Casey awoke the next morning with a shrill beeping sound screeching in her left ear. She grumbled, lazily looking for the snooze button. She couldn't find it. The clock therefore continued its inexorable cries.
Her hand fished around on the floor, yanking the cord out of the socket, allowing an abrupt silence to follow. Fingering the blankets resting on top of her, the girl blearily remembered the events of the night before and found herself pondering on whether she should smile or scowl.
Derek did those things to her; muddled her every sense, muddled her logic, and sometimes, just sometimes, she felt it was unbearable. Still lying on her mattress, allowing the warmth of her quilts to keep her locked in her sleepy daze, she sighed.
Casey supposed she was a little too hard on him sometimes. They might have mutually agreed to keep their relationship a secret, but it didn't mean it wasn't difficult.
Not everyone would understand. Maybe not even their own parents.
Slipping two slim feet into bunny slippers, she padded out into the hallway, where, yet again, silence greeted her. The bathroom wasn't occupied either. Casey found this suspicious. Normally she had to scream at Derek until she was hoarse. Instead of taking the opportunity while it lasted, Casey headed down the stairs instead, toward the kitchen.
Voices did not greet her. Casey, fully confused by this point, realized her entire family wasn't even up yet. She wiped the sleep from her eyes, stepped into the kitchen, and there sat Derek, idly sipping on black coffee with an air of arrogance that irritated her.
"Derek," she began gently, barely stifling her anger, realizing that Derek had something to do with the odd demeanor of her household, "Why are we the only ones up?"
He didn't even look at her. "Probably because I set your alarm to go off at five."
"You what?" She hissed icily.
"Just a guess, Case." He said smoothly, setting the green mug in the sink. His hair was damp, hazel eyes twinkling with mischief.
Casey grudgingly admitted to herself that he looked attractive in this moment. That was what got her into all this trouble in the first place.
"I'm going back to bed."
"Casey." Derek said her name in a certain way that always made her come back. His tongue lingered on the syllables, drawing them out with the soft rumble of his voice.
She would never tell him this, of course, because he would use it for perverse reasons. But she turned to him, still fuming, but mostly over her lack of control.
Derek always got the best of her, it seemed. In some ways she loved it, but in other ways it drove her mad. Made her feel like she wasn't the independent person she was.
If she ever told Paul, he would probably say she was more afraid of caring for Derek than anything. Being independent saved her from heartache. Casey thought, sometimes, that Derek could cause her heartache that was worse than anything she'd experienced, so maybe imaginary-Paul was right.
"I need to talk to you." He said seriously. Casey eyed him in distaste.
"Why can't we talk here?"
Derek sighed, closed his eyes for a moment. "Because, Case. Just because." Did she really have to be so difficult? For a woman who supposedly loved sappy surprises, Casey's nature made it difficult to try.
The dark-haired girl stared at him for a second, unsure of whether to proceed with a snarky comment or an equally serious gesture.
She sighed, "Okay," and shuffled toward the stairs, planning on a nice shower. At least she would get that today.
"Hey, Casey?" Derek called softly, his smirk evident in his voice, "Do you mind if I watch?"
Casey glowered at him.
"Only if you want to never have children again."
"That would be so much more threatening if you weren't wearing your yummi sushi pajamas, Case."
Casey simply stuck his tongue at him and sauntered away.
o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o
"Why are we leaving so early again?" Casey asked while shuddering, rubbing her hands in an attempt to keep warm. It was January, and the cold would be here a while. In Texas, the cold was never an issue. Even in a thick parka, Casey was freezing.
Derek started the car, the heat blaring. He ignored her, pulling the car out into the street and heading to the local cafe where he could purchase a cheap shut-Casey-up beverage that would not only please him but her as well.
"Derek!" She began, a tinge of irritation to her tone, "Where the hell are we going?" She didn't fully trust Derek to get her on time to school, if at all. The boy did not get up early for no reason.
"Casey," Derek said, fully annoyed, "Please shut up. I'm trying to drive, and the screeching noise otherwise defined as your voice is distracting me."
"You never treat me like a girlfriend." She muttered, "Even when we're alone."
She's right, he thought, and something tells me I'm going to screw up a few thousand more times until I get this right. He inwardly let out a groan. A few thousand moments of Casey's whining, nagging, and retorts. Fun.
The rest of the drive was silent and uncomfortable. Casey fiddled with the radio until he swatted her hand away. "He who controls the Prince also controls the tunes." Derek reminded her.
He could feel her pouting. God, she was annoying when she pouted in situations where he was incapable of kissing it off her face.
It did strange things to him, that pout. Maybe Derek was the masochist.
Little did he know, Casey was fully aware of the desire that pouting elicited. She'd figured it out fairly early on, and just did it now because…well, the whole push-and-pull thing she and Derek had, that was just their way. And maybe Casey wasn't always as mature as she thought she should be; she blamed Derek for this.
As they pulled into the driving lot, Casey's pouting changed into a small smile. Of course. Sugary coffee was her kryptonite.
Derek put the car in park, surprised by a hand sliding up his face, pulling him closer. He felt the curve of her smile against his lips, the warmth of her against his chest, and as he moved to deepen the kiss, Casey drew back, looking him in the eyes briefly before kissing his cheek and making her way out of the car.
Did he detect some devilishness in those baby blue eyes of hers? Why, yes, he did. Derek smirked to himself, watching her leave. He was so proud of his influence.
Derek trailed behind her purposefully. At this hour, staring at her without shame was a possibility, and it was one he was going to take. She was getting caffeine, he was getting his "lecherous gazing", as Casey called it, out of his system. Clearly everyone was winning here.
The bustling and loudness of the early birds not deterring her mission of getting her caffeine; she ordered something, probably something sugary. She pulled out a bill, but he quickly put down a twenty, avoiding her eyes purposely just so he wouldn't see the obvious sentiment in them. They plopped into the large, fluffy chairs, oddly exhausted.
"What did you want to talk about?" Casey asked distractedly, waiting for her coffee.
He sighed. God, this was going to be hard. Admitting his faults. He hated admitting things.
"Well…" he began, "I just wanted to say I know—"
"Casey? Derek?" a familiar voice cried, "Oh my God! Hi!" Derek groaned, burying his face in the palm of his hands. No, no, no, no, no.
Kendra walked over saucily, eyeing him. He watched her with a certain disappointment and anger. Damn you, Kendra, for being so goddamn social. Damn you, Venturi, for taking Casey to the most over populated coffee shop in Canada.
"So guys, what's up?" Kendra chirped, planting her ass onto the table between them.
"Nothing." Derek muttered in a strained voice. Kendra began to talk, mostly to herself, and Derek pretended to listen. Casey watched him with curious eyes, sipping her coffee that he had paid for.
He shifted his gaze, supposing it had been a stupid idea anyway. Presuming he could ever take Casey anywhere and have her be just his.
The time of the day didn't change the truth, did it?
She was his stepsister, and his secret. It didn't take a rocket scientist to figure out everything normal couples got to do, he gave up the second he kissed her four months ago.