It meant nothing.
It was supposed to mean nothing, anyway. It should have. Nothing but a passing fancy, a teenage romance. By that train of logic, the loving eyes, the casual flirtations, the on-again, off-again meant nothing, too.
So... why on Earth was he jealous?
Perhaps it was because the focus of his obsession, the girl he was desperately in love with, was wearing his best friend's jersey to a match of a sport she absolutely despised.
"Venturi!" He was brough back to his reality on a snap, taking his thoughts away from the whole situation and focused it on his present.
"Yeah, coach?"
"I said come on! Are you going to stand there all night?" He barked. "Unless you'd like another trip to the stalls."
Derek breathed out and went on to the ice. "Coming, coach."
"We're waiting for you, Diva." He spat.
Derek grimaced, sparing a final glance over his shoulder only to meet the pitying eyes of Emily Davis. Now, that was something that hit the embarrassment home even more than the emotions and thoughts he had been having for the past few months.
For Stalking Emily to pity him, he really must have reached new lows.
Fortunately, and thank God for small miracles, the object of his affections has not noticed a thing, focused on Sam warming up for the match.
He lifted his chin and flashed Emily a bold smirk before hurrying after his teammates on ice. He was nothing if not confident.
It started innocently enough.
After Casey's break up with Max, due to her supposed claim to find herself outside a romantic relationship, but that Derek claimed some credit for it, she was reasonably fine.
She was fine. Doing her Keener stuff, and being annoying and obsessive and herself in a way he did not remember how long it was since she was so much of a Casey.
Then, at Marti's birthday party, she decided she wanted to make amends with Max and for them to date again, but he was over her.
That hit her harder than it should, and she became quite depressed and sloven, unconcerned and unperturbed by life. It made Derek very concerned, not that he would admit it, but he was too caught up with Sally and Edwin was growing up and in need of too much guidance that he did not pay her as much attention as he probably should.
Especially, as it seemed, for the fact she had found solace elsewhere.
Emily was kind and patient, Derek liked her and Casey did too, but over the years, she lost her sensibility to Casey-drama. It was hard to take her seriously when an A- at school elicited the same histrionics as a break-up, and that high level of despair was almost constant thanks to his own interventions. So, she could not find sympathy there, either.
Now, since their own break-up, Sam did a lot of growing up and became surprisingly attuned with his own emotions and of others. He acquired quite a knack of realizing when Casey-drama was serious or was an overreaction, and Casey liked that. She felt like she could communicate better with him, which was surprising since that was the exact same reason why they broke up in the first place.
They got on talking, and relating, and soon they became remarkably close to one another.
Meanwhile, Derek was still hung up on being Sally's boyfriend, who was very demanding. That took up most of his time, and he had no spam left to notice his best friend drifting away, and towards none other than Casey.
Eventually, Sally decided to move to British Columbia and he decided to break it off with her, what made him absolutely miserable. Because he loved her, of course he did, but also, and perhaps mostly, because he felt like he had wasted effort on her. Because, in spite of everything he did to make her happy and love him, she just picked up and left like it was nothing.
That, the shame and nihilism of it all, made him spiral in denial, not the heart-break people assumed to be the cause, and that was what made him reach out for help.
Late at night, after everyone was asleep, he sneaked out to Casey's bedroom and woke her up. Initially, she was pissed and was about to tell him off, but then he started talking and she mellowed out and listened attentively.
When he was done, she talked to him, calm and warm, in a way he did not remember anyone doing it since his mom left, and even then, it was rare.
Derek felt like he was understood, like he was alive, complete. Like the fractures of his personality were, even slightly, bridged.
He slept on her bed that night, but left for his own room before dawn. In the morning, nothing changed, he still pranked and teased her, made her furious, and put on a confident act for their family. He even continued dating Sally, despite her being due to leave.
The nights, however, he spent at the foot of her bed, just telling her stuff. It was not much of a conversation, he reasoned with himself that if he did not let her talk about her life, it would be okay, no-one could accuse him of anything.
As the date scheduled for Sally's move to Vancouver approached, however, he gradually fell out of love with her, and fell in love with Casey, like the moron that he is.
Derek did not even notice anything amiss until, a few days after Sally had left, Sam came for dinner and Casey announced they got back together. He twisted the head of his fork when he heard that.
Eventually, he did notice the irony. Casey needed to be heard, needed to be comprehended, like he did, and just like him, she fell in love with the one person who provided it to her. If he was less prideful, less concerned about what Sally could think, perhaps it would have been his jersey she wore to the games.
Sitting at the sofa at the game's afterparty with a random girl next to him almost begging to be fucked, Derek felt like a miserable, confused, self-conscious heap of nothing.
Everyone was a few drinks in by now. Out on the dance floor Sam and Casey spun, a smile on her face. That is where his eyes remained as he took a sip from his glass.
There was a time when Derek had been the shining star of afterparties, commanding the attention and the actions of everyone around him like a fucking magician, but with his social performance slipping as of late, the other players started picking up the slack.
In fact, what he feared all along happened either way, people begun to hold him at arm's length. Not that he really cared anymore.
He was not even supposed to be here, he was not invited, but Sam insisted that he came, to distract himself from Sally, like that was the problem. He had come to the party with the sole purpose of avoiding questioning from his father on why he was not breaking curfew.
Though, a chance to hear the specific laugh currently carrying across the room was not that bad of a bonus.
The girl next to him giggled obnoxiously, breaking his daze on Casey's laughter, what always put him in a very foul mood.
Trying to save the rest of dignity he still possessed, he turned to her and said, "Why don't you bring us some beer?" The girl readily obliged.
He was not alone for much time, as a figure suddenly plopped down in the seat across from Derek. He wiped the tortured look from his face as best he could and threw on an award-winning smile.
"Hey, Em!"
Emily did not seem convinced. "That's quite the 180 you just did there."
Derek's gaze swept the room quickly to ensure nobody was looking at him before letting out a sigh and staring down at his shoes.
"I can't be that obvious." he lamented.
Emily responded with a sympathetic grin and a shrug of his shoulders. "You could say I am a bit of an expert about you." A pause, while Emily took the place next to him. "I hate seeing you like this."
"Like how?"
"Depressed." She stated, matter of fact. "Really depressed. Like when you mother left. Like when your grandfather died. Please, Derek, won't you just talk to me?"
"We are talking." Derek chirped smugly.
Emily was not one to joke with in this situation, though, she was determined to fight through his bullshit. So, instead, she leaned forward, her gentle eyes fixed on Derek's face.
"Humor me, Venturi. Penny for your thoughts." She said.
Derek's smirk faded but did not falter. How could he explain any of this when he was not sure how he felt himself?
Before he could manage a response, the girl from before arrived with the red cups and bawled with Emily occupying her spot.
"Ugh, go away!" She said, with a voice annoyingly nasal and a pitch that could shatter glass. "You're in my spot!"
Emily rolled her eyes. "Bethany, don't you have a friend of your father's to blow and extort for cash?"
The girl, whose name was apparently Bethany, gaped. "That's so not true!"
"Yeah, yeah, whatever." Emily dismissed. "Now go away, the grown ups are talking."
She turned to Derek, trying to find some support, but he was looking away, with as much interest in the situation as he had for her, that is to say, none. Then she left huffing, not before she placed the two beer cups in the table in front of them.
"Wild." He points out, taking a sip of one of the cups. Thank God for weekends, Derek thought as the alcohol hits his stomach and he instinctively starts to feel calmer.
Emily glared at him. "Real gentlemanly, Derek. Do you ever tire of making girls as your maids?"
"Do you see Edwin around? I wouldn't have to if he was here to fetch me things." He retorted like it was the most natural thing in the world.
Emily seemed ready to retort, but she preferred to pick her battles. "You have to know depression drinking isn't safe. How many of those did you have so far?"
Derek chugged the rest of beer on his cup down his throat, potentially out of spite, and pointed a finger over the rim of the plastic utensil at Emily.
"I'm barely drunk." He points out. "You, on the other hand, seems oddly ballsy."
"I'm not—" Derek managed to cut her off with a sly raise of his eyebrow. Emily pursed her lips before nodding once. "I might have had some liquid courage to come and talk to you. Big deal."
Derek laughed, perhaps the first genuine one in days. "My point exactly."
"The thing is, Der..." Emily takes a sip of her own cup, before shuddering. She really did not like the taste of alcohol. "I know you have been drinking more than usual, and that you might not be drunk, but that's more due to acquired resistance than quantity. I also know you have been in thin ice with your dad, and this whole schtick is not going to go well with him."
"And you know all this how?" He pointedly asks, feeling rather uncomfortable.
"I am your neighbour and you Venturis are hardly ever discreet." She responded, assertive. "So, are you going to tell me what the problem is, or will I have to go with my observations?"
Derek could feel the buzz of the alcohol starting to set in. With a heavy exhale, he rubbed a hand on his face and said, "It's just been a long week."
"Yeah, right. Listen to me." Derek looked up at him with a pout that morphed slowly into shock when Emily kept talking. "I like to think we're friends, Derek. At least we're close enough that I notice the way you look at…"
"Shh!" Derek's eyes darted nervously across the room to where Casey and Sam were currently sitting. When he turned back to Emily, she was fixing him with the same face she had earlier in the day. "Don't look at me like that..."
"It's hard not to." Emily frowned. "It's like seeing a kicked puppy."
"Well... that feels right." Derek said quietly.
It was pretty obvious that Emily was already very aware of what was bothering him so there was really no point in deflecting any longer. Derek's shoulders slumped as he folded his arms against his thighs to hide his face.
Emily placed a comforting hand on his back. "Look. Love like that, it doesn't come around that often." Emily gave Derek a lopsided smile. "Don't waste your chance."
The words bounced through Derek's head. He did not know for how long he had been silent, as he had to blink himself out of a trance when he felt Emily brush a knuckle beneath his chin, forcing him to look up. "Um... Em?"
"Head up." There was a glimmer in Emily's eyes as his hand fell to Derek's shoulder, giving it a reassuring squeeze. "Go get 'em, tiger."
"It's not that easy, you know?" He mumbled, pathetically.
"Since when do you like it easy, Derek?" She said, trying to be supportive. "You love being challenged. Isn't that exactly the reason that you ended up where you are?"
He did not respond, and she took it as an acquiescence, but he did like it easy, really. He knew his limitations, and he knew that he was not good in declaring his intentions, in making himself clear about his emotions, and at times he liked it that way.
However, Kendra had taught him that he could not get what he wanted out of people if he did not make himself be understood, and while it was easy enough to order Edwin to make him a sandwich, it was harder when it came to getting love, or, in that case, getting out of it.
In turn, what Sally taught him is that there was a correlation between understanding and difficulty in a relationship. She did not understand him at all and made no effort towards it, and that sucked out all the fighting he had inside him. He got into that one for the challenge, and what did it amounted at the end?
What these past few weeks goes to show is that Casey is a caring individual, and just as starved of comprehension as he is. She will make the effort if he is willing to do so as well, and she turns out to be surprisingly good at it. Contrarily, Sam and Emily, and even his dad on occasion, do the effort all by themselves, but always reach the wrong conclusions.
He followed Emily's eyes across the bar. The person he'd found himself so enamored with was already staring right back, face rested delicately on the back of one hand, sending him a concerned look, one that pleaded to be talked to.
Derek felt a swell in his chest, pushing himself up to his feet. He walked away as fast as he possibly could without making a scene.
He returned home on foot, as he hitched a ride to the party, and in the time he spent walking, he did not think about much. He just felt like he could cry.
It was supposed to mean nothing. It should have. Nothing but a passing fancy, a teenage romance.
He just was not sure if he was talking about himself or Sam.
