Sorry, but I don't know when Derek's birthday is, so I thought it would be cool if it was in July. I've never been to a therapy session, though, so I don't know what I'm talking about here, (or in the next chapter.)

Luv,

Summer K.

Derek walked in the door, still in the clouds. He had almost missed his stop, had fallen getting off the bus, and had slammed into the door on the way out the hospital. His thoughts were on Casey. Her face had turned tomato red when he kissed her on her forehead, but it was so cute, he almost wanted to kiss her on her lips. He could feel her soft lips brushing against his, as he- God; I have to stop thinking like that. She probably still dislikes me. She's my stepsister, for crying out loud!

"Hey, Derek. Wanna watch some TV with us?" Edwin turned and asked him.

"A little later, Ed." Derek said, heading into the kitchen.

"Hey." Derek said, once again raiding the fridge.

"Hey." George said. "What did Casey say?"

"Well," Derek started, closing the refrigerator. "She seems to be taking the news well, and she plans on staying home once she gets back." he took a longdrink of some Gatorade.

Nora looked at George, "Derek, that's your sister's. If you want to keep the peace, put it down."

Derek quickly put it down, and covered the bottle. "Oh, yeah. I'm so used to doing that now." he gave them a goofy smile, and put the bottle away. "Do you think I can celebrate my birthday with Casey tomorrow at the hospital?"

George looked surprised. "Um, sure, if you want. Anyone else?"

"Just Emily and Sam." he replied.

"Don't make a mess in the hospital." Nora warned.

Derek sighed dramatically. "One party that went out of control and you think I am the devil of all parties."

"No, Derek. We don't want the devil of parties to come. Who knows what might happen that time..." George trailed off.

"Whatever, dad. I'm in my room."

Derek was reading the comics when his cell phone went off. "Not Emily again." he complained out loud.

"Hi Emily."

"Hey Derek. I need to ask Casey something. Can you pass the phone to her, please?"

"Sorry, I'm not there with her, but I'll tell her to call you."

"Oh. Well..." she trailed off, for once at a loss for words. "Since you're his best friend and everything, can you tell me about Sam?"

"What? What about him?"

"Never mind, nothing. Tell Casey I called. Bye." she hung up quickly.

"What was that about." he mumbled to himself. "Wait!" he slapped himself on his forehead. "I need to invite Emily!" He called her back.

"Hey Derek. Um, what's up?"

"Nothing. Um, my birthday is tomorrow. I want to celebrate it with Casey, you and Sam. You think you can come?"

"Sure. I'll even bring the cake. It will save me from agonizing over what to get you." she said.

"Thanks, Emily." he hung up.

It went the same with Sam, except he would bring the drinks as Derek's "present". "Some birthday this'll be." he mentioned to himself.

After Derek left, a therapist came in with a wheelchair. He looked in his late 20s, straight from California. All he needed was a 'what's up, dudette' and she would scream. But instead, he sounded much more descent.

"Good afternoon, Ms. Venturi-" he started with a broad smile with sparkling-white teeth.

"It's McDonald. Hi." she said, cutting him off.

"Ok, Ms. McDonald. I'm your therapist, Troy Prince. (A/N: Thanks to DFMS classmate for the name.) But you can call me Troy. The doc said that you have a good chance of walking, and I'm here to help that chance. So, I'll take you to the physical therapy wing, ok?"

"Ok." Casey said. Troy picked her up with ease, and placed her in the wheelchair gently.

"So," he said wheeling her out the room. "What brought you here?"

"Stray bullet." Casey answered quickly, not wanting to explain the last couple of days.

"Really? From where?" he asked.

"I was in a park, and a bullet hit me while I was on the phone with my stepbrother. He heard the shot, and came over to help."

"Ok, so what were you doing in the park, by yourself, that early in the morning?" he pried.

"You're being awfully nosey, Troy." Casey commented loud enough for him to hear.

"I know." he said.

Casey sighed deeply, and continued. "Well, if you must. I ran away from home. On Sunday night, it rained, and I got pretty muddy. I called my stepbrother to ask if he could cover for me while I came in and took a bath."

Troy chuckled.

She ignored him. "Right after that, a bullet hit me in my stomach. Thank God I was close to home. I might've still been there."

"So, that's why you're here." he said thoughtfully. "Some of these kids have worse stories, and they'll have to get fake legs." he commented as they reached the therapy wing. He opened the doors to a white room with tons of different machines,for all different types of physical therapy. She looked on in amazement. "You'll only be dealing with people in similar situations, though. Here's your group." he wheeled her over to a circle of about five people, all in wheelchairs, mostly boys.

"Hi." she said nervously. A black boy with braids caught her attention. He had fake legs from his knee down. They were shiny and silver. He caught her looking at him, and before she had a chance to look away, he smiled at her. She smiled back quickly, and turned her head. There was only one girl besides herself there. She sat motionless, and had bruises all over her face, and a deep cut running down her left cheek. She had a hint of sadness in her heavily eye-lined eyes.

"What's your story?" the boy next to her asked.

I don't have much of an author's note for this cliffhanger. I thought the chapter was endless, so you'll have to wait for the next installment. (sorry!)