I'm surprised so many people liked this... Anyways, we're still in L.A. And it's not Christmas yet... But next chapter, trust me, it will be... ;) Next chapter it really gets started. And we get to see if the clueless author has any idea of what she's doing... So I'm gonna post this, go to bed, wake up, do S.S. Notes and homework all day, and then, late at night, get on and read your reviews. And they will make me smile and forget about the paper due on Tuesday and finals in a week and the two math assignments I haven't done and the research for the paper I haven't done and the test on Monday and the test on Tuesday and the four chapters of Social Studies notes I must take. Sigh. A lot to forget about, eh?
"Yeah, yeah, whatever..." I mumbled distractedly, scrambling out of the bed so fast my head spun. I managed to regain my balance a minute later, feeling Derek's eyes burning a hole through my back. Feeling ashamed, I hurried to collect my clothes, haphazardly fastening my bra, pulling my underwear on. I zipped up my skirt and tugged on my shirt. Where was that damn jacket of mine?
Derek yawned loudly, stepping out of bed and approaching me from behind. Great, just what I need. He wasn't wearing a stitch of clothing, so I forced myself to avert my eyes and look away. Little flashes of the night before were coming to me... Ouch. My head throbbed.
"What, no 'you were amazing, Derek'? Not even a good morning? ...It's no wonder you don't have a boyfriend," Derek taunted, disbelieving. I turned around and glared at him fiercely.
"You can't keep a girlfriend longer than a week," I retorted, annoyed, ransacking the place, looking for my jacket.
Derek snorted derisively. "What are you looking for, Casey? Your shoes are by the door," Derek pointed out coolly. I glared at him in the way I was accustomed to. By this time, he had pulled on his boxers (fortunately for me).
"I'm looking for my jacket," I hissed irritably. Then I saw it, there, on the middle of the floor. Unfortunately, Derek saw it too. He scowled.
"Hey, that's my old jacket!" Derek exclaimed, immediately going for it. However, I went for it at the same time and we had both grabbed an arm of the jacket and were playing Tug o' War over it. Eventually, we wound up wrestling... And next thing I knew, Derek was on top of me, straddling me and pinning me to the floor.
Realizing his position, he smirked amusedly, leaning in a bit closer to me. "Well, I didn't think we'd be doing this again so soon..." He drawled, licking his lips. He looked really hot. I can't believe I just thought that!
This is Derek, my stepbrother, we're talking about here! DEREK!
Who you slept with last night.
Come on, admit it, Casey... You've always been a little attracted to him. Before you knew he was your stepbrother, remember, you started flirting with him... Then Mom came in and informed me of who he was and I didn't want anything to do with him, remember?
But he's not my type.
Funny, he seemed to be your type last night.
I grunted and flailed under him, trying to get up. Or I should say get me up, not him... Okay, Casey, not the kind of thoughts we need to be thinking. Then you'll go down the same route again.
"Yeah, well... We're not," I grunted, struggling in vain. Derek rolled his eyes, muttering to himself.
"That's not what you said last night," He mumbled, getting off me, jacket in hand. I stood up, dusting myself off, sending him a vicious glare.
"I was too drunk to think last night," I snarled frustratedly. Even after all these years... He still manages to get to me like no one else. Stupid Derek.
I snatched the jacket from him, hurrying to put on my boots. Derek scowled at me, pulling on his pants, looping the belt through his belt loops. "That's my jacket, you know," Derek complained loudly... As if I cared!
Actually, that was the weird thing. It was his jacket. The one I'd worn to the party was in the room with my purse. The two jackets did look virtually the same, but I was hungover and confused and... Not thinking very clearly.
Especially as I kept getting flashes of last night.
Not exactly the most conducive visions to have, let me tell you. I was a bit distracted.
I struggled to zip up my boots, and Derek suddenly came over to me. I blinked, looking up at him (I was sort of sitting on the floor) confusedly. Derek smiled at me oddly, before leaning down and pulling me into a rough, passionate kiss. I'm ashamed to say that my eyes closed.
And more than a little bit embarrassed. It was too short. Uh, no, wait, it, um... I must really be hungover.
I immediately scrambled to my feet, almost bolting out of the room. Derek smirked, waving at me cockily. "Bye, Casey!"
It could have been worse. He could've said "See you at Christmas", for instance. Haha. If I had only known, right?
I walked through the party, which was surprisingly, still going on, though to a much lesser extent. It was crowded enough that I managed to sneak out remotely easily. Except, of course, for the slightly disturbing fact that I felt like everyone was staring at me during my Walk of Shame.
I didn't even do this sort of thing in college!
To make matters even worse, I was late for work. I sighed, running outside, looking for my car. There were lots of them there, but I found mine and started the long drive back home. I say long because it was still rush hour by the time I wound up on the freeway heading into the city. I wound up stuck in traffic for the better part of an hour, which gave me a lot of time to think about things... like Derek.
Derek doesn't have to be on time. Derek's a director. He's flexible. For all I know, he's not even working on anything right now. I am beyond late for work, and I was headed home, so I was bound to be even more late!
After what seemed like ages, I finally arrived at my apartment. I glanced nervously at my watch as I hurried in. I had accidentally forgotten my purse at the party, but fortunately for me, my keys were in my pocket along with my car keys. Other things, such as my drivers' license (a universal one, for both the U.S. and Canada) and my favorite lipstick were, unfortunately, in my purse.
I showered, put on new, work-appropriate clothes, did my make-up and my hair, and then popped a few aspirin before heading off to work. I did, after all, have a most horrendous hangover.
Jane and Jordan were waiting for me at work. I'm a wedding planner. Yeah, that stuff with Aunt Fiona's wedding sort of stuck... Or something. Now I feel like a cliché from a J.Lo movie, which is rather irritating, to tell the truth, but I make a bundle, so I don't care as much. Jordan, an annoyingly bubbly blonde who happened to be in charge of (surprise, surprise) party details, frowned at me. Jane, a tall, model-type with long brown hair, glanced at me curiously.
"I didn't see you at the party last night... Didn't you go?" Jordan pouted, looking somewhat hurt. No, you dumbass, I went. I nodded curtly, but my head reeled, and Jane cracked a smile.
"Yeah, she did, Jor... And she's got the hangover to pay for it," She mumbled amusedly. I nodded carefully, making sure not to jostle my aching head. Jordan frowned sympathetically, patting me on the shoulder. The feeling of being hungover was more than a little familiar to her.
"Oh, so what were you wearing?" She asked interestedly. As it was her specialty, Jane perked up a little, suddenly riveted to attention. I shrugged and told her. Immediately, this really weird, curious look came over her face.
Suddenly, something surprising seemed to come to her. She squealed, clapping her hand to her mouth excitedly. What's she going nuts about? Did she see me at the party and... I don't even... I'm confused. I raised an eyebrow, puzzled, shooting a look over to Jane. But Jane didn't get it either and merely shrugged, bewildered.
"I saw you," Jordan blurted, removing her hand. Her big blue eyes were wide and bright with cheer. It's too early in the morning for this. Too early. I nodded wearily, not caring. "You were being carried off by Derek Venturi into Chris' guestroom."
She said this in such a calm, steady voice. It unnerved me. I, however, had just started to sip my coffee when she said this, and wound up spitting it all over everything. Hot shock. My cheeks flushed with embarrassment, but Jordan looked pleased for me. Jane's jaw dropped as she looked me over.
"You got laid," She gaped, stunned. Please, Jane, just for my self-esteem... Could you appear a bit less floored? Yeah. At that precise moment, a very vivid flash of the night before came to me. Very, very vivid. It was kind of like one of Derek's camera shots, you know? It reminded me of an out-of-body experience (not that I've ever had one of those) because I could see myself down there with him.
I nodded, feeling myself flush even further. "Yeah..."
Jordan frowned petulantly. "You're so lucky, Casey. I've always wanted to do him... I was at that party too... And he picked you!" Jordan whined in an annoyingly high voice. I winced. Yes, Jordan, maybe that voice is why Derek won't do you. He's sort of picky. That's why he dumps them after a week or two. He gets sick of them.
Which is why I'm not going to make a big deal out of this. Even though it is a big deal. I just slept with him, something I'm sure hundreds of girls can say. I was drunk and stupid. Enough said. Now, Casey, let's put the thought far from his mind and cross our fingers that we won't have to see him at a family gathering any time soon.
I rolled my eyes. "I'm not lucky, trust me. I was just drunk and in the wrong place at the wrong time," I grumbled, sinking into one of the chairs. Jane raised an eyebrow, leaning in closer.
"So he wasn't good?" She whispered curiously, sounding shocked.
I rolled my eyes at her, sipping my coffee. "No. It's not that. He was great. I just should not have slept with him. I am supposed to know better," I answered, groaning. I pinched the bridge of my nose, frustrated. I should have known better. "I mean, I grew up with the guy. I know he's an ass... and still..." I sighed irritatedly.
Jordan blinked, confused. She wasn't exactly the brightest crayon in the box, so it wasn't exactly a new feeling, but still... "Whoa, wait... You grew up with Derek Venturi, sex god extraordinaire, and you didn't tell us?" Jordan asked breathlessly, sounding winded. Yes. I grew up with the idiot. Can you really call three years growing up with him, though?
I shrugged, taking a sip of my coffee. It went well with the aspirin. "I did live with him for three years," I mumbled, feeling embarrassed. I did not want to have to explain why we were living together. It was kind of squicky to just think of it.
Jane tilted her head a little, raising her eyebrows. If it was possible, Jordan looked even more floored. But after a moment, she got excited. "Ooh, so what was it like?" Jordan gushed. Damn her bubbly ways. It was just too early in the morning...
Jane and I rolled our eyes in stereo. I shrugged once again. "He was a teenager. What do you expect?" I responded, pausing briefly and taking another sip of my coffee. This time I burned my tongue. Ouch. I took a deep breath and continued. "He was... very messy. Completely disorganized. Not to mention totally barbaric... No manners or privacy! And so damn stubborn! Honestly, I have never met a more stubborn person in my life! Oh, and let's not forget a total control freak!"
That might have come out a bit angrier than I intended. Oops. The smile fell off Jordan's face, and Jane looked taken aback. "A lot of rage you've got there, eh, Casey?" Jane joked, chuckling a little. Jordan was still surprised at my venom. I guess she's not used to seeing me mad.
I sighed raggedly. "Well, he was the bane of my existence for the worse part of three years," I mumbled, banging my head on the table.
Neither Jordan or Jane knew quite what to say about this. They merely exchanged looks over my head while I sighed. Damn you, Derek.
Of course, then... I really had no idea.
Damn you, Derek. Damn you.
Loren ;
Anyways, enjoy, feel free to leave a looong post... Fun stuff. See ya!