ideally, don't sound like asking (begging).
"You know, Freud's theory on divisions of the mind is fascinating," Casey says, head bent over her book. "Especially when you know someone who's completely id-driven." She looks up and raises her eyebrows at him for the last part.
Yeah – just because she's basically disguised her insult with a monocle and top hat, doesn't mean he doesn't get it.
"Word of advice?" he offers. "Don't try to analyse me."
"Why? Because you're so complicated?" An un-necessary eye-roll.
(Yeah. And because if he stands any chance of winning this game, he's got to keep her guessing).
...and now he wants a re-take. Because it's just occurred to him that Casey gave him the perfect opening for a line where he offers her some quality couch time to examine his...issues. Smooth (and most importantly, even if it still feels like begging, it probably doesn't sound like it).
He starts looking for a way to Freudian-slip that line into the conversation...and...why does he even need an opening? His stomach is twisting. He hates having to ask. If he has to ask, there's always the possibility that the answer will be 'no'.
But that's being stupid (four times. Four times is not nothing). Because it's not like it was in London. It's not like Casey has nowhere else to go. So, what, she just came all the way over to his place – to ignore him? (She can market it however she wants...he's not buying that).
He's calling her bluff.
"So," he says, dropping down next to her on the couch. "You couldn't read at your place?"
She stiffens and tries to edge away.
"Jenna had people over" –
"And she kicked you out? Smart girl. Still, it's kind of funny that, of all the places you could go – you ended up here."
She doesn't say anything, so he leans closer and says, right into her ear, "Come on Casey, we both know why you're here." (He sounds amused, but he just wants her to admit it already so that he can stop digging his fingernails into his palms and let his hands loose on her).
Casey swallows and turns her head slowly (this is It) to face him. "You know? They told you?"
"I know. They told" – he agrees before his brain catches up. He pauses. "Who told me what now?"
"George and mom," she says. "For some weird reason they seem to think that you might not be taking college as seriously as you should and" –
"They asked you to check up on me," he realizes. There's suddenly a bitter taste at the back of his throat (this is a chore for Casey?). "I don't need a babysitter." The words snap out of his mouth.
"No," she says (he hates that smug, Casey-knows-best tone), "You don't want a babysitter. That's not the same thing."
He wishes he could move away from her, but he can't – not without making it completely obvious. Instead, he picks up the remote and switches on the television, and stares blindly at it (this is completely what his goal was when he sat down and Casey can't prove otherwise).
He can feel her looking at him (stop it), and he says, "If I promise not to run with scissors or eat paste, will you leave?"
"Derek..." she says, and puts her hand on his arm.
He can't stop himself from looking at her then. She's frowning, pressing her lips together, and he feels a stab of hope when she takes a deep breath and says, "I" –
Of course, that's as far as she gets, because the door is suddenly opening, and Casey practically breaks the sound barrier whipping away her hand before his room-mate walks in.
"Hey Derek – oh, hi, Casey." (He'd remember Casey's name too, if his first introduction involved being knocked to the ground by her as he was arriving through the door).
"Hi Jerry!" she says, way too brightly.
And of course, Jerry joins them, because he doesn't realize what he's interrupting, given that after introducing Jerry's face to the floor, Casey's conversation had gone something like, "I am so sorry! Are you all right?! Casey. I'm Casey. Stepsister – Derek's. Derek's stepsister. Do you need some ice?"
Apparently, this gives him the right to squash in next to Derek and talk through him, to Casey (cause, hey, it's not like he's interrupting a couple or anything, right?)
"You're really getting down to it," he says, leaning forward and talking past Derek (sorry, is his face in the way there?)
Casey starts, and Derek closes his eyes (there is nothing lamer than Casey faking casual) as Jerry gestures towards Psychology: An Introduction (Second Edition). "Studying," he clarifies. "It looks interesting."
That makes Derek narrow his eyes suspiciously. Because – no, it doesn't. It looks like a yawn in hardback form.
Casey falls for it though. "It is! The human mind is fascinating."
"I'll bet!" (says the guy Derek is convinced only has half a brain). "Tell me some more."
Five minutes into the differences between psychology, behavior and mind, and he has to get away (because, hey, it turns out there is something lamer than Casey faking casual – and that's Jerry, faking smart).
He goes to the kitchen and gets a drink and doesn't think about Casey hanging out with him – because his dad and Nora asked her to (babysitting). It's not...he knows the whole sex thing is separate, and has nothing to do with his dad or Nora (though it does put some horrific visuals in his head – thanks, Casey!). Just – he'd thought she was coming by because... (it doesn't matter. It doesn't matter so much, he's not going to bother finishing the thought).
When he heads back, it takes less than ten seconds for him to realize that he doesn't like the scene playing out on the couch. It goes something like –
" – should start cracking the books myself. It's just...hard to get motivated, you know what I mean?"
(Of course Casey doesn't know what he means. She was probably born clutching a bibliography for further reading)
" – chose English, because, you know, I speak it – I figured, hey, how hard can it be? And then I start attending the classes and it's like...English, but not as I know it." He grimaces, and continues, "And this thing we're studying...I just – don't get it."
Derek has a bad feeling about where this conversation is going to go. Casey has trouble staying out of things when she's explicitly told to keep out. Someone admitting they need help – that's like handing her a gilt-edged invitation to interfere.
"Oh, what are you studying?" (The clueless keener sitting next to him. Isn't it obvious?)
"It's called uh – Equus?" (Yeah, that's not what he called it yesterday)
"That is such a great play! It's really dark and powerful" –
"Yeah –dark. Powerful," Jerry agrees. "If only I could understand it. You...seem really up to speed with the whole thing..."
"Actually...Equus is a fascinating psychological study as well. If you want, I could" –
(Okay, this improvisation has gone too far)
"Equus?" Derek says thoughtfully (but casually). "Isn't that the book you called 'horse-porn' yesterday?"
(And...cut)
"That's – not...I mean, I didn't – say that...exactly."
"It's okay," Casey says. "I know Derek – it's all about the lowest common denominator with him. Plus he lives to twist other people's words." (Except when those words are already twisted – then he just uses direct quotation!)
(Come on – cut!)
"Well, maybe – I mean, if you're not too busy – maybe you could help me make sense of this whole dark psychological drama?"
(Scene change! Scene change NOW!)
Casey's eyes flick to his then away, so quickly he can't read her expression. "Like...tutor you? Yeah – that would be great! I mean...I could do that. Tutoring. Let me just check my schedule, and we can organize a mutually convenient time!"
(And Derek can use that mutually convenient time to kill himself! Awesome!)
"Um – great!" Jerry says. Casey extracts her day planner and he looks kind of taken aback (though that's nothing compared to how Derek feels. He's the director – he doesn't remember authorizing this).
Afterwards, when she's gone, Jerry trails after Derek and asks, casually, "So, is your stepsister seeing anyone?"
"Casey? Oh yeah," Derek says. (When did this turn into a crappy romantic comedy? And why is he playing the role of the loser-best-friend?)
"Oh. Really? Cause I kind of got the impression" –
"Since highschool," he continues. "I mean, issues like Casey's? They take years to resolve."
"Yeah – I was kind of speaking in a social sense. As in – does she have a boyfriend?"
She doesn't have a boyfriend – and Derek doesn't have a girlfriend. He has a Casey – and trying to make sense of that is like trying to make jello without a mold or container...an impossible mess.
"Don't ask me," he says finally (he's just the guy she sometimes has sex with).
So, he has this fantasy. It's not exactly original – as a matter of fact it's the kind of fantasy that's so clichéd it comes with a sleazy sax porno soundtrack, but...
She's in a school uniform, and he's wearing a sports coat and tie. She's standing by his desk with a binder clasped to her chest, and he's marking papers (but really, he's making her wait).
Finally, he looks up and says, "Yes?"
"Mr Venturi – can we discuss the grade you gave me on the paper I handed in?"
"Is there a problem?" he leans back in his chair.
"You gave me a B." (Casey's grade might just be the most implausible thing in this whole scenario. And that's saying something).
"And you need to discuss this because..."
"I'm a straight A student."
"Not anymore," he points out.
She bites her lip in thought, and did he mention that her shirt is thin, and he can see –
"Mr Venturi, my grades are really important to me. Maybe, I could...write the paper again?" she smiles winningly at him.
"Maybe I don't want to correct another paper," he says, getting to his feet.
She puts her hand on his chest, to stop him from passing her – and he looks down when she just leaves it there.
"There has to be something...an extra-credit assignment – whatever you want...I'll do it."
Obviously, there's more. There's the part where he lifts her onto the desk, and he slides her pleated skirt up her thighs, and she pulls off his tie with this soft swishing sound – and the sax music cranks up a notch and suddenly, he's teaching Sex 101.
(But the truth is – it's the way she looks at him...intense, totally concentrating – like he's a test she has to ace, like he's a book she's studying...that's what does it for him, every time).