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Lizzie regarded her thoughtfully for a moment. "Well, has she gone through the stages?"
"What stages?" repeated Casey.
"The three stages of a crush," she said matter-of-factly. "Edwin told me. There are three specific stages you go through when liking someone: denial, anger, and acceptance."
Casey mulled over her sister's words. "So, if I- I mean my friend, experiences the stages, it's a real crush?"
"Usually," Lizzie nodded.
Making her way into the kitchen, Casey dropped her bag and sat down at the island.
"Morning, sweetheart," Nora smiled. "Breakfast?"
"Morning. Any blueberry bagels left?" she asked.
"Last one. Grab a plate-"
"No time!" Derek interrupted, snatching the bagel.
"Derek!" the MacDonald's barked in unison.
Derek leaned over the counter, shoving cream cheese packets in his pockets. "Sorry, Nora. Party supply store opens in twenty, so we'll have to take breakfast to-go."
Casey noticed he had changed out of his pajamas. She also noticed, to her horror, his toned arms through the thin fabric of his sweater.
Derek plopped onto the barstool beside her and slung his arm around her shoulders. "We've got this party completely under control. Isn't that right, Case?"
When she didn't immediately respond, Derek pinched the skin on her upper arm.
"Hey!"
"Isn't that right?" he repeated.
"Completely under control," she said flatly.
Nora grabbed a paper off the fridge. "Here's the decorations list. Are you sure you two can handle this?"
"It's no problem!" he boasted. "Well, better get a move on." Derek grabbed Casey again, pulling her off the stool.
"But breakfast," she protested.
"Will have to wait!" He called over his shoulder, "So many decorations, so little time!"
Marti Venturi appeared at the top of the stairs. "Smerek! Where are you going?"
"Party business, Smarti. We'll be back later."
"Fun!" Marti chirped, bouncing down the stairs. "Can I come?"
He continued toward the front door. "Sorry Smarti, not this time."
She dropped her head sullenly.
"We'll hang out tonight, okay?" he offered.
Frowning still, Marti lumbered into the living room.
Derek let out a long sigh. Walking over to the couch, he dropped to his knees. "Come on, Smarti. Forgive me?"
The youngest Venturi didn't budge.
"Foorrggiivvee mee?" he bellowed. Marti could never resist his whale impression.
A smile spread across the girl's face. Suddenly, Derek stretched out his arms and tickled her sides.
Marti burst into giggles, wiggling frantically.
"Uncle! Uncle!" she gasped.
"Uncle? I'm your brother!" he exclaimed.
Casey laughed watching them.
She had always admired their relationship. Marti was one of the only people Derek willingly showed affection. With Marti, he could be goofy and sweet without worrying about his "cool guy rep". Derek's words, not hers.
I guess he's not always a jerk.
Finally catching her breath, Marti pushed herself upright. "Fine, I'll forgive you. If we have a movie marathon tonight." She extended her pinky, "Deal?"
Derek linked his finger around hers. "Deal," he winked.
Casey glanced at her watch. Stepping beside him, she tenderly ran her hand up Derek's arm. "We should get going."
It was only when she saw Derek's face, a mix of confusion and disgust, did she realize what she had just done.
Shoving her hands into her pockets, the MacDonald spun on her heel and sprinted to the car.
Everything is fine, this is nothing.
Denial
The Prince always smelled the same: half Derek's cologne, half hockey bag.
She had described it as "rancid" on more than one occasion, but the smell didn't bother Casey that morning.
As Derek slid into the driver seat, Casey prayed he had forgotten the uncharacteristic caress.
"Surprised you're signing us up for so much responsibility. How very me of you," she observed.
"Us?" Derek chided. "There is no 'us', Crappy. I am dropping you off at the supply store, and then I am meeting Sam at the mall."
Casey felt her face heat with anger. "So, I'm picking up," she scanned the list, "thirty items by myself?"
"You catch on quick," he smiled, starting the ignition.
"How am I supposed to get home? Walk?"
"Of course not, it's way too far," he cooed.
Casey relaxed in her seat.
"Hitching's your best bet."
"I swear, Derek! You are the laziest, most irresponsible-"
Wait!
Do you really want to spend an entire day alone with Derek?
You can't accidentally spill anything if he's not around.
"Fine."
Derek's hand froze on the gearshift. "What?"
"Fine," she repeated. "I'll get the decorations myself."
He's not buying it.
"Not like you're going to be much help anyway," she added with more bite.
Derek eyed her suspiciously. "I'm coming."
"Seriously, I can-"
"Oh no, I'm coming! After your little episode yesterday, I'm not taking any chances. Seriously, what's up with you lately?" Derek asked, annoyed. There was another emotion, too, but Casey couldn't place it.
They sat there staring at each other for what felt like an hour, until Derek blinked a few times and shoved the last of the bagel in his mouth.
They didn't speak for the rest of the drive. Casey thanked God for that.
Walking into the store, Casey smiled. While spending the day with Derek wasn't ideal, she couldn't help but feel at ease. Lists, planning, and responsibility were her happy place. Not to mention, having something to focus on other than her confusing step-brother was a well-appreciated distraction.
She pulled a pen out of her bag and reviewed the list.
"Okay, first we need to get all the food supplies. Paper plates, napkins, utensils..."
Derek moved down the aisle. "So, what's going on with you lately?" he asked, leaning languidly against the shopping cart.
"Nothing," Casey said, keeping her eyes fixed on the plastic cups.
"You've been a spazz-" he started again, "more of a spazz than usual since yesterday. Why are you so worried about this party?"
"Drop it, Derek." The MacDonald continued scanning the shelves.
"We have three days, that's plenty of time to get everything ready. Even by your anal-retentive standards."
Casey rolled her eyes and tossed napkins into the cart.
He stopped in front of her. "Unless you're not worried about the party?" Derek raised his arms on either side of her, backing her against the shelves. "You're worried about who's coming to the party."
He figured it out.
OF COURSE, HE FIGURED IT OUT! YOU MOLESTED HIS ARM, YOU WEIRDO!
Casey tried to look nonchalant, but the sweat beading on her forehead threatened to give her away.
"I d-don't know what you're talking about," she sputtered.
Derek lifted her chin with his finger, forcing their eyes to meet. "You've been jumpy since hearing the guest list at dinner."
Because if Paul tells you anything, my body will spontaneously combust into flames.
"Dad and Nora aren't going to be happy," he teased.
That's it.
It's over.
Casey closed her eyes and took a steadying breath.
Might as well get it over with.
"I can explain..."
Derek straightened, the smirk wiped from his face. "I was kidding. You're actually back with him?"
With who?
"Haven't you learned your lesson? The guy is slime," he glowered.
Realization, and relief, washed over her.
"You're talking about Truman?" she asked incredulously.
Derek frowned, "Well, yeah. Aren't you two dating again?"
Casey cackled, "absolutely not!"
"Then why-"
She cut him off, "why do you care if I'm dating Truman again?"
Derek's mouth opened and closed as he searched for a response.
They were close enough she could smell blueberries from the stolen bagel on his breath.
It occurred to her then that anyone walking by would probably interpret their body language as "intimate". It also occurred to her that, assumingly, no one in the store would know they're step-siblings. The thought made her stomach flip in a way that wasn't entirely unpleasant.
Derek cleared his throat. "I'm just saying, one more incident and we're stuck road tripping with Dad and his toxic gas." He turned to grab a pack of paper plates off the shelf. "Need I remind you of the baked beans disaster of '98?"
Casey's lips curved into a smile. Between Derek, George, and Edwin, she must have heard the story fifty times. Nevertheless, she didn't stop him.
"I swear, your honor, it was the dog!" Derek recounted in his scarily-accurate George voice.
He acted out the entire story scene-by-scene and was still narrating by the time they reached the checkout counter.
"Little did the judge know-" Derek continued.
"We didn't even have a dog!" Casey finished.
The day passed without her noticing. Derek did the majority of the talking, but Casey didn't mind. She listened contentedly as he shifted from story to story. While taste testing cakes, Derek recounted Edwin's unfortunate experience with gas station sushi. Casey laughed so hard buttercream frosting went up her nose. By the time they reached the speaker rental store, the conversation had moved on to university. Derek was trying to convince Casey he registered for Women's Studies to learn about feminism- not pick up girls.
"I'm serious!" he demanded. "I watched a whole documentary about the Miss America Pageant protest of 1968."
Casey spun around, stunned. "Really?! Wow, Derek. I had no idea you would be interested in that sort of thing."
"Are you kidding?" He smiled handsomely, "A bunch of babes taking off their bras in public?"
"De-rek!" Casey objected.
Derek held up his arms defensively as she playfully punched his arms and stomach.
Trying to block her blows, the collar of Derek's sweater slipped off his shoulder.
And that's when she saw it: a small, purple bruise at the joining of his neck and shoulder. The bruise was about 5 centimeters in width. About the width of someone's lips.
THAT JERK.
Anger
Casey didn't say another word for the rest of the trip. Even when Derek suggested Gloria Steinem should have stuck to her Playboy bunny career, knowing it would annoy her.
It hasn't even been two months since he broke up with Emily, and he's already sucking face with some...
Harlet?
The jerk makes me so mad I can't even think of a better word!
This just proves that even if I had feelings for Derek (which I don't) and we got together (which we won't) it wouldn't mean anything!
Because Derek will always be Derek.
He tried to engage her again in the parking lot.
"It's going to take hours to put up all these decorations."
Casey silently opened the car door and slammed it shut behind her.
"I said it's going to take hours to decorate," he repeated, settling into his seat. "You and Emily better get started soon."
Casey whipped around to face him. "What about Emily?"
Derek smiled slightly. "I asked Emily to come over on Thursday to help you decorate."
"So, you and Emily are talking again?"
Emily gave him the hickey!
For some reason, that thought hurt ten times worse than the faceless townie she imagined a minute ago.
"I called her last night. I would help you myself, but I'll be otherwise occupied with the Top 100 Hockey Fights marathon."
Derek sat with a smug look on his face, obviously pleased with himself he'd finally baited a response from the girl.
"Of course, you did. Because that's what you do, right?" Casey seethed. "You just use people with no consideration for their thoughts or feelings."
Derek stared at her looking genuinely confused. "Whose thoughts and feelings?"
"Emily's!" At this point her whole body was flushed with anger.
"What is your damage?!" he demanded.
"My damage is you manipulating Emily into doing whatever you want!"
When he didn't answer, Casey wondered if he had heard her. That is until she noticed his clenched jaw and white knuckles gripping the steering wheel.
Suddenly, the tires screeched to a stop as Derek veered off the road.
Casey lurched forward, "Are you insane?!"
Derek flung the gearshift into park. "Emily offered to help when I called. She's putting up decorations, Casey, not donating an organ!"
"It's not about the decorations!"
"Then what is it about?" Derek questioned exasperatedly.
"The crater on your neck!"
Casey regretted saying it the moment the words left her mouth.
Derek kept his eyes fixed on her as he absent-mindedly rubbed the bruise. "That's why you're mad?" he asked. "Why do you care if I'm hooking up with someone?"
Yes, why do you care, Casey?
"I care because you're using my best friend!"
Casey knew it was a lie the moment the words left her mouth.
"You dumped Emily," she continued. "Messing around with her now is just going to lead her on. It's cruel. And for what? To kill time?"
Derek's head fell back. "Not that it's any of your business, but I'm not hooking up with Emily."
"You're not?"
"No."
"The hickey isn't from Emily?"
"No, Crappy, it's not," he spit.
A silent "oh" was all the MacDonald could muster.
"But don't pretend this is about protecting Emily. That's not what this is about."
Anger flared in her again. "Oh yeah? Well please, Derek, tell me what it's about."
"You're jealous."
Casey felt like someone dumped ice water down her back.
"What-t?" she sputtered.
"You're jealous that I'm getting action while you haven't gone on a single date since breaking up with Truman."
Casey held a hand over her chest and exhaled.
He shifted the car into drive again and checked over his shoulder for oncoming traffic. "So don't get mad at me because you haven't found someone."
Unfortunately, that's not entirely true.
A tense silence settled over the car.
Congratulations, you've somehow made this situation even more awkward than before.
Derek's eyes flicked over the passenger seat.
"Remember Bill Tremblay?"
Casey shifted to face him. "What?"
"Bill Tremblay, from the summer hockey league," repeated Derek.
She frowned. "The guy that's twice your size with half the teeth?"
"That's the one," he drawled. "Well, I may have said something during practice last week he didn't particularly like, and he may have taken a slapshot to my neck."
"Oh my God, Derek!" Casey yelped. She leaned closer, pulling down his collar for a better look. "Are you okay? You could have gotten seriously hurt!"
Derek batted her hand away. "Easy, Nurse Ratched! It's tender."
"Sorry," she mumbled, withdrawing her hands.
"So as much as I love watching you dangle," Derek said, "it's not a hickey. Just a bruise."
Casey cursed herself for the instant relief she felt.
"Did you tell George?" she asked.
"No. That would require me to explain what started the incident."
Casey's eyebrows knitted together. "What could you have possibly said about him to make him that angry?"
A sly smile spread across his face, "It wasn't so much what I said about him, but what I said about his mother."
"You didn't," she gasped.
"The guy has no sense of humor!"
"Derek..."
He peeked sideways at her. "Bill's mother is so ugly..."
Casey shook her head with disapproval, "How ugly is she?"
"She's so ugly her birth certificate was an apology letter."
Any other day, Casey would have been offended. She would have given him a lecture on sexism, or scolded him for his insensitivity, or simply shouted a classic "Der-ek!" But for some reason, this time, she busted out laughing.
"He could've killed you!" she giggled.
"Yeah, you seem very concerned."
Casey tried to catch her breath, but the air went up her nose instead, causing her to snort loudly. This was enough to crack Derek up.
Finally regaining her composure, Casey glanced at him. Derek's boisterous laugh was now just a low chuckle, but his wide grin hadn't faded. It was then she realized how seldom he smiled like that: not a smirk or sneer, but a genuine smile. The seldom times it did happen she couldn't help but notice how warm it made him look.
A folksy melody started playing over the radio.
Wait, I know this song.
"Is this from my-"
"Dance recital, junior year," Derek said matter-of-factly. "It took me forever to track it down. I finally found the MP3 on a site called 'dancingdivas'" he added with a grimace.
Casey stared at him dumbly. "You remembered the song from my recital, and-and downloaded it?"
Derek held up a hand in protest. "Only because you rehearsed it in the living room like a million times! Besides, I figured adding a few chick songs to the road trip playlist would be better than listening to you complain about my music taste for a week."
Casey continued staring.
"On second thought," Derek changed the song.
White Stripe's "Seven Nation Army" blared over the speakers.
He remembered my song, searched for it, and added it to a playlist made especially for us.
How... thoughtful.
By the time the Prince rolled to a stop, Derek had erupted into a full-blown air guitar solo.
"Don't wanna hear about it, every single one's got a story to tell," he belted.
Every note was off-key, but Casey couldn't help but smile.
He commits, I'll give him that.
They had arrived home, but neither of them rushed to exit the car.
"And that ain't what you want to hear, but that's what I'll do!"
Derek turned towards her and raised his fist to her chin.
"No way."
He nodded his head, urging her to play along.
Nothing.
Derek tapped the top of his fist. "Testing, testing."
Casey chuckled and begrudgingly leaned into the "mic". "And the feeling coming from my bones says 'Find a home'!" she sang.
Derek smiled triumphantly and continued his guitar solo.
At some point during the day, a familiar tickle had settled in her stomach. And it was only then, watching Derek joyfully bang his head to the beat, that Casey recognized the feeling.
Oh crap.
Acceptance
Chapter 7 coming next week!