They tiptoed around each other. After the initial week of testing the waters and learning boundaries, they were at each other's throats and had been ever since. Of course the family was aware of the rivalry - it was impossible to ignore - but they didn't see all of it. They didn't see that for Casey, it was an...investigation of sorts. She knew that Derek was not all that he appeared to be; he was much more complex and intelligent than anyone gave him credit for. There was something hidden in him that she felt compelled to discover, and though his haughty and immature pretenses kept her at bay, she would never give up on him. She was a learner, after all: she wanted to learn him.
They didn't see that, for Derek, it was more than a game of irritation. It was inexplicable, the way her simultaneous studiousness and rebellion fascinated him. The girl was a contradiction of herself and he couldn't keep from marveling at the details of her paradox, infuriating infatuation. He poked and he prodded to discover more, to get close to her. How he loved to be close to her. He had never even been aware of it, but he found himself touching her at every chance, like magnetism, a natural law that he obeyed without question.
Their family saw the surface tension, but they were oblivious to the true motives. So too, of course, were Casey and Derek. Doomed from the start, they held onto their childish games for as long as they could. And as they got older, they knew that the innocence of it was gone, that they'd crossed too many boundaries to go back to a state of normalcy. Over the years, they had come to know each other better than anyone else would ever be able, irreversibly. But here's what it was like in the beginning, when all they knew was that each couldn't manage to keep away from the other:
"Case, since it's summer and your brain has atrophied without any coursework to keep you occupied, I'll forgive this one infraction, but you're gonna have to get out of here."
"What are you talking about?"
"The porch. Notice that the only way of passage is through my room? S'cause it's part of my room. My domain. No Space Cases out here, and that's for your own good. Wouldn't want Klutzilla slipping on her own tanning lotion and pitching herself over the railing." Or would he? No, she'd definitely find a way to blame him.
"Put away the classic territoriality. I already took it up with George. He says the porch is public domain. Venturi's and McDonald's welcome...though I'd prefer private use, if you don't mind."
"Oh sure, the girl that comes traipsing through my room demands privacy! How rich." He snapped the strap of her tank top as she glared up at him, straining desperately in an effort to be imposing. He grinned. Her defiance was half the reason he challenged her. The other half was the pure satisfaction of beholding The Pout. There are many variations: irritated and disgusted pout, sad and dramatic pout, and, his personal favorite, blushing angry pout.
"Derek, I must say I'm impressed! Traipsing. I see Mrs. Kern's efforts in inspiring you to expand your vocabulary weren't entirely wasted, after all. Kudos. Now, from one intellectual to another, please step aside. I just want a peaceful spot to read."
"Here's a free lesson, Case: don't condescend when you attempt flattery. You're terrible enough at lying as it is. Why don't you just go to the library? You practically live there anyway."
"Library hours are shortened in the summer months. You'd know that if you had ever actually set foot in one."
"Sounds about as likely as me letting you trespass. This is sacred ground...sacred, keener-free ground."
"File your complaints with George, then, Derek. That porch swing looks particularly inviting, thank you."
He reached for her arm as she walked by him, but put his hand in his pocket instead. Touching Casey was dangerous if there were no witnesses present. He tended to get carried away if they were alone.
But hell, he couldn't help himself. Derek lunged for her shoulders, whipping her around and pinning her against the wall. Her gasp of shock filled his head. Sometimes she was dizzying, but this was a mere side-effect. It was exhilarating to look into her eyes. In moments like these, they always confessed what she would never speak aloud. That she was at his mercy. That he was in control. That she liked the feeling of giving in, no matter how much she didn't want to. Those eyes, such a clear and piercing blue, were falsely defiant, patiently coaxing him to make another move. Did she even know what she was doing to him?
He didn't stay to find out, grabbing the book from her and laughing as he ran downstairs. She took chase, of course, as she always did.
"De-rek, you immature little - ugh!" She yelled behind him, flying down the stairs and crashing into his chair before sputtering and regaining her balance, taking off once more, "What's your goal here, seriously?"
He didn't know. There was no goal. He was simply abiding by the laws of nature, not really knowing what came next or why.
And those really were the best of times. A hot summer, long days, endless excuses to touch and torment her while his behavior was still permissible by the phrase, "boys will be boys."
"That's ridiculous," he remembered her saying, "you boys should strive to be more mature, like me and Lizzie."
"Go easy on them Casey, they're still learning what it's like to live with girls in the house," Nora graciously provided, still filling up water balloons for the 'family fun day' she and George were hosting in the backyard. Derek grinned, regarding his munitions. Casey would have something else to complain about soon enough.
"Yeah, cut us some slack, Case. You expect things not to get a little muddy when a slip n slide is involved?"
"Derek, you intentionally and directly smeared mud on my face!"
"Well? It's fun to get a little dirty," He smirked. Derek hadn't intended it, but his gaze fell on Casey as he spoke. Her hair was wet from washing, curling and sticking to the red straps of her bikini top. That was his fault; she'd had to rinse out the mud clumps. The colors there held his gaze, the teasing bows tied over each shoulder. Everything about her taunted him without relent.
"Maybe for a pig such as yourself, sure," She retorted, cornering him with a water balloon in hand, "but just wait until I wipe you clean off the board in this balloon war."
"Since when did this become a competition?" Nora asked, exasperated by the bickering, but Casey had already stormed out into the yard to join Marti at the sprinkler.
"Oh, it always has been," Derek smiled, following Casey out back.
She ended up with welts on her stomach, which she really should have anticipated. Who wears a two-piece to a water balloon war? Still, it was endlessly gratifying to watch the balloons burst open against the taut skin of her belly and legs. For this reason, she was really his only target, as he was to her. Derek was delighted to learn that she was just as intensely competitive as himself, which made the idea of her defeat all the more enticing.
At one point, the initial chaos of the fight blossomed into a beautiful game of strategy, in which Casey rolled over the kiddy table to form a small but sturdy barricade. This attracted the allegiance of Lizzie, who simply didn't want to get hit by anyone. This naturally prompted Edwin to pair up with his elder brother, bringing the small offering of a beach umbrella. It wasn't impressive, as far as barricades go, but it'd do in a pinch. Marty ran back and forth between the two stalwart stations, just enjoying her time as the youngest and therefore least likely to become target.
"Step out from the barricade, cowards, and fight us in straight line warfare!" Derek demanded, rising from behind the umbrella.
"Like men!" Edwin added. But the girls didn't emerge. The table, however, did start to gradually creep forward, and soon the boys found themselves being charged by the kiddie table, a screaming pair of sisters emerging and attacking them in full force. Many blows were suffered, though some fell to the ground ineffectually, and soon they were depleted of munitions.
"Lizzie, charge Edwin!" Casey screamed, heading for Derek with open arms before he could fully register the attack and launch his balloons. They were in the mud in mere seconds.
"I've got Derek, Lizzie, destroy their supply!" Casey yelled, pinning Derek into the mud. And there arose a very formidable problem for Derek. Casey was stronger than he had imagined, or perhaps she'd gone easy on him in their previous battles for dominance over television stations. Regardless, she was strong enough to hold him, and this was a very bad situation. He was wrestling...in the mud...with Casey. Apart from the terrible reality of her warm tanned skin against his, she was also verbally berating him, which really was taking it too far in his opinion.
"Here's your chance to surrender, oh mighty Derek." Casey laughed. He had the satisfaction of hearing her, breathless, to affirm that he was at least posing some sort of challenge.
"You know I never surrender, princess," he bit back, rolling Casey onto her back and pinning her with a knee and his palms. He hadn't expected this and, quite honestly, wasn't prepared to handle the situation. Not with her hot pliant body, smelling like sunscreen and sweat, beneath him in the mud. Suddenly, the idea of an empty yard seemed very appealing.
"Derek, help! Lizzie's a lot stronger than she looks!" Edwin called out, but Derek was preoccupied with a very squirmy and muddy Casey, battling thoughts about how easy it would be to accidentally undo the ties on her two piece. He needed to get away from her.
"Get off, hockeyhead, you're hurting me!" Casey squealed, trying her best to overturn him but finding no vantage from the muddy ground below.
"You started this," he grunted, rolling her onto her stomach with a forceful hand. He had begun pulling her back up against him and dragging the pair of them upright when George finally looked up from the grill.
"Hey, hey, enough!" He yelled, and they all halted. Derek didn't think to release Casey, purely for precautionary reasons, of course.
"De-rek! Let go of me this. instant," Casey whisper-yelled as George lectured them. She was bound and determined to see him laid low, so he kept his arms snaked around her midsection. She never stopped struggling.
"No way," he whispered in her ear, "you can't be trusted."
"This is supposed to be family fun, not a war! And Derek, let your sister go." George had nearly exhausted his speech by now.
"Step-sister," the pair of them said in unison, if only loud enough for each other to hear.
They had a beautiful thing in the beginning, before the Inquisition, a period that Derek recognized as the worst in Derek and Casey history. It changed everything. Before the Inquisition, he didn't have to question why he did the things that he did to get under her skin, he just knew that it made him happy and inexplicably satisfied when he truly got to her. But people started noticing: parents and siblings first, and then friends, and then (the worst) Casey herself. And they all wanted to know why? As if he had an explanation.
"What is it about Casey, man? You can't leave her alone. I mean, you look at her like you want to tear her head off." Sam had been particularly curious about the whole thing. In fact, his best friend was - quite sadly - the leader of the Inquisition. Derek's response was usually of the nonchalant variety, a quick shrug of the shoulders and a flippantly vague, "Beats me," usually did the trick. It never satisfied anyone, but these responses were typical from Derek and people move on when you give them little to work with.
Who was he to define it, anyway? His strange relationship with Casey was a happy mystery to him, and he was content to leave it that way. But curiosity doesn't quit, and people started stating instead of asking.
"You and Casey have a...strange relationship." He'd come to hear this phrase countless times. He'd sigh and say something along the lines of, "Casey's a strange person; I doubt she'd be capable of anything that constitutes a 'normal' relationship." For some reason, it always shut them up sooner if he was eating something, so he'd taken to carrying apples in his pockets. Casey question? Easy to handle: short, quipped reply followed by a hearty bite of the blood red fruit. That always made it clear that he was ready to move on to a different subject.
But after a while, the beauty of not knowing was lost and it couldn't be salvaged. After everyone started asking, it became real for the both of them, and they wanted to know the answers, too. Well, at least he did, secretly. It was pointless to question it, and he resented everyone for pointing it out, but he couldn't go back to the blissfully ignorant days where he would make her squeal and squirm just because he wanted to, and leave it at that. He never gave up on inspiring the squeals and squirms - that would defy the natural law - but he would never again bask in the simple satisfaction of it. Derek would walk away from her, questioning, why did I just do that? He'd only begun to suspect the answer.