Another Vice
Chapter Seven
"Casey, why won't you talk to me? You've been avoiding me since we left New York. Did something happen?"
Yeah, you could say that.
I knew I couldn't get lucky enough to have just one minute alone after dinner, especially not in this house.
At the very least, dinner was mainly focused on Derek, which was a minor blessing in the scheme of things. I think Derek was surprised by how little animosity Mom and George still carried. I think Derek fails to realize that Mom and George are parents first, and he is their child, and no matter how many fights they have, that fact won't change.
"Case?" Derek's voice sounds almost hurt, and I know I'm not being fair to him.
We really have been getting along since we decided to talk more, and we have been— talking more. I would still go to his apartment when his roommate was out and we'd have sex, like always, but then I'd stay, and we'd talk or watch a movie and it's been nice.
I don't necessarily owe him anything because it's not like we have that stellar of a relationship to begin with, even with the way things have been going recently, but it's also not fair for me to freeze him out like I have been. It takes two to tango, so I can't solely blame him for my current situation, even if I wanted to.
I'm standing in the kitchen, pouring myself a glass of water, trying to figure out what to say to the man standing next to me.
Derek reaches out and places his hand on my arm, trying in vain to get me to look at him or talk to him.
"I'm sorry, Derek. I'm just-," I start, turning to face him, wondering if I'm really ready to tell him. "I'm just still not feeling very well."
Guess I'm not ready.
And as if on cue, I take one sip of my water and nearly immediately feel my stomach turn.
I yank my arm away from Derek, running as fast as my feet will move up the stairs, to the bathroom, falling to my knees and hurling my dinner back up into the toilet.
I hadn't noticed it when I was trying to not vomit all up the stairs, but Derek must've followed me, because I feel his hands pulling my hair back from my face and off my neck and holding it away from the danger zone.
Once I've sufficiently emptied my stomach of any and all contents, I sit back against the bathtub, leaning my head against the cool porcelain, trying to will away the nausea.
"Casey, what is going on? You said you were sick, but I just assumed you just didn't want to come over last night."
I sigh.
"It's not that, Derek," I frown. "I've just got some kind of stomach bug. I'm sure I'll be better soon."
"What do you mean you haven't told him yet? Casey, you've been home for two days," Lillian asks, exasperated on the other end of the telephone.
"I know, I know," I sigh. "And I've been throwing up since I got here, and even George is starting to look suspicious— and he's oblivious to everything."
I'm sitting outside on the front porch, still trying to decide how to tell Derek about our new family addition, talking to Lillian, who I'm really starting to miss considering she's currently the only one who knows that I'm pregnant, and who I can talk to freely.
"Casey, you need to tell him. You've known for almost a week. How would you like it if Derek kept a secret from you like this?"
"I know, Lillian, I'll tell him. I just have to figure out how…"
"Der-ek, you don't live here anymore! You don't get to monopolize the tv anymore!" I shout, reaching my hand out for the tv clicker.
Derek is currently lounging in his recliner as if he never left, flicking through channels for some hockey game he wants to watch, and I'm on the couch next to him, getting a weird sense of deja vu. I feel like I've been transported back to high school.
"You don't live here either!" Derek counters, laughing as he waves the clicker in front of me.
"I guess some things never change, huh?" I hear George say to Mom from behind the sofa.
Lizzie is sitting next to me, trying not to smirk and Edwin is all out laughing from the stairs.
Well, no, I guess some things never change. For example, Derek and I fighting— that won't change until one of us is six feet under— or Derek stealing the television clicker. But other things… other things change.
"Well, you should learn to share," I snap, crossing my arms over my chest and looking at Derek defiantly.
"I share just fine— just not with you," Derek shoots back, raising his eyebrow into a high arch.
Oh sure, you'll share your bed and your shower with me, but not a stupid tv clicker.
"Well, I think you should. After all, I'm the one who's pre— uh, prettier."
Fuck.
Thankfully, I don't think anyone notices the slip, but now I have to tell Derek. If I'm almost blurting out that I'm pregnant in front of our entire family, I should probably at least tell the father first.
"Derek? Can I talk to you?" I ask, knocking on his open bedroom door after everyone else has gone to sleep.
"I don't know, can you? You've barely spoken to me since we got here."
Derek looks at me like I've just stolen something from him, but even still, he scoots over to one side of his bed, leaving some space for me next to him.
"I know," I say, closing his bedroom door behind me and crawling into bed next to him, "I just— there's something I have to tell you and I just haven't known how."
"When have you ever not known how to say something? You're not shy, just go ahead and say it."
Derek flicks through some car magazine, barely acknowledging that I'm trying to tell him something.
"D, can you please put away the magazine? I really need to talk to you."
Derek sighs and tosses the magazine to the side, turning to look at me, his face clearly displaying the contempt he's feeling.
"Fine, Case, but I know what you're gonna say anyway, so don't worry, no hard feelings. We'll just go back to New York and you can stop coming over and you don't have to see me anymore."
I cock my head to the side, confused, but I guess it gives me an in to start to tell Derek what's been going on. After all, I'm not so sure I want to go back to New York under the circumstances.
"What? What are you talking about?" I ask, incredulously.
"I'm talking about you calling it quits on our arrangement," Derek replies, crossing his arms over his chest, puffing out his bare chest.
I roll my eyes, exhaling heavily. Of course Derek would think this was all about sex. I swear, this man thinks of nothing else.
"Way off base," I laugh, shaking my head. "But I don't think I'll be going back to New York."
Derek seems to process what I just said before realization hits.
"What do you mean you're not going back to New York? What about your job and your apartment? And Lillian?"
Those are all entirely valid questions, and truth be told, I'm not sure. I haven't talked to Lillian yet, and I can't just leave her without a roommate and a New York City apartment rent to pay by herself.
"Well, I freelance, so my job I can do from anywhere. But as for the apartment and Lillian, I need to talk to her. But I'm sure she'll understand. She'd want me to be with my family right now too— I think that's what's best for everyone involved."
Derek scrunches his eyebrows together, very clearly confused by what I'm saying. But then his face softens, and his eyes turn down and he looks almost hurt, or maybe even scared.
"Casey, are you sick? Y'know, like, sick?"
I sigh heavily, frustrated with myself. Why can't I just tell him?
"Ugh, no! I'm not sick," I groan, exasperated. "I'm pregnant!"
As soon as those words leave my lips, I'm mentally kicking myself, my hands flying up to cover my big mouth. That is not how I intended to tell my step-brother that he's going to be a father.
"Did you just say pregnant?"
Uh oh. How do you guys think he's going to react? Good? Bad?
