I'm on my fifth course of the evening and fucking stuffed.
How is everyone so thin!?
If I had to eat like this every single night of my life because society told me I had to, I'd be an elephant. And let me tell you, I can eat. I'm always hungry. But this is ridiculous. By the time they served up the roast duckling, I leaned over and asked the guy next to me how much more food they are going to force us to chow down on?
I think his last name is Astor or something. He looks like he has a stick up his butt and his mustache is so bushy that it reminds me of that one I Love Lucy episode where Lucy is dressed as a man to spy on Ricky's stag party. I want to reach over and rip it off because I'm convinced it's a fake.
I wrinkled my eyebrows together when I tried to get a closer look at it. I'm pretty sure he noticed because now he's ignoring the hell out of me.
But whatever. Let's get back to the food.
He said there are nine courses in total. Nine! There's no way I can eat all that.
Maybe I can pocket some for later?
Granted, I dove in the second the waiter brought out the first course. I have a billion pieces of silverware, and I know that each one holds a certain purpose, but I don't have time to be all polite and shit.
A forks a fork.
I haven't eaten a bite since this morning when Dennis took us out for waffles before heading over to New York Harbor.
Oh yea, and that bag of beef jerky I had. You should have seen Casey's face! Man, she's hilarious and sexy when she's angry.
Anyway, nearly drowning and then waking up on a massive ship that is going to sink to the bottom of the Atlantic Ocean, takes it out of a person. I was half starved to death.
Granted, everyone around me is mostly laughing and drinking, taking small bites here and there. It wasn't until I cleared the lamb from my plate a few minutes ago that I realized you aren't actually supposed to clear your plate.
There were starving people in third class and these assholes were taking two bites out of their expensive ass meals.
And when I say meals…I mean meals.
We're talking about enough food to last a person days.
The best thing about this entire dinner though is the wine. I'm more of a beer man myself, but these snobs don't care that Casey and I are underaged. She has barely touched hers, but I've downed six glasses.
I hold my hand up, signaling for the waiter to refill my glass once again.
I'm not going to lie. I'm a bit on the tipsy side.
At this point, I'll take any alcohol I can get. I've been more stressed out today than I've ever been in my entire life…though I would never show it.
I'm well aware of where I stand on this ship.
Maybe in 2007, I would still be considered a kid and could hop a ride on one of those boats tied outside. But here…that wasn't going to happen.
Despite the hoity toity behavior, these were 'real men.' Like the kind that go down with the ship after saving their women folk.
Everyone will fully intend for me save my girl and then 'retire' for the evening, stick a cigar in my mouth, and 'man up.' Which, it's not like I haven't already sacrificed myself today. What's one more time?
But in all honesty, it royally sucked.
I now know that drowning is one of the worst ways to go. You're underneath the water, wanting nothing more than to fill your lungs with air. But you can't have it. You're waiting for the end to come, but it feels like an eternity. You long for death.
But I know I'd do it all over again for Casey in a heartbeat…and I might just have to.
However, what if I don't drown this time? What if I die of hypothermia? That doesn't sound much like fun either.
"Tell me Miss Casey, how are you enjoying your time aboard the Titanic?" Thomas Andrews asks. He's a man in his late thirties and the one who built the Titanic. He's staring at Casey like she's the best thing ever, just like every other man at our table is. It's not like I can blame them. Her hair is hanging loose around her shoulders, framing her face to perfection. She looks like an angel and the only thing she is missing is a pair of wings. She hasn't faltered her breathtaking smile the entire evening.
God, she's good.
She is manipulating the shit out of everyone, and while I hate when she tries that with me, I'm glad for the performance she's putting on this evening. They think she's a dainty little princess and not the feisty crazy girl I know her to be.
"You have built a lovely ship, Mr. Andrews. Derek and I were just discussing how much we've enjoyed exploring it this afternoon. Haven't we?" she turns to me, batting her long eyelashes. I sip my wine in response. I know I look absolutely bored to tears, and I am.
I'm really missing Declan right about now. He and Bessie are nosy as hell, but at least they are more entertaining than watching paint dry, which is more than I can say about these people. Declan and Bessie are second class, and their room is pretty cozy. But they aren't allowed to have dinner with these guys unless specifically asked.
Snobs.
The Captain chose to dine with the richest of the rich tonight, convinced they could answer any burning questions Casey and I may have. Captain Smith is a quiet man and it's hard to have a conversation with him. Usually, I appreciate the strong silent type, but right now is not the time for that. I don't want to talk to these guys who throw their millions around.
What I flippin' want is for the Captain to slow his roll and back off the accelerator.
Sounds easy right? Well, apparently, everyone has a need for speed and it's turning out to be much harder than it should be to get the ship slowed down a few notches.
Casey kicks me under the table when I fail to answer, and I spit some of my drink back into the glass.
"Lovely ship," I repeat Casey's words, sitting up straight. "The company kinda sucks though" I mutter.
Casey kicks me again.
"Mmmmm," I groan out, reaching down to rub my leg.
"You'll have to excuse my stepbrother. He's very rude at times and often needs a good whacking." Everyone laughs at Casey's poor excuse of a joke.
I laugh mockingly, but keep my mouth shut.
The men go about their private discussion, mostly talking about their wads of money. I pull Casey towards me by her arm and speak through gritted teeth.
"Stop trying to charm them at my expense and get to the point."
"I'm working up to it," she says. Surprisingly, she isn't talking in an angry tone. Her voice is hesitant, like the time she told me she climbed down a tree because she wanted the 'full experience' when sneaking out, despite no one being home.
She's so fucking adorable.
I let go of her arm and sit up straight. My attraction to Casey is becoming so out of control that I can't even hold it together when faced with certain death. If I'm not careful, I'll end up making love to her while the ship is sinking.
Of course, that may end up being the perfect time because I can't imagine never being with her in that way. The opportunity almost slipped through my fingers completely this morning, and I've been given a second chance.
The only problem is…I've been around the block a few times and Casey most definitely hasn't. She's still sixteen, and while I lost my V-card my freshman year of high school, Casey strikes me as the type that wants to wait until college or even marriage. I get it. I'm a patient man. But how much patients can one have when staring death right in the face?
I silently gaze at her, letting my eyes travel up and down her slender body. I'm appreciating how gorgeous she is. Her tits look incredible in the dress she is wearing, and it's funny how a t-shirt and shorts freak these people out, but women can have their boobs spilling all over the place.
Not that I'm complaining!
I lean back, looking at the ties on her dress. I'm in the middle of thinking how hard it's going to be to unlace all those stupid ties when I hear words that I feared would be spoken. Even Casey can't charm a man out of doing what he's determined to accomplish.
"I assure you Miss Casey," Andrews says. "The ship is one-hundred percent safe. I made sure to include several watertight compartments when designing the Titanic should anything happen. There is no need to slow our speed. You are in good hands."
"I'm the King of the woooorrrrrrld!"
After dinner tonight, and our failed attempt at getting the ship to slow down, Derek and I decided not to go right back to Declan and Bessie's room. Instead, we went up on deck to discuss our next course of action.
But Derek had a total of eight glasses of wine tonight and he's drunk off his ass.
He's currently standing at the front of the ship. And yes, you guessed it. He's totally pulling a Leonardo DiCaprio right now.
I'm tugging on his dinner jacket, trying my best to get him to come down from the railing, and failing miserably. So instead of pulling on him, I continue to hold onto his clothes so that I can at least make sure he doesn't fall overboard.
He gives a sigh of contentment, his arms stretched out wide.
"You should see the view from up here, Case."
"I think I'll pass," I say quietly. I want to yell at him right now, but what's the point? For once, he's being relatively nice to me, even if he is acting like a total idiot.
Derek bends down, grabbing ahold of the railing before jumping to the ground and staggering backwards. My momentary relief is interrupted as I let go of him and he falls on his butt.
I put my hands on my cheeks, watching in embarrassment as Derek attempts to stand, but once again lands backwards, lying flat. He bursts out laughing and I can't tell you how happy I am that it's late and no one is around to witness this moment.
Derek does look like a little child whose eyes are big with amazement as he stares up at the star fill sky, his laughter slowly dying down. It's hard to be mad at him right now. He's really trying.
He's trying to save the Titanic.
He's trying to save over 2,000 people.
He's even trying with…me.
Sure, we're still bickering. But even when we're old and grey, and somehow end up in the same nursing home because I'm convinced I'll never be rid of Derek Venturi no matter what, we will be bickering over who gets the last cup of jello.
I turn away from him and look out straight into the night.
It is eerie seeing the sight for myself. I imagine that the night we hit the ice burg; it will look similar to what it does now. It's calm and clear, the water smooth as glass. I can't see clearly into the night. It's one black void that is never ending.
"Casey?" Derek asks.
I break from my troubling thoughts and watch him as he struggles to stand once again. He manages to get to his feet this time without falling over. The wind is blowing through his hair, making it stick up in all directions, and I have a sudden urge to run my fingers through it.
Not that I would ever do such a thing.
I wrap my arms around my body, shivering.
Derek's gaze falters as he stares at me intensely, and for a moment, he looks completely sober. He shrugs out of his jacket, and to my surprise and amazement, wraps it around my shoulders. I don't fight it since I'm freezing.
"Thanks," I say, keeping my eyes pinned to the ground.
"Don't mention it."
Both of us remain silent and at a loss for words. This entire day has been like one long nightmare and we're absolutely exhausted.
For a moment, I miss my Mom. I wish that she was here, just so that I can hug her. It's crazy to think that the only person I have to lean on is Derek. Derek isn't the type to comfort someone, but he has surprised me more today than he has ever come close to amazing me in the past.
And right now, he's all I have.
He may be all I have from this moment forward. At least for the next few days.
"Derek?"
"Mmmm?" he looks up at me.
"Can I have a hug?" I surprise myself by asking.
I know that he hugged me this afternoon when he saw that I wasn't dead. It was a moment of weakness, filled with relief. I get it. But this was different. I want him to take me in his arms and tell me everything is going to be okay.
Derek raises an eyebrow in surprise, stepping backwards with one foot at my request. For a moment, I think that he's pulling away from me like I fully expected him to do. But he looks down at my body, his arms twitching lightly.
And then it occurs to me. He's trying to figure out how to hug me. I smile to myself at the inner struggle he is having. Whenever I've tried to hug him in the past, he has run like hell.
Or he would shudder from the thought…or hold his arms up in defense before shaking my hand.
I remain perfectly still, clutching his jacket tight around my shoulders. I wait.
Derek steps forward in that moment…and then it happens.
He brings his arms around my body, drawing me to him. I'm still wrapped up tight, and for the first time today, I feel safe. I lay my head on his chest as I feel his hands stroke up and down my back in comfort, a soft sigh escaping my lips.
Who would have thought Derek was such a great hugger?
Not me, that's for sure.
I didn't realize my eyes had closed until I reopen them and stare out into the night once more. If I could stay like this forever, I would. But I know that's not possible. Our world was about to be turned upside down, much more than it already has been.
I'm beginning to fear for myself.
But most of all, I fear for Derek.
I know that no matter what happens, whether we can stop the collision or not, I will never leave Derek's side.
Just like he never left mine.