I have another chapter for you! And I don't even think it's been a month yet. See, I'm improving. Or I just have spring fever, which makes me inspired for all the non-school related things. I hope there aren't too many errors; I checked most of it a few times, but all my friends came into my room a while ago, so I was a little distracted in re-reading the end. Give me grace ducks And I hope you enjoy.
Disclaimer: I am struggling between a Media Communications and a Creative Writing Major. This means, that while I would definitely love all that owning these characters would involve, I don't. So far as I know.
After spending several hours mentally preparing herself, Casey was mildly horrified to feel all that preparation flee the second Derek opened the door. Still, those years of practice were not for nothing, and Casey brusquely pushed past her stepbrother into his apartment, the few seconds reprieve allowing her to regain her composure before he could note the change and use it against her.
I can do this, she reminded herself, breathing in slowly and deeply before releasing her breath with forced calm, turning to face Derek, who appeared just as determined as she to keep this all business. I need to do this, she thought firmly, setting her brow. She had decided the night before, as she faltered between drowning herself in her work and stubbornly not calling Kendra in a panic to back out, that this was, in fact, the best thing for her. She could test her resolve, learn to work with the man she'd do anything to avoid, and, in the end, if this didn't help her move past that ridiculous crush that had resiliently clung to her since adolescence, then at least she could wrap her mind around the idea that he was well and truly not hers, and that the past needed to be pushed aside once and for all.
"Well," Casey said into the silence, breaking her own train of thought. "We'd better get started if we want to finish everything on Kendra's list." In all actuality Kendra had not left much as far as big things went, but Casey assumed it would take longer to get everything to the bride's specifications. And on a more personal level, the sooner they finished, the sooner she could be comfortably away from Derek again. With that thought Casey pulled out her notebook, the inside covering sporting a typed list of Kendra's expectations, and flipped it open, never once glancing at Derek's face.
"Kendra already found the bridesmaid dresses, but we need to—"
"Wait, she has?" Derek interrupted, looking confused.
Casey glanced up at him and suppressed a sigh, choosing not to sarcastically roll her eyes at his response. Apparently Kendra had taken her fiancée's avoidance of all things wedding planning into consideration and stopped boring him with every detail. Which really just made Casey's life so much more difficult.
"Yes," she told him, managing to keep most of the frustration out of her tone. Don't start a fight, she repeated to keep herself calm. Fights always end in things that ruin your life. Don't start a fight. The mantra calmed her somewhat, and she managed a polite smile.
"We do need to find Marti, though, because she skipped out on her fitting." Thanks to the influence of a certain someone, she didn't say. "So we can pick her up from school this afternoon. That leaves us," she checked her watch before glancing back up, "two hours to look at invitations."
"Invitations?" Derek questioned skeptically. "Will we really need two hours for that?"
"You'd be surprised," Casey said, hoping she sounded more offhanded than she felt as she scanned her list once more. "You have to look at card stock, and fonts, and color schemes, and decals, and then decide whether you want layers, or bows or—"
"Okay, okay, I get it," Derek interrupted, sounding slightly irritated. Casey let her eyes drift towards him. "Kendra will make the final judgment," she added for his benefit. "We're just looking through catalogues and finding roughly what she has in mind."
Derek nodded, deciding it would be better to just go along with it. The more he complained, the more he would aggravate the situation, which is something neither of them wanted.
"What about the rest of the week?" he asked in an effort to remain on task.
Casey flipped past a few pages, the glanced back at the list on the inside cover. "Well, there are the invitations and Marti's fitting, of course; and your tux fitting," she added, eyes flickering to him briefly. Derek twisted his lips slightly, but managed to repress a frown. "Touring the building for the reception, talking to the caterers, finalizing the guest list," she cut of with a sigh of annoyance. "Basically, Kendra has been looking at dresses and flowers. That leaves a lot of details and paperwork."
Derek groaned; he should've guessed that the flighty part of Kendra's personality would come out in this. She never was one for the little things as long as she had her fun. Not that he was much different, but still.
"Can't we do, like, cake tasting or something?"
Casey glanced back at her list. "She's leaving it up to you to choose the band," she offered, well-aware that music was something Derek enjoyed. He offered her a light grin. Maybe this working together thing would be bearable, after all. As long as she kept her head and managed to balance cordiality and staying somewhat aloof, she couldn't foresee anything major that could go wrong.
As they stood in line behind the ticket desk, Casey obstinately ignoring Derek because of their near tardiness, she couldn't help but let her thoughts drift to the thing that had been plaguing her for the last however many hours.
Of course, she and Derek had certainly never been involved, but over the past several months it had gotten to the point where she could almost imagine they were. Not that she would, but . . . . Things had changed. He mocked her and played tricks while she yelled and lectured and rolled her eyes; but they were always together, picking on each other, battling wits—even, on rare occasions, hanging out. Those last instances had seemed to come more often that summer, actually. He even helped her out a few times, though they both knew if she mentioned it he would vehemently deny any such claims.
And somehow, she had started to see him differently. At first she hadn't realized it, and simply thanked her lucky stars that Derek was becoming more bearable. She'd managed a catastrophic freak out when she started having . . . more than friendly thoughts about him, but she quickly explained that away. And at the end of Senior year, when she had finally, reluctantly, accepted it, she convinced herself that it was simply a stupid, passing thing that she would soon get over. But even as she made an effort to stay normal—thinking at the very least it would be good to be friends, which seemed to be the direction they were heading—she couldn't seem to stop the jolt of her heart or the extra flare of annoyance that she knew, deep down, meant trouble. As her feelings grew, even Casey realized that Derek would pick up on them, but she continued to ignore them.
Which was probably the cause of that thing the other day, she thought sourly. He had to know what effect he had on her, knew exactly how to rile her up, and used it to his advantage to make her uncomfortable. Well I certainly showed him, she continued with a forced measure of pride. He took it too far, and he has to know he can't just . . . mess with me like that.
"Hey, Space Case," Derek nudged her shoulder, breaking her from the inner diatribe that continued to direct criticism at his character. "The line's moving."
Casey took a few steps forward without acknowledging who it was that had spoken, then went back to her pointed disregard of him.
Of course he'd act like nothing had happened, Casey continued to rant bitterly. Using his stupid knowledge of girls and my stupid emotions to rile me up, then proving he doesn't care in the least.She snorted once, couldn't help herself, and glanced up to note that a few of the other passengers boarding had turned to look at her. She glanced down, undecided as to whether the flush staining her cheeks was more from embarrassment or anger.
Maybe I should just let it go, her rational side argued, even as the side of her that felt wholly betrayed gasped, let it go? in a disbelieving tone. I mean, I did try to back out first, she told herself meekly. Because he didn't really mean it! she growled back. And it's not right, not matter how much I want it, she sighed miserably. Well,I'm going to be stuck with him for a few days, she argued back, switching tactics, so I might as well make it bearable. For myself, she quickly added as her pride balked. So I can enjoy seeing Dad.
The resentment still festered rebelliously, but Casey sighed, allowing most of it evaporate as she finally stepped up to the front of the line and handed the uniformed woman her ticket. Deep down, she knew she felt more hurt than angry, and, most of all, frustrated with herself for allowing this to happen.
She stalked into the thru-way without waiting for Derek, and he didn't hurry to catch up with her. She would get quite enough of him for the next few hours.
Of course this would happen, Casey thought, more resigned than irritated, as she sat in seat 23B and glanced down the aisle next to her, waiting for some sign that the luggage issue was solved and they would be getting underway.
Beside her, Derek sighed, and she couldn't resist glancing at him in her peripheral vision. Even she was getting annoyed with how long they had been sitting on the tarmac, and Derek was certainly not one to best her in the patience department. She watched him drum his fingers on the armrest for a moment before apparently growing bored with that, too, and digging around in his pocket. She glanced back to watch the flight attendant walking back and forth up the aisle, assuring antsy passengers, until her attention was diverted by a faint, mechanical voice near her left ear.
"—two unheard messages. First message from—"
Casey did her best not to listen, but her annoyance with Derek seemed to squelch her conscience and the sound of her mother's voice caught her attention.
"Just making sure you guys are safe. I know you're probably on the plane, so make sure to call me when you get into New York. I love you guys. Bye." Derek rolled his eyes and deleted the message as Casey wondered if there were a similar one on her own cell, which she had turned off in the terminal like she was supposed to.
"Next unheard message," the computerized voice announced; the tone shifted again, and Casey felt her breath catch in surprise. Then she turned her head and carefully schooled her features to appear disinterested, listening all the harder to the faint voice. "Derek! You didn't tell me you were coming to New York!"
Then how did you find out? Casey found herself asking bitterly.
"That's too bad," Kendra continued, sounding way too perky for the sentence, "because my cousin is in town and I don't know how much free time I'll have. But if you get a moment, give me a call. Maybe you and Casey can eat lunch with us or something." Casey felt slightly bad for her earlier thought. She did like Kendra, and it wasn't really her fault that her ex-boyfriend was ruining Casey's life. "Let me know. Bye!" The line went dead, and the automated voice returned. Derek was back to messing around with the buttons, but Casey tuned out.
In all honesty, she was surprised. She knew Derek and Kendra exchanged an email now and then, but she had thought they had pretty much lost contact. Derek wasn't one to string something out, she knew; especially something he knew wouldn't work. But if Kendra was calling him about lunch, maybe they kept in better touch than she had thought.
She looked at Derek and pondered asking him about it, before dismissing the thought. She didn't want to talk to him any more than necessary. And you were eavesdropping, she reminded herself, with only a twinge of guilt.
"Ladies and gentlemen," a female voice drifted from the speakers, and Casey could just see the stewardess speaking into the box at the front of the cabin. "We will be on our way shortly. Please turn off all electronic devices and . . . ."
Casey turned out, ignoring the jostling of her arm as Derek dug for his seatbelt. Leaning her head back and closing her eyes, Casey hoped against hope that she would be able to sleep through the flight.
Casey sat in the front seat of Derek's car, a faint smile on her lips. Looking through invitations had gone better than she expected; they found three options that looked remarkably similar to Kendra's specifications, and all three were now tucked away in Casey's folder. But more than that, Derek's company had been bearable. More than bearable, she admitted as she looked at him from the corner of her eye. Though the first twenty minutes had been a battle between awkward moments and irritation, they soon fell into a pattern that seemed to work for both of them. It wasn't as easy working with him as it used to be, of course—things were still far too tense for that—but by the end of the afternoon Derek had taken to making snide comments about the more interesting invitations choices, and after fifteen minutes of fighting them, Casey allowed herself a few small smiles.
Now they were sitting in late afternoon traffic, on their way to pick up Marti and get on with their final task of the day.
Unsure of what else to do, Casey rested her elbow by the window and cradled her chin, looking out the window with careless interest. The car drifted to a stop as they hit a red light, and Casey's eyes roamed to the car next to them. It took her a moment to notice the small sticker in the corner of the window, but when she did she let out an astonished "oh."
Derek glanced out the window at her noise of surprise, and moments later he was sporting an emphatically raised brow, as Casey's mouth drifted open in shock. There, in bold black, were the words, "The Schlepp," outlined in mist blue. The top quarter of the decal sported a picture of Sheldon himself, dramatically popping the peace sign. Slowly, she and Derek turned to face each other, each slightly blank in the face.
She couldn't help the laughter that spilled out of her, then, and Derek was laughing along with her as they pulled away from the light. She opened her mouth, to say what she wasn't sure, but her mystery sentence was interrupted as the Wedding March broke out from the driver's seat and drifted through the car. Casey stopped laughing abruptly, breathing in deeply and schooling her features as Derek dug the phone from his pocket, muttering under his breath about people messing with his ring tones.
"Kendra," he greeted when he finally got the device to his ear, keeping one hand casually on the wheel as he continued to pull through traffic. Casey glanced out the window, suddenly feeling awkward and trying her best to remain aloof. Not that you've been terribly aloof so far, an internal voice muttered. She shushed it stubbornly with the sinking feeling that it might be right.
"Really? That's great!" Derek said, and Casey glanced at him out of the corner of her eye. He meant it, she knew, but she could also see the underlying . . . something in the way he grinned.
"Yeah, sure," the one-sided conversation continued. "Uh, huh. . . . Kendra, don't push it," that was unfortunately a little more amused than she would have hoped. Don't, she told herself firmly, forcing herself not to listen. "Yeah, we've been . . ." Derek started, and she finally tuned out. The snapping of the phone brought her back to attention, but she wasn't sure how much time had passed. Considering they were still a few minutes away, not long.
"So, uh, Kendra's interview went well," Derek interjected into the silence.
Casey looked up at him with a gracious smile. "That's great."
They sat without speaking for another minute or two, and Casey felt herself growing agitated. She never had any problem coming up with conversation around Derek. That's not strictly true, she reminded herself, but almost immediately dismissed the thought. That doesn't count. The fact that I didn't talk to him doesn't change the fact that I could have, if I'd wanted to. You did want to. Okay, I could have if I let myself, she argued back, frustrated. Anyway, those years of my life didn't count. And even when I was being overly polite, we could still make conversation. Fed up with the internal monologue and irritated that Derek had apparently succeeded in driving her crazy, Casey struggled for something else to say.
"Uh, does this guy have anything to do with that magazine she interned with after Senior year?" It was a legitimate follow up question, albeit a bit late, but as soon as the words left her mouth she wished them back. She honestly could have kicked herself. Please don't let this conversation veer toward New York . . . .
But either Derek didn't follow the connection, or chose to ignore it. "No, I don't think so. I mean, he's probably contributed some of his designs, but I don't think they gave her the connection . . ." he drifted off. "I don't know," he finally sighed. "She didn't say much about it before she left." He smiled wryly. "I think she's saving all the details in case something comes of it, so she can really go crazy."
Casey smiled again, and it wasn't really forced. Just not terribly exuberant. They fell into silence again, but it wasn't as uncomfortable as it was before. They were much closer now, and Casey found herself growing strangely antsy as they traveled the path they had so often in their first years together. Together meaning riding in the same car. Or living in the same house. She corrected her thoughts' implications with practice she wished she hadn't had. How pathetic was it that she felt a pang whenever thoughts like that popped into her head. It was like her brain wanted her to slip up. When it was all my stupid brain's fault in the first place. She took a minute to dissect the sentence, then came to the frustrating conclusion, goodness, I sound like a kid. I must be regressing.
But then they were stopping at the final intersection, and turning onto the last main street.
"The high school," Casey breathed reverently when it came into view. She could almost imagine Derek fighting a laugh, but she didn't care. "I can't believe it's been so long since we left," she marveled as they inched closer, stuck behind an ever slowing line of cars and buses. Derek shrugged noncommittally, and Casey frowned. Derek of all people should have been reminiscing over being happily removed from this building for the last eight years. Oh, right, she remembered after a moment. He helps Marti skip sometimes. Obviously he wasn't as far removed from Sir John Sparrow Thompson High as Casey, which she found slightly ironic. Still, she dismissed his silence with an understanding shrug and continued.
"I always thought I would miss it more. I mean, I spent enough time there, even when it wasn't required." She smiled slightly, an echo in her mind waiting for the inevitable friendly insult. It never came, and she frowned first in disappointment, then at herself.
Stop it, Casey told her mind firmly, but she found herself strangely unable to comply with her own command. She had forgotten what it was like. For the past six years she had been so consumed with avoiding her feelings for Derek that she had disregarded what had caused them in the first place. How had she forgotten how much fun it was to challenge each other, to battle with words?
We were sort of friends once, weren't we? she found herself pondering wistfully. That thought was followed by another resounding, stop it!
"I mean," Casey continued quickly, hoping he didn't notice the barest hint of desperation that tinged her voice as she attempted to control her rebellious thoughts. She would not go down that path again. "When was the last time we were here, anyway? Just before University? That day when I—" she cut off abruptly when her peripheral showed Derek staring fixedly at the road in front of him as he slowed at the entrance; her breath caught in her throat. I did not just reference that, she rebuked herself, shocked. That was what happened when she didn't concentrate on her words around him. That's what happened when you live in the past, an internal voice chimed deprecatingly.
"I suppose it's just odd that Marti actually goes here now," Casey recovered, mulling her words with care before she spoke them.
"Yeah, I guess you're right," Derek replied, making it clear even with his casual tone that the line of conversation was over. Casey grasped a new topic with relief, one that would hopefully keep her a bit more in check.
"Do you know how Kendra finally managed to find Marti a bridesmaid dress? It must have taken a Herculean effort."
"Jenny," Derek said with a roll of his eyes. "I'm not sure if you noticed, but she and Marti are best friends now," the last three words were dripping with tempting sarcasm, but Casey merely replied, "Oh?"
"Yeah," he muttered.
"Well, it's good there's someone who could do it," she added, hoping to return to the safe harbor of discussing wedding plans.
"If you say so," Derek agreed, and Casey raised a brow.
"What?" she couldn't help but asking. "I mean, I only met her that once," she moved on quickly from the reminder of that embarrassing night, "but she seemed nice enough."
"Oh, she is," Derek agreed. "Usually," he added with some underlying irritation that had Casey's stomach twisting in jealousy more than watching him with ever Kendra had. He's only supposed to get irritated with me, she thought irrationally, before twisting her mouth at the childish thought. It wasn't like Derek's irritation was that hard to come by, after all.
"She just seems a little . . . manipulative," he added after a moment. Casey looked at him in askance. "Like Marti," he admitted sheepishly, "only not as cute. More slanting and less maneuvering. I don't know."
"She and Marti were up to something the other night," Casey put in, and Derek glanced at her. "I don't know what it was," she admitted. "I figured if it was something major someone would figure it out eventually."
"We can only hope," Derek added wryly, the expression on his face one Casey easily read as fondness for his sister. "You know how Marti loves trouble."
"I wonder why," Casey asked mildly, not checking the reference for the first time in what felt like forever. There was no denying how much Marti took after her brother, and that fact sometimes made Casey more susceptible whenever she dropped by the house.
Derek grinned and shrugged. "No idea," he added innocently.
"Well, it certainly wasn't Ed—"
Her brow puckered and her sentence cut off as he drove past the small cluster of waiting parents, pulling around the back of the school and swinging into a 'Faculty Only' space.
"What are you doing?" she asked, voice a mild mixture of curiosity and disapproval. He was already halfway out of the car, arm resting casually over the doorframe as he ducked his head back in to shrug at her. She fumbled with the seatbelt, slightly irritated as she pushed her own door open.
"You honestly didn't expect Marti to be where she's supposed to be, did you?" he asked rhetorically as he walked around the right of the building, where she knew a smattering of picnic tables were set up for anyone who wanted lunch outside.
"Oh, right," she agreed a little unwillingly. How was it that Derek was more in tune with the family than she was? Well, aside from the fact that it was Marti they were dealing with.
Casey rounded the corner a few steps after Derek, just in time to see Marti straighten and greet her brother with a genuine smile. It melted Casey's heart just a little bit; while Marti was definitely a cheerful person, often her smiles were sarcastic or one of those maddening perceptive smiles Casey could never seem to figure out. It was nice to see authentic contentment.
Casey trailed over to where Marti was sitting on the table, feet propped on the bench next to two other girls. One was leaning back on her arm, neck slanting upward to finish saying something, but the other was watching Derek approach. It took Casey a minute to another girl sitting in the grass, dreamily twisting the pieces of green in her fingers.
"Hey Smarti," Derek greeted with a grin infinitely brighter than any he had flashed at Casey that day. "Wreak much havoc today?"
"Surprisingly little," she responded with an innocent shrug. "And no one came close to catching me. It was a little disappointing."
"Eh," Derek intoned with an understanding shrug. "When you're the best . . . ." He let the sentence linger, and Marti quirked another grin.
"Hey, Casey," she greeted brightly, turning to look behind her brother to where her stepsister hung back.
Casey blinked in surprise at being addressed, though she wasn't sure why. She just kind of felt like a bystander, like she didn't really belong here.
"Hello, Marti."
The girl on the ground, a redhead with a bright yellow bow pulling back her pin straight hair, gave a whimsical sort of sigh. "I knew your fiancée would be too pretty to compete with," she said, glancing at Derek with an adoring smile.
Casey spared the girl a withering glance before she could check herself. Are you serious? she found herself wanting to ask, though she wasn't sure if for the crass assumption or the fact that the girl was hitting on someone at least ten years her elder.
"Oh, that's my stepsister, Casey," Marti corrected flippantly. "She's the one forcing me to the bridal boutique this afternoon, because Derek's fiancée skipped town for a few days."
The girl who had been talking to Marti shrugged while the one who had watched them approach looked contemplative. The girl who had made the assumption, however, merely smiled up at Derek.
"Well I'm sure she's gorgeous anyway." Casey wondered whether or not she could dissuade the girl from her blatant admiration, which was probably only embarrassing her, but Derek wasn't fazed. In fact, he gave a genuine laugh and nudged the girl's bare knee with his foot, careful not to disrupt the position of her loose plaid skirt. She was surprisingly preppy looking to be one of Marti's friends.
"You got that right, kiddo."
A hint of affection tinged his voice, and Casey wondered just how well Derek knew Marti's friends. Am I a bad stepsister for never having met them before? she wondered briefly before answering her own question, of course not. I'm just busy with work. And it's Derek with Marti; of course he's met them. Satisfied, she decided to interject.
"Ready to go, Marti?" The teenager rolled her eyes in a manner that obviously said, 'Casey,' knowingly, but she hopped up off the table and grabbed her messenger bag from where she had dropped it against the brick wall.
"Let's get this over with," she added with a woeful sigh. "Later, guys," she dismissed with half a wave over her shoulder as she turned to trudge dramatically toward the teacher's parking lot.
"See you, Molly," Derek added with a gesture of his own as he followed his sister with a laugh. Casey glanced back as she strode after them, watching as the two girls on the bench bent their head together to gossip. Molly smiled serenely at Derek's back before catching Casey watching and giving her a quirked grin. The girl shrugged before her eyes flickered up to listen to her friends conversing, and Casey turned back to watch where she was going with mild embarrassment.
"This is ludicrous," Marti complained two hours later, as the seamstress re-pinned the dress for the umpteenth time.
"Maybe you should have picked a less complicated dress," Derek suggested unhelpfully, causing Casey to sigh and step between them.
"I'm sorry, Marti, but you're almost done. Really," she added, when they younger girl gave her an incredulous look. "It's just that twisted overlay that's causing problems; it's hard to re-sew. She has to make sure to align everything perfectly before you can leave." Casey glanced at the seamstress to make sure her assessment was correct, but the woman hadn't even heard, focused on circling Marti with a scrutinizing glare. Marti obviously didn't care for the reasons, though, so much as she just wanted to be done. Her eyes brightened hopefully when the seamstress suddenly straightened, eying Marti's torso speculatively. She gave a decisive nod before looking up at Marti's face with an understanding smile.
"All finished, dear," she announced, to which Marti sighed in relief, too thankful to really make it sarcastic, and jumped down off the small platform on which she was standing.
"Wait—" Casey yelped at the same time as the other woman ordered, "Carefully!"
Already on the ground, Marti took surprising care walking to the dressing room, obviously not interested in another round of playing pincushion. As the door slammed closed behind her, Derek heaved himself to his feet with a sigh. Casey shook her head; within minutes of entering the small cream room Derek had plopped himself into the armchair in the corner and hadn't moved since.
Unhelpful lout, Casey thought, but her tone was slightly amused. After all, there wasn't really much Derek could have done, anyway. Actually, Casey herself had mostly just flitted around the pair in the middle, watching their progress.
"Time to go," Marti announced cheerfully, hanging the garment on a nearby hook with meticulous care before literally skipping toward the door. Casey would have done a double take if the teenager had been anyone but her stepsister. "Come on, Smerek," she ordered gleefully as he moved to join her. "Let's get out of here."
Casey watched the pair make their way towards Derek's car before turning back to the shop owner.
"Thanks so much," she smiled, shaking the woman's hand.
"Of course, dear," the woman replied, giving her a maternal smile. "I'll call you when it's done."
"Oh, actually," Casey remembered, reaching down to pull one of her many planners from her purse. "If you could just call Kendra, that would be great." She handed her a business card on which she had written out Kendra's number. She knew that would come in handy this week.
"Oh, of course," the woman repeated, accepting the card. "I'll call her. Bye, now."
"Goodbye," Casey said politely as she followed her stepsiblings out to the car.
Surprisingly, Marti had slipped into the back seat, leaving the front open for Casey; Casey was slightly surprised at her consideration, but dismissed it with a smile when she couldn't come up with any reason to be suspicious. Still, the teen leaned forward to stick her head between the two adults, seatbelt too loose to be safe, and chattered the whole way home. She shot Casey the occasional glance, but kept most of her attention focused on her brother. Maybe they haven't seen each other in a few days, Caseymused.
When they pulled in front of their parent's house, Marti bounced back and slid out the door, waving briefly before darting into the house. Casey noticed with a small smile that Derek waiting until the door was closed before pulling away from the curb, but she chose not to mention it. He never liked when people brought up that sort of thing, but she spent so little time with him, it struck her as especially sweet. She glanced back out the window to watch the sky darken as they drove in silence. She said a quick goodbye as they got out of his car, and he strolled up toward his building without another glance backward.
As she walked toward her car, Casey turned her head just enough to watch Derek close the door of his apartment building. Maybe they could be friends again, she found herself hoping. Not like before, but still . . . maybe something was better than the nothing she had been forcing upon them. After all, once Derek was safely married to Kendra she could afford to let her guard down a little; even Casey's obviously skewed sense of morality in the matter wouldn't let her hold out hope then, would it?
It couldn't hurt to try, could it? she asked herself, letting her gaze linger for just a moment more on the solid wood panels before turning once more to drift slowly downward.
GgGgGgGgGgGg
Well, that was the longest chapter yet, I think. For this story, at least. I feel like I have to explain a few things, so if this is overkill fell free to ignore it. Casey has been extremely standoffish so far, and it may seem like she's falling back into things with Derek a little too quickly. I kind of intended it to show that while Casey has all of these rigid ideas, she often lets her emotions get the best of her. Hence, why she and Derek don't spend tons of time together in person. Also, in case the whole "mistaken by some random person as a couple thing" seems a little cliché, I would like to say that for anyone who has a brother your age or best guy friend (I have both), absolutely everyone assumes something. It's annoying, but it is realistic, at least in my experience. So, hope you guys liked the chapter! Let me know what you think, if you would be so kind.
