And The Winner Is...
By TheBucketWoman
Disclaimer: I do not own LWD, or that one song I reference (Chris Rock's "No Sex.") Don't sue me, per favore.
Chapter Twenty-Eight
Part One: Edwin
There was a long line for the shower when they got home. Four teenagers covered in paint will do that every time.
"Just let me know when you guys are done," Edwin said, leaving the others to argue over who got to be first. He knew by now that he would never be first.
He used the time to go into his room and load the memory card from the camera into the computer. He saved the shots he wanted and printed up some thumbnails for him and Lizzie to look over later. If all worked out right, he could edit those into his movie.
Lizzie came in.
"Lost the coin toss," she said.
"Who won?" Edwin asked. Lizzie said nothing.
"Don't tell me they're in there together again," Edwin said.
"Whatcha doin, Edwin," Lizzie said, changing the subject.
"Oh my GAWD," Edwin said. "We need to put a sign on that door that says 'Champagne Room' or something 'cause this has to stop!"
"Champagne room?"
"Didn't you ever hear that song 'No sex—' " he began.
"Ew! No!" Lizzie said. "Stop it." So she'd heard it. She picked at a patch of red paint of the leg of her old, too tight jeans. He thought mournfully that she probably wouldn't wear them again.
"What the hell are you guys doing in here?" Derek said. He was still dressed.
"You said-" Edwin began.
"No," Lizzie said. "I didn't. You assumed." She smiled at him smugly. He was going to get her for that.
"Assumed what?" Derek said.
"That there's no chicken left from last night, but I think there is," Lizzie lied.
"Nope," Derek said. "There isn't."
"You ate all of that chicken?" Edwin asked.
"Not just me," he said. "So, whatcha doing?"
"Nothing," Edwin said. "Putting pictures in."
"Oooh," Derek said, pushing Edwin, chair and all, out of the way. Edwin had to grab the edge of the desk to stop the momentum of the computer chair.
"Lemme see," Derek said. He clicked on the slide show feature.
Up popped a shot of a perfectly clean Casey, carefully painting a door and smiling for the camera. A couple feet away stood Derek, a green smear across one cheek. The next shot showed Casey struggling away from Derek who had her in a bone crusher of a hug. Shot number three showed Casey looking down at her newly green t-shirt and arms.
"Can I have a copy of these?" Derek asked.
"Yeah," Edwin said.
"Hey!" Lizzie said. "Who took this?"
A picture of Edwin, Emily and Casey panned across the screen. Casey and Emily were trying to teach Edwin a dance move, and even from the still shot, it was obvious that he had not an ounce of rhythm or coordination. Lizzie could be seen sitting on the edge of the stage, laughing at the three of them. The next shot was of Edwin and Lizzie in profile. She was still sitting on the stage, and he was standing in front of her, both of her hands in his.
Derek grinned at the both of them. "Aren't you glad you brought the telephoto lens, Ed?"
"De-rek!" Lizzie said.
"Yeah, kinda," Edwin said.
"Ooh, here's the one," Derek said. He hit pause. It was the shot of the handprint on Sam's back. "I'm just sorry it wasn't his ass that got painted. But I think it'll be my wallpaper anyway. And—" He unpaused it.
Derek was struck dumb for a second.
It was the shot of Brianna giving Sam the bedroom eyes. Sam was caught in a half-smile like he couldn't believe his luck.
"I don't think that I've ever said this before," Derek began, "And I'll probably never say it again, but you, little brother, are the man, and I am so completely jealous. I cannot believe you got that shot. I thought you were checking out the pics you had already."
"Yeah," Edwin said. "I'm sneaky like that." It was so easy. The camera didn't make too much noise, and it worked pretty well without the flash in regular lighting. The only time he'd used the flash was to let Sam know that his picture had been taken from behind.
There was a shot of Chris twirling two paintbrushes like glowsticks, and another of him holding both hands in the shape of a frame like he was getting ready to paint a landscape instead of a display case. Then he posed for a shot atop Mushnik's store countertop, a paintbrush in his mouth like it was a rose.
Edwin had caught Lizzie, Casey, and Derek in separate shots. Each of them had been snapped unaware, and each had a look of actual concentration as they tried to get some actual work done.
"You're really getting good at this," Derek said, his face turning serious. "You can practically count Lizzie's freckles, look at that."
"Shut up," Lizzie said, bumping him. Derek pinched her cheek and she crossed her eyes at him.
This was when the hiss of the pipes stopped, indicating that Casey was done in the shower.
Lizzie, being the only one standing at that point, ran for the door before either of the boys could make a move. Derek laughed. Edwin was furious. He got up and tried to give chase.
"Lizzie!" He saw her take the last three steps from the attic at a jump. Casey, in her towel, moved out of the way so that Lizzie couldn't knock her down. She looked up at Edwin, eyes huge beneath the towel on her head; then, putting two and two together, pulled her towel tighter and continued on her way to her room.
"Give it up, bro," Derek said when Edwin came back in. "She's too fast for you."
Part Two: Casey.
Marti came back while Casey was ordering Chinese.
"Got extra lo mein for you, Marti," she said.
"Co-ol," Marti said. She wriggled onto the couch next to Lizzie. In the spot Casey had only just vacated.
"Would ya jump into my grave that fast?" Casey said.
"If there's a remote," Marti said. Lizzie's other side was not an option. Edwin was sprawled up against her, his back up against her side, her arm around his chest. He had one leg hooked over the arm of the couch and his head on her shoulder. Derek seemed oblivious to all of this, stretched out as he was in his own personal recliner.
"I guess I will just stake out a bit of floor, then huh?" she said. "Some nice dustbunnies for company? On the hard, cold, floor?"
Who made all of them so impervious to guilt, Casey wondered.
"Edwin," Casey said.
"Yes, Casey."
"Move or I'll sit on you," she said sweetly.
"Bring it," he said.
She strode over to the couch and crouched down like she was really going to do it, but he called her bluff.
"D'oh!" she said, giving up. "You're such a...couch hog!"
"Good one," he said, grinning, every tooth winking in the light of the TV.
"If I said what I wanted to say, I'd have to wash my own mouth out with soap, now wouldn't I?"
"Oooh," Marti said. "Casey's gonna curse."
"No," Casey said. "I'm not. That's the point."
She stalked off to get one of the armchairs from the back of the room.
"Casey," Derek said. He waved her over with one hand.
"What?" Casey said, coming over.
"C'mere," he said. She moved a little closer and he pulled her down on top of him.
"We'll break the chair!" she yelped on the way down. They rocked backward ominously, but then came to a stop.
"You were saying?" Derek said.
The doorbell rang.
"Sugar-honey-iced-tea!" Casey said, getting up.
"Ow-ow-ow," Derek said. "Fffff-fudge," he said.
She didn't need to guess what happened. "Sorry," she said. "Are you okay?"
"Yeah," he said through gritted teeth.
"Are you sure?" she said. "Do you need ice?"
The doorbell rang again. "Delivery?" a voice said from outside.
"Derek?"
"I need food," he reminded. "Food is here."
The food was there.
Over dinner, they all made fun of Derek for not getting the hang of chopsticks, but somehow tonight, it wasn't any fun. He just sat there quietly with his fork and allowed himself to be mocked. Casey thought he was in pain from having his nuts crushed, so she got the others to back off after a minute or so.
After they ate, she followed Derek upstairs. She was pretty sure that her original plan was shot, but maybe they could talk about stuff at least.
"How bad?" she asked.
"I've had worse," he said. He sat down on his bed easily enough, and leaned back across it. She got down on her stomach next to him. "I'll be okay in the morning."
"I noticed that you were quiet even before that," she said.
"Not really," he said. "Just thinking, and before you feel my forehead, Miss Predictable, I am not running a temperature, nor am I high from the paint fumes."
"Okay, wiseapple," she said. "Explain yourself, then."
He stared at the ceiling for a minute to gather his thoughts.
"I dunno," he said. "I think that I need to figure something out."
"What's that," she said.
"You'll laugh," he said.
"No I won't," she said. "Now what is it?"
"It's stupid," Derek began. "I saw something today. Edwin's pictures."
"Your hair did something weird? That happens to me all the time."
"Casey," he said. She shut up.
"Edwin is talented," he said. "He's just one of those kids, you know? He's fucking brilliant."
"So, what," Casey said. "You're jealous?"
"Well, yeah," Derek said. "There is that, but mostly I'm just kinda...what's the word..."
"Proud?"
"Yeah, but that's not it."
"Amazed?"
"Getting warmer."
"Thunderstruck?"
"Bingo," he said. "We need to tell him about that short film contest. I will never be half as good as he is now."
"You're still going to enter," Casey said. It wasn't a question.
"I dunno."