Again, I'm sorry about the confusion from before. Here's the next installment. Here's the thing though: my apologies, but it's one of the shorter chapters. The next one should compensate for it, though.

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Warmth. There was something warm near her. That was the first thing Casey registered as her mind began detaching from deep sleep. What was so warm? And soft? She sighed in her sleep and rolled over, facing the warmth. Then her eyes opened a sliver. Instead of white sheets and cream-colored walls she was expecting, there was a blur of peach before her. Surprised, her eyes popped open. Derek's face was not one foot away from hers. And that's when all the memories from the previous night came back to her; the feel of his fingers on her skin, long moans that buttered up the air, a thin film of sweat over firm skin…

The realization made Casey jump back and out of the bed in shock. When her feet were planted on the ground, she remembered she was naked. Naked. And Derek was in the same bed, and he'd…well, he'd touched…oh God! Her breathing was shaky as she looked around the room as though seeing it for the first time. What to do? Where to go? What to do? She stared into Derek's face. It seemed so different now, somehow more mature.

The panic set in. She didn't know where to go, but all she knew was she didn't want to be there when Derek woke up. She didn't want the awkward conversation – or worse, the awkward silence – or to be told how he'd made a mistake.

Shit shit shit. She crept into the bathroom and took the quickest shower of her life. She was scared of Derek's reaction, yes, but she didn't feel dirty. Irrational thoughts swam through her mind as the hot water rushed over her body. Maybe I could somehow dress him up and put him in his bed and make him think he'd dreamed it…maybe I could empty all the bottles in the mini-fridge and make him think we were piss drunk. But then again, no hangover. Shit.

Casey practically jumped into the first shirt and skirt she found, grabbed her purse and left the room. She started walking around the Parisian streets, trying to get her head to stop spinning. She couldn't run from him forever; they had a train to catch at two.

Stupid moments from the previous night kept running through her mind like a broken record. Rapid pants, slow moans, touching, touching, touching, her bra…She quickened her pace as though trying to leave the memories behind her. She'd gotten about a quarter mile away from the hotel when the turmoil within her started to quiet down and she realized she was slightly sore and the walking wasn't helping matters. She dropped onto a bench. Her head was whirling and she was almost sure it had nothing to do with the vodka. She held her head in her hands. She wanted to go back to Spain, where things were normal, and run from Derek forever there. She could give herself a new name, like Maria, learn fluent Spanish, and open a little Café near a beach…Oddly enough, the main reason she knew that was impossible was that she'd already chosen her college back home.

Casey started trembling slightly but didn't feel like crying; she was shocked, but not upset. Passer bys looked at her strangely, as though pondering whether or not to offer her help. Did she look that distraught?

Finally, Casey clenched all her muscles to stop the shaking and got up. She did the most logical thing she could think of doing at that moment; drinking coffee. Then she took her phone out of her bag and typed in the message:

Please bring my things to train station.

Even saying something so void of emotion to Derek made Casey cringe slightly, but she sent the message anyway. There, now she wouldn't have to worry about going back to the room. On the train she could figure out what to do to avoid her stepbrother.

Then, suddenly, her phone rang obnoxiously. Casey winced when she saw 'New Message: Derek' flashing on the screen, but opened it anyway.

Where r u?!

Casey didn't want to answer, so, in an act of extreme immaturity, she shut her phone off.

"Oh, God, Derek!" No, no, not again. Casey drowned the ghost of a memory in a huge gulp of coffee. She sighed. For such an intelligent girl, she really had no brains sometimes.

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The train station was crowded, thank God. Exclamations and shouts mingled with the hum of excited chatter that surrounded Casey. She was anxiously trying to keep out of sight. She hoped that Derek wouldn't approach her if he saw her, but couldn't be sure. Casey went through security and was finally on the platform, waiting to board. And, of course, there he was, two suitcases at his feet, looking around anxiously, standing on tiptoe to try to look out over the crowd. No luck. Casey ducked down before he saw her. She suddenly felt guilty, like a child that ran away from home. Tentatively, she reached into her bag.

Don't worry. I'm going to board the train. Please don't look for me.

Casey watched as Derek jumped at the sudden ringing coming from his pants, then his face softened into relief as his eyes scanned the screen. He didn't stop looking around, but at least he didn't look as worried.

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The first half of the train ride was relatively uneventful; Casey read some pamphlets without paying much attention to them while sitting in somebody else's seat; she managed to trade places with a middle aged man that seemed to understand her problem after getting a good look at Derek. It was about halfway through the trip, though, that a knock came at Casey's compartment door.

Casey took a deep breath and slid it open. Derek's eyes looked wounded.

"Hey." He said softly.

Casey just looked at him with an expressionless face.

"We need to talk." He went on gently.

"I'm not ready to talk."

Derek's voice hardened slightly. "Too bad."

Casey gave him an evil look and shut the door. Why the sudden hostility, she had no idea, probably a self-defense mechanism of sorts. At least he didn't come near her again until after arriving in London.

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u cant avoid me forever.

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Did you get my stuff to the room?

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Yes. When r u gonna get here?

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Soon. I'm sorry.

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Please get here soon. We need to talk.

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Don't you love reading something by an author that won't update for two months straight and then suddenly, BAM, the block is gone and I can just crank the chapters out?

Ok, I'm not going to beg this time, but I will ask nicely to leave me reveiws. It's only polite, and I would love to know any reasons you think it sucks (no sarcasm - I like constructive critisism, even if I don't always listen)