Four: Derek

I might have overreacted when I snapped at Casey about the stair incident. It's not like I've never been on the receiving end of her klutziness before. During her crush on Sam, she walked into everything she passed and knocked over anything that wasn't securely fastened. She passed me a lot during that time; luckily I was securely fastened, at least enough that she didn't actually knock me to the ground. Needless to say, I was pretty used to bumps and bruises when it came to Casey.

But this time was different. I was already mad at her, if for no reason other than she was invading my mind. My mind was the one place that was completely Casey-free and she had to go and ruin that.

I don't even know what was so different. It was a stupid fight, just like any other fight we'd had before. It started that way, at least. It's always the same story—she insults my appearance, I insult hers; she insults my effort, I insult hers. It's never anything with real substance. This time, though, I guess I'd just had enough. I let the superficial insults give way to real, hard jabs at character.

"Mr. Venturi, care to give us the answer to problem thirteen?"

Shit. I hadn't been listening, which my deer-in-the-headlights look made obvious to my ever impatient math teacher. I looked over to Sam, hoping he'd give me some clue to help me out, but no luck. He shrugged apologetically, silently thankful he wasn't in my position, I'm sure.

"Forty-seven?" I flashed a smile, hoping I could get by with being cute. Somehow I didn't think my charm was going to work on my balding, forty-something math teacher with the wrinkled khakis and stained tie.

"See me after class, Mr. Venturi." I was right about that charm not working.

I really couldn't afford to get stuck in detention after school. Coach had made it clear to us exactly how much he thought missing practice affected our games. Benched wasn't really a word I was familiar with. That wasn't going to change because of Casey, that was for sure.

"Sure thing, Mr. Mason." I sunk back in my chair, thinking I might be able to disappear for the rest of the class. Maybe if he couldn't see me he'd forget about giving me detention.

When the bell rang and the rest of the class rushed eagerly from the room, ignoring Mr. Mason's shouts to do a bunch of problems I never bothered to glance over, I hung back, attempting to look nonchalant.

"Mr. Venturi, care to explain to me why you seem incapable of paying attention in my class?"

"It's not that I wasn't paying attention, Mr. Mason, I just happen to zone out for a few minutes there in the middle. I was thinking about… last night's homework. Fascinating stuff, really, it is."

"You find matrix multiplication fascinating, Mr. Venturi?"

"Sure I do. Keanu's got nothing on this stuff." I honestly had no idea what this matrix multiplication stuff was, but I sure as hell knew what lying was.

"As much as I doubt you're even remotely telling the truth, I'm going to let you go with a warning. But next time this happens, you'll have detention. Is that clear, Mr. Venturi?"

"Yes, sir. Very clear." This man really liked my name, it seemed.

"You're free to go."

"Thank you, sir."

The smile may have failed me, but the lies never did.

I fled the classroom, not paying attention, and collided with another body as I rounded the corner.

I looked up, ready to snap at whoever this was to watch where they were walking, when she beat me to it.

"Seriously, Derek? Can't stop thinking about yourself long enough to leave a classroom? It's a little sad, don't you think?" Great. She was throwing my words back in my face.

Maybe detention would have been better.