Mistake 7

How did this happen?

I was captain of the hockey team. Girls lined up (twice) to kiss me at the kissing booth. I have a hot girlfriend. My brother respected me, or feared me, depending on how you look at it. I got away with everything and won every bet I ever made. I was very pleased with life.

Apparently, Life wasn't very pleased with me.

I somehow ended up having a crush on my stepsister.

My klutzy, grade grubbing stepsister.

I've finally accepted it.

Well… sort of.

I'm going to try and stop it.

I'm not going to sleep for twenty-four hours.

I'll explain my reasoning:

This all started with my dreams. I'm assuming you know this and haven't skipped the first six chapters of this little story of mine. So all I have to do is stop dreaming of Casey. But the question is how?

I've heard that you can't remember your dreams when you have a good night sleep. So all I need to do is sleep really, really well. And to do that, I need to be really, really tired.

Staying awake for an entire day has also been a lifelong dream of mine.

I can kill two birds with one stone.

… … …

That's something Casey would say, isn't it?

(((((O)))))

"What are you doing?"

Edwin froze, his hand still on the Pepsi case which he had just set in the cart.

I hate Pepsi.

"I was just getting some of my own soda. You know, since you're getting all that Dr. Pepper," Edwin explained.

The nerve of him.

"I'm not buying you Pepsi," I said, "That stuff is pure crap."

"I'm buying it with my own money," he said.

"Oh."

That morning I had decided to go to the store. Dad made me bring Edwin. I grumbled and complained. I really didn't need him getting all curious about what I was doing. He already questioned it. I told him I was just stocking up. The last day of spring break was coming up and I wanted to stay up late. Which was the truth.

Not that I care about lying or anything. That's something Casey would do.

I turned around to grab a fourth case of my soda. If I was going to stay up all night I was going to need a lot of caffeine. I was also getting several bags of potato chips and those Ritz crackers and spray cheese.

"You are going to get so sick."

Did I forget to mention that Casey came along too?

I turned around to look at her. She was standing next to the Diet Cokes, her left hand resting on her hip, the other one hanging limply at her side. Her face was twisted in a look of disgust as she glanced from me to the cart.

"You can't get sick off of Dr. Pepper," I told her, "It's the Nectar of the Gods."

"I beg to differ," she said.

I laughed. "You can beg all you want, but it won't change the facts."

She rolled her eyes. "Whatever Derek. I'm gonna go get the stuff for dinner."

She turned to walk away and I couldn't help my next action.

I tilted my head to the side a bit and stared at her butt.

I make myself sick. I don't need help from the Nectar of the Gods.

(((((O)))))

I could hear Casey making her usual rounds as she went to everybody's room to say good night. She even came to my room. I was a bit tenser than I would have liked to be as I listened to her say good night to Lizzie, Marti, and then yell up the stairs to Edwin, telling him not to stay up too late.

Honestly, you'd think we didn't have parents.

I was next. She always saved me for last. I always assumed it was because she hated me. But as I sat there, playing my computer game which I couldn't seem to concentrate on anymore, the crazy thought floated through my head that maybe she likes to save the best for last.

There was a soft knock on my door.

I didn't answer and she came in anyway.

I couldn't help but look up at her and smirk, completely forgetting about my game.

She opened her mouth but then looked behind me at the six cases of soda stacked up.

"Derek, you're going to kill yourself."

"Thanks, Case," I said, "I didn't know you cared so much."

She rolled her eyes. "I just don't want you dead."

I snorted. "You have made many comments in the past that contradict that last statement."

She got that look on her face. The one that told me she was thinking something sentimental. Something that would make me want to puke because it's so Family Channel or Disney.

But she didn't say anything. She just bit her lip and crossed her arms over her chest. I had to force myself to keep my eyes on her face and not stray anywhere else.

"Sorry," she said.

Now I was confused.

"What?"

She took a breath and let her arms fall to her sides. "You're really not that bad, Derek. I'm sorry for—"

"Get out," I interrupted, "Before I throw up all over you."

She laughed and turned around to leave. Right before she closed the door she said, "Sweet dreams Derek."

I looked back at my computer, where You Lose was flashing across the screen in red letters.

(((((O)))))

Up.

Down.

Up.

Down.

Up.

"Ouch!"

Down.

I rubbed the spot on my head where I had hit the ceiling. I was apparently getting too big to jump on my bed. So I looked around my room for something else to do.

The clock said it was 1:37. My eyes felt slightly tired, but the sugar rush from all the soda was keeping me up. I felt like jogging or playing hockey or something that required movement.

I had already tried running along the walls, which ended in my knocking the stack of CDs on my desk when I caught myself before I hit the ground. I still hadn't picked up the CDs but cleaned out from under my bed. I found a box filled with notebooks from third grade. Anna Brock and I had passed notes back and forth to each other in my green notebook. The blue math notebook was filled with scribbled more than numbers. The red English book was totally blank. I put that one aside to use for something useful some other time, and the black History notebook was the only thing with actual writing in it. For some reason I had always liked history. It could be interesting if you had the right teacher.

All my computer games had already gotten old and there was no way I could just sit still and listen to my iPod.

Then an epiphany hit me.

Quietly, I slipped out of my room and went to the room next door.

The room was completely dark so I flicked on the light. Casey stirred just a little bit. I grabbed her shoulder and shook her.

"Casey, wake up."

She groaned and rolled over.

"Casey," I repeated, "Get up."

"What Derek?" She said so fiercely I almost jumped back.

"I can't sleep."

"Derek" she said weakly, covering her head with the blanket, "Please go away."

Instead, I grabbed her arm and pulled her out of bed. The blanket and half a pillow fell off with her.

"I hate you," she mumbled, starting to get up.

"No, you don't. You know I'm a great guy."

I hadn't even finished my sentence when Casey grabbed my ankles and pulled my feet out from under me. I fell with a loud thump on the floor.

"Ow, my butt," I moaned.

Casey started to stand up, but her both her legs were twisted in the blanket. I grabbed her knees and pulled so she fell back to the floor too. I flopped down on my back next to her.

"Are you awake?" I asked.

"Barely."

I turned my head to look at her. Her eyes were closed and her lips slightly parted. We were only about five inches apart. If I kissed her it would be so easy. I would just have to lean over and press my lips to hers.

But how would she react?

Well, there's only one way to find out, right?

I started moving closer to her, so slowly it was almost like I wasn't moving at all. But I knew I was. The distance between us was becoming smaller and smaller. My stomach was twisting and it was suddenly way too hot in her room.

"Derek?"

I flinched and moved back about a foot away.

"Y-yeah?"

"Can I go back to bed now?" she asked.

I cleared my throat. "Um…" my voice sounded scratchy, "Yeah, sure, whatever."

I jumped to my feet and ran to my room faster than you can say close call.