A Snapshot
Disclaimer: I don't own LwD
AN: Enhoy
A Snap Shot:
Window Pains
Friday
Casey lays in bed on her stomach, deep into chapter 23 of her biology textbook. She has color coded notes written in her perfect handwriting, using those fancy pens her mom had gotten her for her birthday. Classical music plays in the background, and a eucalyptus candle burns on her desk. Everything is intentionally set to help her concentrate.
She was in her own little nerdy bubble of bliss. She was ready to ace her bio exam, two weeks ahead of schedule. But it was Casey and things like that brought her joy.
She was going over practice questions when her phone vibrates next to her. Her stomach drops with just the possibility of who it could be.
Normally, she would shut her phone off when she studies. She would only turn it on during her scheduled breaks. But not today. Today she had been expecting… something. A call or a text. She wasn't sure what. All she knew was that Derek Venturi had asked for her number the day before. And she didn't give it to him, obviously. But Emily, who had this sick and twisted notion that something was going on with the pair, provided Derek with the precious number. And in turn, Casey forced Emily to give her Derek's number. It was only fair so that when he inevitably reached out, she knew which devil she was dealing with.
Derek had been driving her crazy since her first day at SJS high school in September. He was a jerk who loved to tease her. He always managed to get her riled up and flustered. She'd often trip or fall over or something clumsy around him. It was embarrassing. And now he wanted her number? To torment her further outside of school?
Although he drove her crazy... she couldn't help but be excited by the possibility. He wasn't like any of the boys from Fletchers Academy for boys. Derek was unfairly attractive with his floppy messy hair, signature smirk, and a leather jacket. And he wanted her number...
Window.
That's it. That's all the text said.
She flushes. What? Was it supposed to be some sort of coded message? Or was there something at her window? He lived next door to her so technically he could see her bedroom window, something she had to be very cautious about. She frowns in confusion, getting out of bed and walking over to her bedside window to investigate. Her eyes went wide when she pulled her curtains back and was greeted with the sight of Derek Venturi clad in his leather jacket, leaning beside her window.
His presence shocks her like it always does. Derek was just something else. He was beautiful and it was frustrating. Forbidden and bad. From the tips of his calloused fingers to the ends of his shaggy chestnut hair. His eyes were golden brown and soothing; his eyelashes seemed miles long casting shadows on his checks. It always bothered her that guys had the prettiest eyelashes. How was that even fair? She required three coats of mascara to get Derek's type of length.
Without giving it much thought, she threw open the window, needing some sort of explanation. "What-" she starts, but the question didn't even make it out of her mouth before he's turning towards her, interrupting.
"Princess," he greets her, his tone light and airy. Like they had just bumped into each other at the mall and none of it had been planned.
"Derek," she replies, her voice stone.
"Can I come in?" he asks. His voice sounds like it's dripping honey and Casey wants a reach out and taste it. "Please," he adds, looking down at her from underneath his lashes and in the darkness of night, Derek looks like an angel.
In what world is she strong enough to say no to him? There he was with the puppy dog eyes and voice that sent lighting down her body. Impossible, she simply can't say no. She let out a heavy breath, stepping aside, granting him access.
Grinning he climbs through the wide-open window and directly into her bedroom. His eyes twinkled with the promise of mischief as if she needed any other signs to confirm that he was trouble. So much trouble. And in her bedroom.
But after two months of knowing him, she was skilled in the art of how to seem cool and collected around Derek. Because yes, it was an art form and Casey was an excellent student... most of the time. But not when he was in her room and she's suddenly forgetting how to breathe.
She watches him from her spot by the window, his eyes skating over the intricate details of her bedroom slowly, making her feel exposed, vulnerable and naked in front of him. What was he seeing? What embarrassing thing would he fixate on and tease her about later? Her ballet slippers that hung on a hook on her wall? The teddy bear her dad had gotten her sitting on her desk? A blush painted her cheek at the simple thought. Her mind raced hoping anything embarrassing was put away.
She cleared her throat and her thoughts before speaking. "What are you doing here?" she asks, trying to sound threatening, crossing her arms over her chest trying to feel some kind of defense from his lingering eyes. As if she wasn't seeing through her already.
She watched him fall into her desk chair, pulling a teddy bear into his arms. It shouldn't be adorable, but it is. It was like seeing him and Marti. It made her heart flutter in all the wrong ways. (Or the right ways?) It was truly unfair. "I wanted to see you," he explains with a shrug like it was a casual occurrence between them.
Was he kryptonite? It felt that way. She felt the loss of control around him. Like a weak and easy target.
She doesn't believe that he just wanted to see her. She doesn't believe him for a second. Why would Derek Venturi want to see her? Unless it was a prank, a joke on her he wanted to see through, he didn't want to see her. Not like that at least. "You can't be here," she replies, holding her ground, ignoring his comment.
Derek shakes his head, a sly grin pulling at the corners of his lips and its distracting. She tore her eyes away from his lips but it's no use. She feels her heart slamming across her chest. She swears she could hear it, could he? Does he know that he makes her nervous? Does he do it on purpose?
"I knew you'd say that. Boys not allowed in your room McDonald?" he counters, but he doesn't give her a second to answer. He knows the truth. "Not like it matters anyway, Lizzie's at my house working on a school project with Ed. And your mom's not home," he explains easily, looking very smug about it.
"And how would you know?" she asks her hand lands on her hip. She's annoyed by his arrogance. She hates how sure of himself he is, all the time. She wants to knock him down a peg, even though he's right. How would he even know?
He leans forward elbows on his knees and his narrow like he's ready for battle. It was almost like he likes fighting with her the way he always tempting her. It makes a shiver shoot down her spine. How easy it would be to give in. To be like every other girl hopelessly in love with him. She refuses. She stiffens, her body statuesque.
"Cause her car's not parked outside," he explains in a hushed tone, like its secret and she's an idiot.
This time Casey can't help but flush in embarrassment. He made a valid point and she should have realized that even Derek Venturi could put two and two together. But still. It didn't mean he could be in her room. Disturbing the studying environment that she had painstaking put together. After all, she was expecting a text, not a visit.
"Well, what if I don't want you here?" It was a lie, but her last attempt at pushing him away.
Derek sat back again, shrugging easily. "We both know you do," he replied, his tongue peeking out to slowly lick his lips. Like she needed another reason to stare at the stupid mouth of his. Did he ever shut up? Could she make him? "Why are you coped up in your room studying on a Friday night? Why didn't you come to my game? There's an after party you know."
Casey sighs giving up the battle, sitting on the edge of her bed reluctantly. He was staying for a while, might as well get comfortable. "I don't like hockey. And if there's a party, why are you here?" she counters. It was true she didn't like hockey. But she had gone to a few of the home games. She wanted to see what the big deal was about it. And watching him on the ice... she understood. Derek was really good but she'd never say that out loud.
"Well, I was hoping to convince you to come with me but..." he shrugged again, getting up, making his way back towards the open window.
Had Derek really come all that way to her house to ask her to go to the party with him? No way. In what universe?
"But I guess I'll just go...alone," he said, sighing dramatically, turning to look at her.
No. He was just messing with her. "You could use the front door like a normal person you neanderthal," she rolls her eyes. Because really, there was an easier exit readily available!
"This is more fun. See you on Monday, Princess."
And with a sly wink her way, he was gone into the night.
How was she supposed to get back to studying when her entire room smelled like woodsy smoke and Derek? The scent was better than any candle she had ever smelled.
Monday
Derek doesn't make it to history class. At least not on time. But when he does stroll in, with a late pass for , he plops himself into the seat directly behind Casey.
She's stiff and on edge the entire class knowing that Derek was just biding his time. He would say something or do something... eventually. She swears she could feel the ghost of his fingers hovering on the back of her neck, but the touch never came. She was almost disappointed.
"You really missed out on that party Friday night, McDonald," he whispers behind her. He's close enough that she can feel his warm breath against her ear sending goosebumps down her back. He must have leaned forward in his seat to reach her. Why did he put so much effort into messing with her? It was unnerving.
She flexes her jaw and says nothing. There's nothing to say. She doesn't have a witty remark and she's too wound up on the way his breath feels against her skin and the idea of him staring at her. She can hardly hear 's lecture. Stupid Derek.
Thursday
When Casey sees Derek walking down the hallway, beeline-ing it towards her, she freezes. She must be confused. There was no way he's looking directly at her? Maybe someone behind her? She looks around for an escape but she can't find one; there's nowhere to go.
"Klutzilla!" he beams the nickname like it's the sweetest endearment he could ever muster up. He throws an arm over her shoulder when he reaches her. His arm is heavy and warm against her body, but still, she wants to be very far away from it and him.
"Jerk!" she replies with the same enthusiasm and fake smile.
"Let me walk you to lunch," he says, leading them to the cafeteria.
"I'm good, thanks," she replies shrugging his arm off her shoulder. The familiar arm was comfortable and she hates it.
"Come on, don't be like that. I missed you," he teases, bumping her shoulder playfully. He even gives her one of his stupid smiles and it makes her insides melt and her thought muddle together.
"You missed me?" she asks confused, not being able to rationalize the words coming out of his mouth. It's not the first time he says something like that. But still, it confuses her.
She hadn't seen him around school all week. They had very different schedules and only had History class together. And even then, he had been paired up with Kendra for their history project, so Casey didn't get to see very much of him, except across the room with Kendra. She had to admit to feeling a little jealous of Kendra. She was breathing in that Derek trademark scent and was on the receiving end of his smiles.
"Yeah," he nods like it's the most obvious thing in the world. "I'll catch you later, Case," he replies when they reach the cafeteria door. "Bon apple tea!" He purposely butchers the phrase to make her laugh.
He clearly didn't have the same lunch period, but just wanted to walk her over? What was he up to?
"Der-ek!" she mutters to herself but he is already gone. He was really starting to get under her skin and she hated it.
One week later
It had been a long week and Casey could not wait to get home and curl up into a good book with some peppermint tea. But of course, something was stopping her. Or someone.
She finds Derek leaning against her car in the parking lot. A notebook in one hand his phone in the other as he scrolls through it.
Casey takes a deep breath knowing she would need it. "What are you doing?" Casey asks Derek, suspicious of his presence.
"Waiting for you," he replied, stuffing his phone into his pocket. "I can not believe you are going to the dance with Truman," he groans throwing his head back in frustration like the news is hitting him all over again.
That's what he wanted to talk to her about? "You know Derek if you wanted to ask me to the dance, you should have," she spat back like an insult. The words flew out of her mouth before she managed to even consider them. She expects him to laugh. Why would he ask her to the dance? Her face burns, anticipating his response.
Something unfamiliar flickers across his features. What was that? Vulnerability? His eyes look down at the pavement for a second before he composes himself once more. "If I asked you to homecoming, you would have thought it was a joke," he reasons, sounding hurt by the idea.
She was speechless. He didn't make a joke about never wanting to go with her.
"Right?" he asked nudging her shoe with his foot, his voice filling up with his trademark humor.
She nods slowly. "Probably," she answers, her voice soft and quiet. She feels like she lost that battle between the two.
"Maybe I'll see you there," he shrugs, pulling away from her car and walking away.
She stares at him, watching him go. She doesn't know why, but something in the pit of her stomach turns and she feels almost heartbroken by the encounter. It didn't make sense.
One week later
Truman was fine. The dance was fine. Everything was… just fine. Until she spots Derek across the gym. He's wearing a white button down with far too many buttons undone, the sleeves are rolled up and paired with black pants. She's never seen him look so put together. His everyday jeans tshirt and leather jacket combo had become a second skin to him. His armor. But seeing him like that, even halfway dressed up, it made her stomach do the backflip toe touch spin kind of thing. And maybe she shouldn't be thinking about Derek in that way when she's literally in another man's arms, but she can't help it.
She blinks away thoughts of him, looking at Truman in front of her. Truman. Think about Truman, Casey tells herself to no avail.
"You alright?" Truman asks.
She nods, not trusting her voice to answer him. And then she hears him.
"Truman!" Derek appears behind them, clapping Truman's shoulder with a strong grip. "Can I steal her for a sec?" Derek asks. It doesn't sound like much of a request. His features are stone and serious and she's never seen Derek so stoic. It's always a joke or a smirk with him.
Casey is stunned. Stunned that Derek was there, that he changed out of his leather jacket, and that he wanted to dance with her.
Tuman stares at Derek for a second too long. Casey knows he is contemplating saying no, but then she feels his hands go limp against her. Truman reluctantly sighs, taking a step back. "Go for it," he replies through gritted teeth, clearly not pleased with Derek's request.
Derek doesn't give Truman another glance before turning to Casey, offering her his hand. "May I?" he asks, like an old timey gentleman and it's endearing as hell.
She bites back a smile and pretends to think about it for a moment. But of course, she allows it. Her hand falls into his and she swears sparks tingle between their skin. "You may," she says, finally smiling up at him.
Derek's hands are huge compared to hers. Her hand is so small and delicate against his palm. She feels the rough patches, enjoying the contrast between their skin. For a second she thinks about what his rough hands would feel like on the soft parts of her...
Derek looks down at her, smiling like he had won, placing his other hand on the curve of her waist.
"You look..." he starts, eyes slow trailing down the features of her face, taking in every inch of the pink satin dress. She feels his eyes as they travel down her body, she even feels it when his eyes linger on her curves where the material clings. It feels good to be seen by him. Really good. He doesn't finish his sentence, he doesn't have to. She knows where his words were headed.
Her skin burns under his touch and an intense stare. How could it not? Was he really going to compliment her? "You came," she whispers like a secret meant for only them.
He nods, his eyes returning to her's after a long journey down her body. "Of course. I had to come save you." He doesn't even sound like he's joking. But a smile twitches at the corner of his mouth and she just knows he's soaking in their moment together.
"Save me?" she counters, confused.
"From Truman," he supplies, not being able to hold back a grin and longer. He thought he was so funny, didn't he?
Casey rolls her eyes but does not fall for the trap he lays out for her. "Who are you here with?" she asks looking around for a brooding Kendra.
"No one," he replies, going serious again.
She eyes him in disbelief. "Yeah right. Like you'd look this good just to come here alone," she scoffs, offended that he would think she was that clueless.
She knows she messed up by the smirk that pulls at the corner of his mouth. "You think I look good?" he asks, his voice so smooth it melts parts of her.
Finding a grip on reality, she ignores him. She couldn't think of an answer that would work in her favor. Because yes, she thought he looked good. He always looked good and it bothered her to no end.
In the midst of their back and forth she almost forgets that she's dancing- well swaying, with Derek Venturi. It was nice. It felt comfortable, normal even. She didn't peg him for much of a dancer, but he was holding his own.
And then Derek spins her. She wasn't expecting it, so she stumbles into the spin. He anchors her, not let go of her hand, pulling her back to him easily. She particularly trips on her own two feet, a squeak coming out of her before she collides into his chest with a thud. He wraps his free hand around her waist tight, holding her upright and flush against him. They had never been that close before. The first thing she notices is that Derek's body feels like it's made of stone. The boy never misses hockey practice, does he? She tries to rip her eyes away from him because it all feels too intimate and being that close to him, it feels like it could be more. Lead to more…
Derek look's pleased with himself, grinning down at her like an idiot. She knows he loves catching her klutzy moments. And one he caused, even better.
Casey clears her throat and steadies herself, pulling away from her hold on Derek. She huffs and pretends to be annoyed but in reality, she's just embarrassed. And there's a possibility that she's a little flustered because she got a feel what was underneath his clothes, and it did things to her. Things she didn't want to think about.
"So, do you need saving?" he asks, bringing back the topic, swaying with her once more. The stupid joy in his face only amplified.
"I'm not a damsel in distress, Derek," she spits back hoping there was some heat behind her words. But she didn't feel it. She was in a little bubble of Derek. His smell, his body, his golden brown eyes, and his lips curled into the stupid smile. She was putty in his hands.
Derek nodded, as the song was ending, his hands falling from her body slowly. She feels a chill replace all the places his warm skin had been. "No, I guess you're not," his words are so soft she almost misses it. "I'll let you get back to your date then," he adds, taking a step away from her.
And he was gone, not daring to look back at her. She watches him leave, questioning if he was even really there. Was it even real?
No one claims to see him for the rest of the night.
A month later
Dating Truman was a distraction. He was cute enough and seemed interested in her. And she had to get her mind off a certain hockey player, so Truman fit the bill. It was all very… interesting.
That day at school they had gotten into a fight. A bigger fight than Casey had anticipated. They had made plans to stay in and watch a movie together. But Truman wanted to go to Ralph's party instead. In the end, Truman stormed off, annoyed with Casey and she was left in the hallway confused by his outburst. Was it really that serious? In hopes of being a good girlfriend, Casey decided to just give in and surprised Truman at Ralph's. She could be flexible if he was willing to compromise. Relationships were a give and take and she still felt guilty about harboring a crush on Derek while dating Truman, so she figured she could give a little. She knew Truman had made it to the party, Emily had confirmed it. Casey's eyes scanned every room full of teenagers, looking for her annoying boyfriend.
Instead of Truman, her eyes find Derek first. She spots him talking to Sam and Ralph in the living room. He was wearing a plain black tshirt, the short sleeves rolled up against his biceps as if he needed more attention to his arms. His arms were the reason his slap shot was legendary after all. Or so she hears. The black material of his shirt was pulled taut across his chest and it was truly unfair. He even had a little curl of hair hanging down that made Casey's fingers itched to push it back. He had a hand in his jeans pocket, the other holding his beer. He was the picture of a cool high school jock... like the poster hot guy in any teen drama.
Casey shook her head trying to rid her thoughts of Derek and the ridiculous way he filled out a tshirt. Stupid hockey. Stupid Derek. But then he laughs and his eyes crinkle at the corner and it's so infectious that she smiles as well. He must have felt her staring at him because his soft smile fades and turns into a wicked smirk when his eyes find hers. His eyes darken, like a hunter finding its prey. He tips his beer up in her general direction before bringing it to his lips. And dear god she wishes she was that bottle. She really can't help but stare and watch his adam's apple bob with every gulp he takes.
She was way too deep.
Slowly she takes a deep breath. How could he have such an effect on her? From across the room with nothing but eye contact he had her, hook line and sinker. If she didn't know better, she'd go to him, but she did know better. Derek Venturi was in trouble and she had to stay away from him.
She shook her head clear of the fog and turned. She had to find Truman! Truman, Truman, Truman!
Eventually, she finds Truman at the end of a hallway, but he's not alone. Oh no, he's pressed up against a blonde, pinning her against the hallway wall. Casey was almost impressed by the way his tongue was working groans out of blondie's mouth. He had never kissed her like that. Maybe she just never allowed it... Casey's stomach turns in all the wrong ways and she feels sick.
This. This is why she should have left Truman French alone. This is what she gets for using him as a distraction from Derek. She gets very publicly humiliated and cheated on at a party she was supposed to be at with him! She wanted to surprise him... but he surprised her. She doesn't even realize she's crying till the salty tear hits her lip. She brushes them away quickly, turning to leave. She had to get out of there before she completely fell apart.
She almost makes it to the front door when she hears Derek's voice behind her. Everyone around her is too preoccupied with each other to even glance her way. And for that she's thankful.
"Casey," Derek calls, his voice hovering above the loud music around the. He catches her arm before she manages to get too far from him.
She doesn't look at him, eyes trained on the ground, willing her eyes to pull it together for just a second. "Let me go, Derek," she grits out, her voice faltering. The hurt laced in every syllable and she knows he heard it.
"Woah, what's wrong?" he asks, his hand trailing down her arm to her hand. His fingers leaving little trails of fire in their wake. If it were any other moment her fingertips might reach out to lace with his.
"Derek. Please. Let me go," she begs him. She even gives in and looks up at him because she knows it was the only way he'd actually let her go. If he saw that she wasn't picking a fight, that she wasn't being dramatic or feisty...if he saw that there was something utterly wrong, he would let her go. She knew he would. So she turns her head and looks at him, with watery eyes.
"Shit," he curses and pales when he sees her, really sees her. His hand drops away from her.
She doesn't hesitate a second before running away from him and straight out the front door. She thinks she hears him call out behind her, but she doesn't dare look back.
Later that night
There's a knock on her window. She knew it was coming. Of course, Derek was going to show up. But she wished she had missed it. She wished she was so deep into a tear induced slumber that she didn't notice him. But she was awake and he was knocking. She squeezes her eyes shut and tries her best to ignore him, surely he would give up eventually. But Derek's persistent. When she doesn't answer his knocks, he texts her.
Open up, Casey.
Please.
Casey bites her lip in anguish. Please isn't a regular word in Derek's vocabulary. She considers getting up but doesn't move an inch.
"Casey," he groans from outside her window.
She's not sure if he meant for her to hear it or not. But she does. She could hear something in his voice. He sounded so...concerned?
She sighs in defeat, throwing her legs over the side of her bed to get up. She rubs her face and tries to fix her hair. She knows she looks like a mess but hopes it's enough. She knows her eyes are red rimmed and swollen. The tip of her nose pink and her cheeks still flushed. She hasn't stopped crying. Not yet. It was still too fresh. It's not that she's heartbroken. She's not. She liked Truman, sure. But that was all. They had hardly dated for a month. She wasn't sad that he cheated on her. She was embarrassed that he so publicly did it. That the hallways on Monday would be talking about it. She was more so disappointed in herself for letting herself think he was worth her time. Deep down she knew he wasn't. There had been so many red flags. But she was so utterly convinced that dating Truman was better than her ridiculous pinning for Derek.
She had been so wrong.
She pushes back her curtain and sees him, leaning against the side of her house, his head was thrown back, hands stuffed in his pocket. He looked like he was praying, looking up at the stars. But he was probably just biding his time. He hadn't noticed her. She takes a deep breath and pulls open her bedroom window.
He turns when he hears her movements.
"Derek, I'm really not in the -" the rest of the words die on her lips.
"Is it over?" he asks, interrupting her. He looks pained by the sight of her. But he doesn't move to enter her room like he normally would. He just moves in front of her window, holding on to the frame for support.
"What?" she asks, confused. What is he going on about?
"Is it over? You and Truman. Or are you gonna forgive him?" he clarifies, wincing at the last part.
"It's over," she answers without hesitation. Truman probably didn't know it yet. He probably didn't even know Casey was at that party. But she was done. She doesn't even want to speak to him.
Derek nods slowly. "Good. Cause I punched him in the face and I was hoping you wouldn't be mad," he explains with a shrug.
"You punched him?" The words don't make sense. So she repeats them looking for the explanation in them. Derek punched Truman. Derek… punched… Truman?
"Yeah."
"Why?"
Derek stares at her for a second, choosing his words wisely. He opens his mouth and closes it again. "You know why," he finally answers, softer that time.
And she does. Or at least she thinks she does? There was only one reason she could think of, but she refused to believe it. "And you didn't want me to be mad at you?" she asks to clarify. Because that wasn't Derek's MO. He lived to piss her off.
He nods in response.
Caseys' eyebrow kicks up in disbelief. Nothing made sense. "Since when? You always want to piss me off," she reminds him. She reminds herself as well. When did their dynamic change? Somewhere between him pranking her with a glitter bomb into her locker and showing up at her window that first time?
Derek doesn't bother answering her. "Good night, Princess," he says, turning away from her window, heading over to his house.
Princess. He hadn't called her that in a while. He had kept his distance since homecoming. Since she had started dating Truman. Derek had given her space and respected her relationship, apparently more than Truman had. Of course, every once in a while he'd catch her between classes. He'd appear out of nowhere and make a comment about Truman being trash, earn himself an eye roll and a " Der-ek!" and then he'd disappear again. Truman hadn't been a fan of Derek since homecoming. "Why won't Derek leave you alone?" he'd grumble, and Casey would brush it off.
She was starting to realize that Truman may have had a reason to be wary of Derek. And Derek… well, he was definitely right about Turman.
Monday
The following Monday Casey finds Derek leaning by her locker at third period. She spots him before he sees her, so she uses the seconds to her advantage. She could waste hours staring at him. He was absolutely beautiful wearing his standard jeans, tshirt and leather jacket combo. She wonders for a second how it would feel to wear his jacket. Rumor has it that no girlfriend had managed to slip into it. Not even Kendra. Casey wonders how it would feel draped over her shoulders. Heavy probably. But warm and inviting. Derek's scent lingering deep into the threads of the fabric….
"How's the hand, Romeo?" she asks when she reaches him.
She never did thank him for punching Truman. But she thinks he knows that she's grateful for it. She hadn't seen Truman all day. He probably didn't even go to school. The rumor mill was viciously claiming that Derek punched Truman up because of a blonde, no one really mentioning Casey. They were all so wrong. Derek punched Truman for a brunette. Dereks visibly taken back, surprised by her tone. Still, he looks down at his hand, making a fist and splaying his fingers out a few times, wiggling them, considering her question. "A little swollen," he shrugs, and Casey can see the pink tinted knuckles. "Will you kiss it to make it better?" he teases with one of his flirty little smiles.
Casey pulled her bio textbook out of her locker before glancing at him. "Maybe some other time?" she offers, a hint of a smile pulling at her lips. She slams the locker door closed and walks away from him, leaving him to his thoughts.
After a few steps, she turns to him again. He hadn't moved an inch. "Good luck on your game tonight!" she adds, giving him the full smile he earned.
Derek's eyes go wide like he can't believe Casey could ever be so sweet to him. But she's gone before the comment even registrars.
Later that night
Derek doesn't need to knock at her window that night, because it's already open. She had been waiting for him to show up in her room after his game. She knew he'd come. She wanted him to.
She was laying up in bed with her Spanish textbook, making notes when his knock came.
"Come in," she says, not moving an inch. It was sweet of him to knock even though she had left the window open for him to easily climb through. And Derek didn't do sweet...
"Hey," he starts when he climbs through the window. His voice sounds… off. And Casey isn't sure how to read him.
"Hey," she replies easily. Something feels different between them, and she likes it. She looks up from her textbook, no longer surprised by his appearance in her bedroom. She had come to enjoy their time together.
"You alright?" he asks tentatively, taking his preferred seat at her desk. He looks on edge like she's a ticking time bomb he's trying to disarm her before time is up.
"Yeah I'm good," she shrugs, sitting up in bed to get a better look at him from across the room.
"Why are you being weird?" he asks, eyeing her like she had grown a second head.
"How am I being weird?" she counters.
"Well," he leans back in her desk chair. He licks his lips slowly like he's counting the ways. "You flirted with me at school today. You wished me luck on my game. And you left the window open. What's going on with you? You sick or something?" he asks, arching an eyebrow.
She rolls her eyes not justifying him with an answer. "Do you like me, Derek?" she asks. She knows she's blunt but she had been thinking about it all weekend. And if she's wrong she won't ever hear the end of it. Hell, even if she's right he'd never stop talking about it. But she has to know. She has to try. They had spent months going around each other. And now there is no Truman in the way. Her thought of Derek had quickly taken over her every thought, and for once she embraced them.
"What?" He clearly wasn't expecting the question to come out of her mouth and is taken off guard by her.
"Do you like me?" she asks slowly, punctuating each word with a pause like she was talking to a five year old.
Derek shifts uncomfortably in his chair. He wasn't ready for her to be so blunt. "Well," he starts, biding his time. "Yeah, obviously," he finally answers with a shrug.
And for the first time that they've known each other, it's Casey who smirks at him. "Cool." She tries not to react, but her mind explodes in fireworks like the end of a Disney movie, because the hot guy, the one she's been refusing to give into all year, likes her. He really likes her. And it may have taken her a while to come around to the idea, but she likes him too.
"Do you like me?" he counters and it almost sounds like an insult. But she can tell he's just being defensive, preparing himself for the possibility of being turned down. Something Derek Venturi does not deal with often.
"I think I might," she finally admits out loud, stunning Derek. But before he could get a word in, she goes on. "So, how was your game?" she asks nonchalant, pulling a pillow into her lap.
Derek takes a second to catch up with the subject change. He leans back in her desk chair again, his shirt riding up to expose a sliver of skin between his shirt and jeans and Casey's mind goes foggy again. "Well, if you went, you'd know!" he counters his words finding their normal heat again. The one Casey was all too familiar with.
"Maybe if I had a reason to go…" she trails off.
"I thought I was your reason?" he argues, his voice low and husky and it does something to her.
Maybe Derek wasn't so bad.
Two weeks later
Things with Derek had been moving slow. Mostly because Casey was still post break up. So they floated in limbo, teasing the line of what was considered appropriate. Casey really didn't want to jump into anything else. She didn't want to be that girl. But being around Derek made it so very hard to hold anything back. The simple act of Derek locking eyes with her from across the hallway in school made her legs feel like jello.
One day, the force keeping them away from each other just snaps, and Derek finally kisses her. Their first kiss was bound to be amazing. There was so much anticipation; months of build up leading up to the moment. Her legs still felt like jello when he had her pinned between her car that afternoon after class. The only reason she was still vertical was that Derek was holding her up, pressing his body along hers, pressing her directly into her passenger side door. And it should hurt. But she was numb to everything but him. His smell was intoxicating and she wanted to bathe in it. He had one hand splayed along her waist, a few fingers teasing the bare skin between her shirt and jeans. His tumb was absentmindedly skimming just under at the bottom of her breast. His other hand was cupping her face, tilting her up to just the right angle. Casey holds onto him for dear life. Her arm wrapped around his neck like life support. She feels like she is going to fall apart or float away and she needs him to be her anchor.
He tastes like peppermint, his tongue warm and soft moving against hers in a perfect way. Casey had kissed her share of boys but on one had ever kissed her as he did. His lips were soft and pillowy, even though she was 99% sure he didn't even own lip balm. Boy's genetics were completely and utterly unfair but when he's pressed up against her she doesn't mind too much.
Who gave him the right to kiss like that? How had he perfected the skill? He kissed like Casey assumed a man would. Not like a nervous teenage boy should. And well that's probably because Derek had never been nervous around her. He knew what he was doing and she tried not to think about the line of girls that had gotten him this good. But before her thoughts can become bitter, he sucks on her bottom lip and suddenly she's oh so thankful. Every kiss before this was practice.
When he pulls away, he's staring down at her from hooded eyes. His impossibly long eyelashes brushing over the tops of his checks. "Can I see you tonight?" he asks, his voice low and husky, filled with promises that Casey can't wait to fulfill. But that tone he had been using since that night where they talked about their feelings. She still had to get used to the timbre of his voice. It sent waves of tingles through her body.
"Maybe," she offers. Her lips still humming, her mind mushed; she finds it hard to form basic words, let alone a witty come back.
A grin pulls across features. He likes that Casey doesn't just give into him. That she makes him work for it and stand's her ground. They would banter, flirt and fight and enrage each other. Casey couldn't wait to start kissing their frustrations away.
In reality, Casey said maybe because she's not sure if they could be trusted alone in her bedroom. Not after that one kiss sent her spiraling in a public parking lot. Alone... in a room with a bed? She might maul him. Or he might devour her. Either way, it would be too much too soon.
"So, you'll leave the window open?" he asks, his thumb tracing her bottom lip so delicately she barely feels. The sweet gesture further melts her. Derek venturi was 100% swoon worthy and he knew it.
"I guess you'll have to wait and see," she murmurs, pressing him down to meet her in another kiss.
One month later
Dating Derek is different. It had been a month, but she's still not used to it. She still feels his eyes linger on her while she studies and it unravels her. His kisses still melt her like an ice cream cone in July. But that's okay, he's always sure to have her pinned against something, especially after that one time where she did kind of fall over. Thankfully Derek had her. So now he makes sure to press her up against a locker, a car, his body or a bed. Regardless of where they were, Casey was always left breathless, while Derek was left looking smug and unaffected. But she knew better.
"Hey, Derek! I didn't hear you come in," Nora smiles, crossing her arms across her chest, hip leaning against the door jam. Her body language saying what her words implied. Of Course, she didn't hear him come in. He never used the front door.
"Hey, Mrs. McDonald. Don't you look lovely today?" Derek smiles, laying it on real thick.
Derek could charm anyone. ANYONE! Even Jerry the ice cream man. But Nora...She wasn't having it, and Casey could tell.
"Hey mom, I'm just helping Derek with his English paper about Ivanhoe," Casey jumps in before Derek had a chance to say anything else to make Nora suspect.
"I'm sure you are," Nora counters, not buying it for a second. "Door stays open, understood?" She adds, giving both teenagers pointed looks.
They both nodded to Nora, who moves to leave, but she stops before she gets too far. "Oh, and Derek," she calls again, popping just her head in.
"Yes ma' ma?" he asks, still using his sweet voice.
"I like you, I do! But if I catch you sneaking into Casey's room again I will make your life very difficult. I hear your dad's single. Wonder how you'd feel about the two of us… going out for drinks," she teases. "Would you mind? Your dad going out with your girlfriend's mom?" Nora asks, keeping her voice just as sweet.
Casey sees Derek stiffen, and she really wants to laugh. But it's not funny. Because she knows her mom is not joking.
"I'll use the front door," he answers after a beat, clearing his throat. He looks like he's seen a ghost, and Casey has never seen him look so afraid. And of her mom no less.
With a tight smile, Nora's gone.
"Do you think she was serious?" Derek whispers after a while when they know Noras out of earshot.
"I wouldn't want to find out," Casey shrugs. She had always been a good kid, her mom never needing to ground her or anything. But she knew her mom was capable of it.
Derek groans in frustration, returning his eyes to his notes. Casey watches him press his pen pressed against his lips, eyes narrowed in concentration. His hair is falling slightly, with his head bowed the way it is. At the moment Casey wanted nothing more than to climb into his lap and put his mouth to better use.
Maybe they should study at Derek's house instead... Although she knows it wouldn't be productive at all, Derek was allowed to have his bedroom door closed. And Edwin never dared come inside. But in the privacy of his room, they were very good at working out any pent up frustration. Derek was possessive when he got her alone. Greedy in the most delicious of ways. His hands always finding the curve of her hip, fingers digging in, trying to bring her impossibly closer. And she held on, her hand gripping his hair like a life source, her back arching into his body, exposing miles of her own skin to him, begging him to brand her. And he was willing to oblige to her every request. She had finally discovered what his calloused hands felt like against the softest part of her. It made liquid fire licks its way up from the tips of her toes to where she needed him most. And Derek was always willing to please his princess. And he had quite the book of tricks.
"Case?" Derek's voice calls her back to reality.
"Hm?" She asks, flushed and dazed by the memory and the overwhelming desire to revisit it very soon.
"Can you read this?" he asks again, dropping his notebook on the bed next to her.
He would be the end of her. But she didn't really mind anymore.
AN: This started off in my mind as a "cute little HS!Dasey moment fic!" And then it became this pinning mess. And I've read too many fantasy books lately where the love interest is described like a literal angel and I thought Derek Venturi deserves that. I may not be able to write it, but I'll try!
Anyway, I hope you like it!
Not sure if this is a two-parter or a one and done. But I mean.. don't we need to hear what those few months were like for Derek? ;)
In any world, step-siblings or not, Derek Venturi would have loved Casey McDonald. (And also tease her- because, duh.) Give me more of them as next-door neighbors/ highschool school sweethearts etc. I just love them, ok?
