Movie Night

Author's Note:

As mentioned, this chapter will be a slight detour from our progression down the FanFic ratings scale. I felt like I needed to clarify Casey's point of view a bit before we got into the things to come. It's very short and I still don't feel like I'm completely satisfied with it . . . On another note, I have decided on the chapter titles for the rest of the story. Together they shall read Naïve Uncomfortable Sick Wrong Hot Dasey Action. ;-)

Chapter #3: Sick

"You must have one sick mind. The thought that this situation was anything like ours never even entered my head!"

That's what that smug jerk had said to her. And the worst part was, maybe he was right.

When it came down to it, Casey still wasn't completely sure how she felt about him. He wasn't exactly her family, her enemy, or her friend. And yet he knew her as well as anyone and better than most. She didn't like the idea that she couldn't place him or their relationship in a neat little box.

And yes, the thought that the fighting and the teasing and the constant struggle between them might partially result from sexual tension had entered her head. Only someone with the self-awareness of a gold fish would completely fail to consider the possibility . . . in other words Derek.

For her at least, non-sisterly feelings probably did play some role in their relationship. Hell, it was probably why she had agreed to be in D-Rock again. She hadn't wanted to at first. But he had slung his arm around her shoulder, leaned in closely, and whispered annoying comments in her ear until she agreed. She had caved.

Although at the time she had told herself it was something she would enjoy anyways and that she was just doing it because she liked to sing, she knew that it probably also had something to do with the fact that she liked to watch him play. There was just something about seeing his fingers move across the guitar strings. Practiced. Adroit. Masterful. She couldn't help thinking about how they would feel moving across her skin . . .

Thoughts like this would pop up at random times. At band practice, in the bathroom as they brushed their teeth, when she saw him making out with other girls . . . Of course, there was no way in hell that she would ever tell him that.

But now she feared that he knew. He had looked at her intermittently throughout the movie and it had felt like he could see right through her. He already had an ego the size of Canada and now he would have this to lord over her . . .

She thought of him leaning over her, cocking his head in that particular way of his, and throwing her his trademark smirk. She wanted to wipe that smirk off his face. No, it was more than that. She wanted to make his teeth chatter, his heart pound, and his lips so raw that they couldn't form that smirk for a week.

She couldn't look him in the eye at this point because she thought that one gaze would say it all. She was twisted, turned on, and terrified of her own feelings. And she didn't think he would want to hear it. He would just think that she was deviant. Sick.