A/N: Derek's POV this time.

Disclaimer: Okay, then… So my conquest of Canada didn't go so well… -tosses away paper reading 'Lunatic fangirl tries to take over Canada'- So I STILL don't own LWD.

------------------

Blast From the Past

Chapter Three—Desperation

By VirgoMaiden

------------------

Derek Venturi was over 17 years old. He was also the star—captain and forward—of the hockey team, and had a scholarship coming his way. He had a different girl every week (or…day…). And yet here he was, sulking, in his room, blasting his music to annoy a certain stepsister and pretending to read his magazine.

He was acting like a little kid and he honestly couldn't care less.

What is their problem? He thought angirily, flipping a page and nearly tearing it in the process. Treating me like that! Just like that jerk, Max. I don't care what Casey told them about me, it's still rude!

Oh, and you're one to talk, a voice (reminscent of Casey's, he noticed) replied evenly in his head. Look, Der, you knew the day would come when someone would pick Casey over you!

Not true! he thought indigniantly, almost in his typical "fight" tone. Them picking Casey over me has nothing to do with this.

Yes, it does, the voice answer forcefully. Face it, Der, you're jelous. Jealous that Casey had the life you have and a bag of chips.

First of all, he thought, jealously is for losers. Second, Casey thinks that chips are too fatty, so it's more like a 'rice cake.' And third, I'm tired of this conversation.

With that he cranked the volume higher and decided to think of other things in order to empty his mind.

How about Vicky? He mused. She and her cattiness can definitely distract me! What's her problem, anyway? What's the deal between her and Casey? I thought that they had finished it at the wedding.

No, not likely, he decided almost immediately. Girls can hold a grudge. And Icky Vicky's petty enough to.

He considered this for a minute more. And who's that 'Drake' guy that they mentioned? And ex of Casey's? Probably not, though; we would've heard about him if he was…

Maybe one of those 'unrequited' things? he thought curiously. Casey looked sad enough…and Vicky was eager enough to point him out…

He sat up, irritated. "No more," he muttered. "This is complicated…making my head hurt."

The door opened to his room, then, and he gazed at the intruder, unimpressed. The only one brave enough to do that was Casey. And Marti. But he was pretty sure that he could hear her from her kitchen helper spot in the kitchen.

And it was Casey, as fate would have it. She stood before him, hands on her hips, glaring him down with all her might. He stared back, meeting her ferocity with what he knew would be an irritating smirk.

She fumed for a few seconds longer. "Do you mind?" she finally yelled. "I've been pouning on your door for ten minutes. But your eardrums are too wasted to hear anything that isn't a guitar riff!"

(Oh, this would be almost too easy…)

"What?" he yelled, cocking his head. "I can see your mouth opening and closing, but… I don't hear any words!"

Casey glared at him murdously. "Whatever. See what I get for telling you that dinner is ready." With that, she stalked out only to yell, "And turn down your music, you menace!" at his door.

Derek smiled and turned it down obediantly. It was nice to know that some things just wouldn't change when Casey was involved.

------------------

Dinner, for the most part, went without a hitch.

Until, of course, Casey decided to open her big mouth.

"Just guess who we saw at the mall today, Mom?" she gushed. Lizzie joined her in her choruses of "you wouldn't believe it."

Nora smiled. "I'm sure I can't," she said, spooning some spaghetti onto her plate.

"The girls!"

Nora raised her eyebrow, not looking at Casey. "What girls?" she asked.

"Noelle and Caty! And Sarah and Jessica!"

Nora's eyes widened. "That is a surprise," she murmured, giving her salad some much-needed dressing.

"They're in town and doing a show!" she exclaimed. "The Nutcracker! Can we go?"

"Please!" Lizzie added, leaning forward. "We might not see them again 'till forever!"

"I'd be willing to go," Edwin said, trying to sound uninterested. Derek rolled his eyes, knowing that Edwin wanted to see the quartet—almost as much as Lizzie and Casey.

"What's the Nutcracker?" Marti piped up. She had, surprisingly, been oretty quiet until now.

"It's—'' Lizzie began, but was plowed right through by Casey.

"Come on, Mom! George! Marti doesn't know what the Nutcracker is, and it's a major cultural aspect!"

"Pop culture," Edwin corrected automatically.

"—What he said—Please!" she wheedled.

Nora and George gave each other a look. Derek smirked inwardly. That look, he knew, was a doubtful one. One that meant they were going to be taking a vote.

"Well…" George began slowly, nervously. He cleared his throat. "What do you think, Derek? We haven't heard what you think yet…"

"I dunno…" he said, drawing it out. "I mean, an evening at home, watching hockey, eating junk food, or out in nice—itchy, I might add—clothes, watching people mime across a stage… Such a difficult choice…"

"Whatever he says will be overruled, right?" Casey asked, almost frantically, looking from George to Nora quickly. "I mean, democracy! What would be this ouse be without democracy?"

"Better," Derek said evenly, giving her a triumphant stare. He smirked and watched Casey unconsciously flick her bangs out of her eyes.

"Oh, yeah? Why's that?" she challenged.

"Because what little influence you have would be overruled."

Casey frowned. "Oh, and in that little world," she said, gesturing her hands wildly, "you probably don't get rejected by four girls all at once."

Derek's eyes narrowed. She was playing to win now, and she knew it. "That has nothing to do with this," he said quickly, ignoring the questioning looks from the parents and Marti.

"Yes, it does," casey said forcefully, standing up now. He stood up too, without realizing it, to match her gaze. "You just can't stand not being a total and complete stud to every girl you happen to meet. Being rejected. You don't know how to deal with it, do you?"

"Like you can talk," he snapped back. "Falling apart when Vicky said --''

("You saw Vicky?" Nora said curiously. "When?"

"Not now, Nora," Edwin said, then turning to Lizzie. "Lizzie—two days of dishes says that Casey's gonna cry."

Lizzie scowled. "I'm not stupid enough to take that bet.")

"Shut UP!" Casey screamed. "Don't you dare say—''

"What?!" Derek asked, feigning innocence and throwing his arms out to the side. He might be shooting an underhanded remark, but she had no right to say what she did. "You mean—"

"GAH!" Casey yelled, interrupting him. She reached down, picking up a dinner roll, and flung it at him. "Stop it!"

"CASEY!" Nora yelled, in sudden sync with George's "DEREK!"

The two teens stopped arguing almost instantaneously. There was an eerie scilence in the air as the two standing surveyed the room. Lizzie, Edwin, and Marti were avoiding their eyes, instead choosing to stare at their plates. Water was forming a slight—drying—stain on the table cloth at Derek's place from when he had jereked from the table. Nora and George were clearly vivid and Casey's roll had landed somewhere on the sound system or the stairs behind him.

Casey was another thing completely. Her hair was mussed, hanging over her shoulder and her forehead. Her eyes were sparking with an unseen fire, wild and almost uncontrollable. Her face was flushed pink, and she was breathing heavily, shoulders heaving, as she was glaring at him.

Derek, for some unfathomable reason, felt the blood rushing to his head. There was a twist in his stomach, and his ears roared. His cheeks turned pinker than they already were. He felt as if he should turn away, but he still continued to look at her.

Reason finally took over his head, and he grabbed his plate, muttering a quick thanks to Nora for the dinner, and ran upstairs, ignoring the questioning looks and small sounds of protest that everyone was giving him.

Not again, he thought almost desperately, Not now…

His door flew open, and he stakled in, setting the plate on what used to be a clean spot on his desk harshly, and threw himself down upon his bed. He reached over, sliding in what he knew to be an especially distracting CD into his streo, and cranked the volume, trying to frown out his thoughts. He focused on the words, the riffs, the drumming… Anything that could potentially wreck where he knew his train of thought was headed. He wasn't going to deal with this. Not now, when he was so angry… Especially with her

This isn't good, he thought, shoving his pillow so that it covered his face.

He sat like this for a while, his hot breath hitting his face, making it slightly uncomfortable. Until there was a knock on the door, and Edwin stepped in warily. "Uh…Hey," he offered, sitting himself in Derek's computer chair, rolling towards him, ignoring the food on the desk that he normally wouldn't headed straight for.

"You…okay?" he asked.

Derek grunted. "As much as I can be," he said simply, moving the pillow to face the ceiling. He could feel Edwin's stare.

"Nora and Dad decided to 'think' about the Nutcracker thing," Edwin said nervously, as if that was the reason Derek was so upset. "I don't think that they wasn't to appear partial—favoring—either side yet, since the two of you were just duking it out… They're kinda angry at that, although they don't exactly show it."

Derek smirked. "Not why I'm mad, Ed, but thanks," he said, turning back to his pillows.

Edwin inched closer. "Then why are you…?"

"I dunno. Do I need a reason?" he asked nonchalantly, as if proposing a challenge. Edwin wouldn't take it, if things were to start going his way; that was the way Edwin was around him.

But he did. Damn missing logic. "According to Casey," Edwin said, "everything has a reason behind it. Even feelings."

"Yeah, well, I'm not writing them into haiku," Derek retorted, "so don't bother asking."

Edwin grinned, and Derek was satisfied that his lame attempt humor had gotten him something.

"So, what are you getting her?" Edwin asked suddenly.

Derek's smirk was wiped off of his face. "What now?"

"What are you getting Casey for Christmas?" Edwin repeated. "You can tell me, bro; I won't tell."

Derek turned his face so he was able to see his younger brother. He was a pretty lously liar, even at fifteen. "Who said I was going to the trouble to even get her anything?" he said smugly. "Besides, don't you know it's a little lame to spy on other people's gifts? You haven't done that since you were, what, thirteen?"

"What if the one receiving the presents were to pay you?" Edwin said.

"Not if the person doing the giving can still beat you up, despite the few self-defense moves Lizzie's taught you," Derek said, rolling his eyes. "No go. Do something constructive. Like getting me a sandwich, for example."

Edwin gave Derek a look that read he was far from done, but got up nonetheless. "Can't. My arms have gone horribly numb. I am currently unable to move them at all."

"Whatever." Derek brushed him off. "Then go and…balance the checkbook."

The comment clearly rolled off of Edwin as he strolled out of Derek's room, leaving the older brother once again alone with his attempts to stop thinking.

------------------

A/N: First Dasey fight. Go me. Can you guess why Derek is so freaky in this chapter:D

-VM ♡