A/N: Hello, everyone! I'm finally back with another update! I know you guys are itching to know who that girl in the last chapter was, but.. she will not make an appearance here, so you'll have to find that out later on. :) Happy reading and enjoy!

Disclaimer: I do not own LwD, Twitter, or any of the TMs and registered TMs included here.

Chapter 12: The Runaway "Girlfriend"

The busy buzzing of the night resumed and continued on after the brief unpleasant situation that had occurred on the dance floor moments ago. Almost everyone present in the scene had already carried on with their previous engagements, brushing off the encounter as if it was just some half-time nuisance. There were still a few who couldn't drop the issue easily, and their occasional glances were beginning to cause extreme discomfort to an already very agitated Casey who had just made her way back to her seat. Suddenly, the place didn't seem like the peaceful and romantic haven she had considered it to be earlier in their stay. The reflection of building lights being cast on the Thames looked like prison bars, alerting her of impending doom. The music neither felt soothing nor alleviating; it was hurting her ears and making her feel nauseous. Gone was the fairytale-like scene she was thoroughly enjoying moments ago. And just like the beat up (thanks to her fork-stabbing) soggy dessert that still lay half eaten on her plate, what was once a sorta-kinda beautiful night ended disastrously and half-relished.

What is happening? Her heart pounded loudly inside her chest as her mind drowned in a sea of thoughts and weird hallucinations. She looked at Matthew who had also just settled back down, seemingly oblivious of her current flustered state. The surroundings started to blur in intervals, her vision was getting clouded. It was as if the whole world was closing in on her and she was running out of space to breathe in. It wasn't exactly the greatest feeling in the world, seeing as she was extremely claustrophobic. Suddenly, it felt like the last days of high school all over again. Or maybe even worse.

Nothing made sense. The Derek situation, the Matthew situation, the Derek-and-the-girl situation, the I-am-caught-up-in-this-sick-twisted-turn-of-events situation. Was she supposed to be hurt and angry? Was she supposed to be relieved? Should there be tears streaming down her cheeks right now, or should there be a smile forming on her lips? What was she supposed to feel? Nothing was clear inside her head, she was lost in translation together with the pieces she was trying to put together. It was a complete mental mess. She tried to find consolation in her date's presence, but he was too occupied with his phone to even give her the slightest regard. Cupping her forehead with her right hand, she rested her elbow on the table and shut her eyes tightly.

"Glad we got rid of that 'problem stepbrother' of yours," Matthew finally spoke, lowering his phone on the table. Seeing as she looked like her mind was nowhere to be found again, he averted his focus on the menu that they had requested earlier to be left behind in case of re-ordering.

Picking it up to peruse the selections, he continued on without giving her a second glance, "Serves him right. I mean, that dude is a total incestuous creep! Does anyone know about this?"

Casey almost choked on her own breath. She found herself completely stunned, gaping and staring wide-eyed at the glossy surface of the varnished wooden table in utter appallment. For a second there, she actually felt the urge to punch his face repeatedly, but her sense got the better of her and kept her from making a Derek-ja-vu of that earlier fiasco.

Well, there was her consolation. Not that she was actually relieved – in fact, she was completely disgusted – but thanks to his mouthful gust of contemptuous words, she had finally come to a striking realization: this guy in front of her was the most incredibly egotistic, pompous, vulgar, self-absorbed wisenheimer of a human being she had ever had the misfortune to be dealing with. At least she had the patience to withstand Truman's arrogance for months, but this? He couldn't even keep his rudeness for more than six hours! Ridiculous!

Without giving it a second thought, she pushed her seat back vigorously as she stood as fast as she could, reached for her purse which was resting on her seat, and proceeded walking away from their table.

"Wait, where are you going?" Matthew halted her, gripping her by the arm.

"I'm going home," she replied sternly without even looking back, jerking her arm to release it from his hold before advancing quickly across the hall.

Frantically reaching for his wallet in his back pocket, he followed suit, cutting through a group of people who had just arrived and were currently being shown their seats. He received several dirty looks from the other diners who were once again forced to draw their attention to the chase. Looks like with all the ruckus they had caused the entire night, it was unlikely that they would ever be allowed to enter this particular restaurant again. Not to mention the fact that they looked like they were going to do an infamous eat-and-run.

Or not. Still keeping his eyes focused on the direction she had turned as she went through the door, he took the first card his hand touched, left it at the counter by the cash register and quickly informed the waiter of his return.

"Casey!" He called out as he managed to step out of the restaurant, almost knocking someone over as he desperately tried to catch up.

"Casey, wait!"

He continued with his bellowing, making sure she wouldn't disappear from his line of vision, "Casey!"

The said person didn't want to look back anymore, but her high heels were keeping her from moving any faster. She wanted to stop for a minute to take her shoes off, but the thought of running barefoot on dirty ground was making her cringe. It was a losing effort. She could actually feel herself getting more and more irritated by the second as her lungs heaved desperately for air. Aware that Matthew would be able to catch up with her any time soon as his voice started to ring fuller in her ears, Casey, unable to restrain her seething anger any longer, swung herself around and confronted him with much contempt in her voice.

"How dare you talk about Derek like that!"

Her sudden outburst caused Matthew to stop dead on his tracks and hold his breath. They were right around the bend where not many people walk through, so they were practically alone. This seemed to have given Casey so much more robustness in her tone and manner, since she began advancing toward him as she vented, making him back up a little.

"I was wrong about you! You are nothing like the person I thought you were! And what makes you think you can insult and humiliate people like that in public? Derek could be annoying, but at least have some respect! Oh, you are top of the class, alright. You're a Class A Jerk! An insensitive, tactless, arrogant jerk. Whatever this is that we're doing is done. I don't know why you're friends with my best friend, but this connection ends tonight!"

She almost had him pinned to the side of the building with her rough prodding on his chest, but it didn't stop her from staring as icily as she could, mouthing, with as much bitterness as she could rally, the very last words she ever wanted to say before leaving.

"And just in case you haven't noticed, I am not your girl. You must be out of your mind."

Panting heavily, Casey gave him one last jab on his chest before lifting her finger away. But before she could put her hand down, she felt a strong commanding grip on her wrist, making her freeze on the spot. Within a split moment, the tables seemed to have drastically turned. The courage she had mustered earlier vanished into thin air and the rest of her fieriness had been seeped to basically nothing. She tried to maintain her glare, but there was something in his aura that said he wasn't one to be messed with right now.

"You know what? Maybe you're right. Maybe I am," Matthew spoke hoarsely, keeping his tight hold on her wrist. "You wanna know why?"

She couldn't help but show a little bit of fear in her eyes at this moment. This definitely was a side of him that she wasn't thrilled to see. He really was nothing like that sweet, smart, and composed guy she thought he actually was. Right now, putting him in his place was the least of her concerns; she just wanted to go home. She secretly hoped for a way out, that people would pass by and see them; but no one seemed to notice, not even after her series of loud outbursts. She was literally and metaphorically stuck in this predicament, waiting to be the recipient of his forthcoming string of words.

Staring deeply into her eyes, he let the answer spit right out of his mouth, "I don't even like you."

What? It was like a series of tidal waves crashing over the walls of her blood vessels, spilling its destructive debris all over her body and drowning her insides in the process. Now she was completely confounded and speechless, mouth ajar but nothing but air escaping from the crevice between her lips. She shuddered under his grip and she knew he noticed it because he started wearing the vilest smirk she had ever seen in her entire life. She definitely was not expecting that. At all.

"I only agreed to put up with this joke because Emily told me to do it," Matthew resumed his confession, quickly casting her hand aside and releasing her from his grasp. "Said she wanted you out of the way."

Casey's face suddenly went even paler than it was moments ago. She slowly retreated backwards, as this was the only thing she could think of doing at the moment. Just when she thought she couldn't be more shocked, here she was, gravely devastated. What does that suppose to mean? Her eyes began to water as truth after truth began to surface. She could feel the extreme heaviness in her chest, as if her heart had gone sinking further and further, loosening the bolts on her knees and trying to bring her entire body with it. That's not true. She shook her head in disbelief as she stared at him, wide-eyed and stunned. It can't be.

"I- I don't understa-"

"Neither do I!" He responded immediately, cutting her mid-sentence; his frustration evident in his raspy voice. "But, I don't care, because what she says goes!"

This time, it was Matthew who was shaking, and although he was trying his best to hide it, the fast heaving of his chest was just too unusual to go unnoticed. His face showed signs of irritation as he kept her locked up in his stare. For a moment, no one dared to speak audibly, though in their eyes their conversation remained.

All of a sudden, as if something just clicked and he started springing once again to life, he began moving closer towards Casey, who also started taking bigger steps backward to keep the gap, causing her to bump her back on the side door of a car parked along the sidewalk. Whether it was fortunate or unfortunate that the alarm didn't sound, she couldn't decide anymore. His features turned from agitated to sinister. Once again, a sly smirk crept across his face; but unlike Derek's, it was seriously menacing. He cornered her completely, letting both his palms rest against the door window and enclosing her in between.

"You care about your stepbrother, don't you?"

Casey's eyes shot wide, but she managed nothing else but look fixedly upon his glowing green eyes. She was still absolutely shaken by the revelations that had unfolded, and also terrified of how close he currently was to her body. It wasn't her intention to give him any answer to his inquiry, yet somehow, he looked as if he was satisfied with her silence, as if he actually found the reply he was looking for.

"I am not who you think I am, Casey," Matthew whispered, not breaking his gaze, "And I could be worse."

Lowering his face inches more into her breathing space, he traced the contours of her pursued lips with his eyes as he continued, "Let's just say... Derek's reputation at Queen's can go down the drain because of me. It's a little thing called... frat connection."

"And it's all up to you," his gaze traveled back into her quivering blue eyes as he spoke, "You can make him or break him, Case."

Her breathing was held and limited the whole time that he was spilling his threatening speech, her eyes wide open in astonishment. This really was even worse than she thought. She didn't know which part was more nauseating: his willingness to ruin someone else's life and bring everyone down with him, or his skin-shuddering way of saying her nickname of close-relational endearment (read: strictly for family and close friends only). The tears that were building on the sides of the eyes now flowed over her cheeks; the sound of sobbing that couldn't go through her tightly-closed lips vibrated from her throat.

"So," he avoided her tears and focused on the strands of hair sitting on her shoulders, "if you want Derek to survive the next few years of his life..."

Letting the tips of his fingers trail the bouncing curves, he concluded, "... stick to the plan."

With all the anger that she was suppressing inside and somehow finding a bit of strength to fight back, Casey slapped his hand away from her locks and tried to push him far back.

"How dare you!" She shrieked with the little energy that she had left, pouncing his chest with her fist. But Matthew overpowered her shoves by taking both hands by the wrist to keep her from moving them.

"Let. Go. Of me," she demanded through gnashing teeth with as much fury in her voice as she could manage, her chest heaving heavily.

Shaking his head as his lips broke into a smirk, Matthew released his hold on her and kept a good distance away.

"I'll see you later then... what's a good word..." He straightened his posture, placing both hands in his jeans' front pockets, and gave her a wink, "... sweetie?" To which Casey replied with the most hate-filled eye-rolling she had ever done so far in her life.

He didn't see it. As soon as he said his departing word, he turned his back on her and proceeded walking away. However, few steps down the road, he twisted briefly and faced her once again, "Oh, and just so you know, I hate poetry."

And as swiftly as he had divulged every single thing that she wasn't prepared to hear, Matthew had disappeared around the corner, leaving a distraught Casey, slumping beside the car that she was fortunate enough to have as a support for her weight.

She wanted to cry – again.

Casey had been silently crying for the past hour, just stopping whenever she heard movement outside her room. It was a quarter past twelve already and everyone started to retreat to their own spaces for the night, making it even more difficult for her to continue sobbing her heart out. Her back was against her headboard; her face buried in the pillow she was hugging very tightly.

Nobody questioned her wanting to go upstairs right away when she came home after making an excuse about a bad stomach. Although Nora did offer to give her something to ease the pain, which she faintly but firmly refused. Nobody knew she had to go home all by herself, waiting for an hour long at the bus stop and walking a few more blocks in the dark to reach their house. Nobody knew about her horrible date or the terrible dilemma she was forced to face and was still facing. Nobody was aware of the shocking and painful reality she was unwilling to accept – that all this time, she didn't really have a friend. Nobody... except her.

She didn't know what to do or who to talk with. Her mind was in a state of denial, but her heart was beginning to see right through things. However, it was still rather unfathomable to her that her own best friend, whom she had treated like a second sister, would subject her into such a horrific arrangement. Emily, of all people. Of all people! The person she trusted the most with her thoughts and feelings (apart from her mom and sister). Of all people who would turn against her. Why Emily? Why her? Sure, there were several times when they had gone into petty arguments, but not even in her wildest dreams did she think that she would do this to her. Never had she thought that she would go this far to get back with her past. Unless there was some other reason, but even that lone thought of hurting her to get back with Derek seemed... incredibly insane! Would she really do that to me? And to make her suffer like this in the hands of someone like Matthew? Why! And how? How could she plan for all of these things to happen when there wasn't even a remote sign of her and Derek getting together. Nothing! In all honesty and frankness, with all the chaos that happened tonight and what Matthew did, she probably had lost her true next-door neighbor. Forever.

Matthew. How would she even begin to express how utterly horrible that person was? Everything she thought he was was wrong. He wasn't even a tuna after all, and he was worse than a shark! He had the features of an elegant Regal Tang, but deep inside, he was as ferocious as a beast; as mysteriously terrifying as a sea monster. He was a hundred times worse than Truman, for Pete's sake! Here she was, all set to admire him, hoping that he would finally be the one to end the jerkfest of a guy-lineup in her world of romance. Emily even praised him and told her how perfect they were for each other – like a fitting glove on a delicate hand. Stupid. She wanted to slap herself. Stupid! Not only did the festival of jerks continued to parade along the streets of her heart, she actually had the misfortune of meeting the king himself. Lizzie was right, she should have prevented it when she had the chance.

It pained her – so much so to the point of being unable to breathe. It was hurting her to know that all the blame had to go on her; it was her fault she was stuck in this awful situation. It was her fault that Derek's post-secondary life was now hanging perilously on her hand. She cringed at the thought of what Matthew's influence and connections could do to him. Maybe she should just inform the authorities? Of what exactly? She was so lost. All she knew at that moment was that it was all up to her - she could make him or break him. And she could never break him. Could she? But, after all, wasn't it really Derek's fault. If only he had said something, anything at all; if he had stalled, thrown the phone out the window, teased her, laughed at her, mocked her – if he had done anything other than standing silently, anything at all, it could've ended up differently. Technically, this was all his fault! If he had not gone out with Emily in the first place – if he had not been such a stupid, reckless, immature, brainless, morally reprehensible pig – if he had not existed at all...!

"Arrrgggghhh-!" she screamed her frustration out in her pillow, hoping it would muffle out most of it.

But it wasn't that. It was definitely her decision and she couldn't blame anyone for it. It was her decision to let Matthew in and let Derek go. Matthew was her mistake, not Derek's. Her mess, her clean-up, right?

In the middle of her tearful contemplation, she heard the sound of creaking board once more, but unlike the series of fast or regular successions moving to and fro, it was lighter and slower, like it was taking its time to build up. By this time, she had stopped crying; her palm was covering her mouth to minimize the sound of her hiccups, observing the very faint motion traveling outside.

It stopped right outside her door. Her heart began beating wildly as she anticipated the next moment. She could feel the heat and the tension, as if there were no dividing walls and she could see right through the wooden entryway. But before she could move another inch, the heat dissipated as the floor began to receive more light thumping. The sound went farther and farther to the right, leaving the once-filled space empty and cold. Her walls seemed to have produced an eerie squeak as the door to the next room began opening – then it shut with a loud thud.

She lowered herself down on her bed and brought the covers up to her head as silence overtook the entire house. Clutching her chest as she curled herself into a ball, she let another sob escape from her lips.

"Derek, have you seen Casey?"

Lizzie inquired of a newly showered Derek who was seen trotting down the stairs while rubbing his hair with a towel. He walked past her as if she wasn't existing and plopped himself down comfortably on his recliner.

"What's a 'Casey'?" he then replied nonchalantly, rolling the towel into a ball and chucking it carelessly behind him.

"Derek!" yelled a grumpy-looking George who had been accidentally hit by the damp cloth on the gut. He quickly mimicked what his son did to the water-soaked towel and threw it straight to hit his head.

"Ouch!" Derek yelped in pain, turning his head around to engage into a glaring battle with the older Venturi.

"Will the two of you please stop?" Nora reprimanded them both, wincing while holding her huge belly as if she was about to go into labor any time soon.

George gave Derek one last menacing scowl before facing her apologetically, rubbing her shoulders to calm the poor pregnant woman's stressed nerves. Derek merely sighed as he resumed his former position, letting his head fall backwards.

"... She's not anywhere. I didn't see her leave this morning and nobody else seems to know where she went."

"... Yes, I did call the public library, and the librarian said she didn't check out or return a book today."

"... No, she's not at Smelly Nellie's either."

Derek sat silently as the others carried on with their conversation, eyes glued to the dark screen of his phone and thumb lightly brushing against it. He didn't even bother picking up the remote from the coffee table and turning on the TV. Nor did he bother getting up to get food from the fridge (but that was usually Edwin or Marti's job anyway, and currently, they were at their mother's place for a last summer-visit). He just sat there with furrowed brows, mindlessly caught up in such a deep trance and not even a word or two escaping from his mouth.

"... Are you sure? Did you double-check?"

"... Not even Emily knows where she is."

"Derek, did you see Casey leave?"

"Derek?"

The three other people in the room were now staring at him somewhat suspiciously. They had finally realized that he had been sitting there almost motionlessly the entire time they were speaking. His uninterested demeanor over Casey's anything-except-her-pranked-shrieking they could understand and completely expect from him, but not if he just sat without even turning the TV on. And he loved to turn the TV on (and max the volume to as high as he could go without his dad screaming at him; although, sometimes, either by accident or willful action, he would go beyond that), especially when Casey's welfare ('Pft, she's just overreacting; Meh, she'll get over it... eventually; What? It was her fault') was being brought into a conversation.

"Derek!"

George patted his shoulder repeatedly until he finally showed signs of regaining awareness. He blinked his eyes and looked upward, meeting his father's pair of questioning eyes and raised eyebrows.

"What?" Derek casually responded, as if nothing unusual ever happened.

"Are you even listening?"

"Well, I'd love to tune in but your reception is a little hazy. What station are you on again?"

George pulled the headrest to bring the chair to a reclining position, "You better start answering properly or I will ground you until you leave for Kingston."

Derek rolled his eyes and sighed, "Fine. What were you saying?"

"Did you see Casey leave?"

"No."

"No?"

"No, okay? I didn't see her leave and I don't know where she is," Derek insisted, straightening his seat back to the original position, which didn't satisfy his dad but he didn't push the subject further.

"This is so unlike her. I'm really worried, George," Nora's voice croaked as anxiety began to consume her.

Deafening silence followed the trail of events. George was still beside Nora, holding her arm with one hand to support her weight and caressing her shoulders with the other to ease her worrying. Lizzie was rubbing her mother's back while lost in her own train of thoughts. No one dared to speak, hoping that in quietness they would successfully piece up such mystery involving a Casey-less room, or a Casey-less house altogether, early in the morning without a note of notice or a call of some sort. It was as odd as the untidy covers of her bed. She would never leave her sleeping space in a mess unless she was obsessing over an upcoming exam or extremely upset about something. But as far they knew, she had nothing to be frantic about. Her date went well; she looked sort of normal when she came home; and even though she had an upset stomach, she felt better and slept soundly. Well... right?

All of a sudden, Derek hurriedly rose from his recliner, rushed up the stairs, and disappeared into his bedroom, leaving the three slightly stunned and taken aback as they followed his steps with their eyes in unison. But not long after they looked at each other wonderingly and shook their heads at the same time, he re-emerged in a change of clothes and was seen hurrying down the steps, stopping by the coat rack to get his leather jacket, and heading towards the door.

"And where do you think you're going, young man?"

Derek froze in his spot for a split second before turning and facing the three, "Uh... Sam's?"

"Do you really have no concern for your stepsister? We're all worried sick here and you're leaving the house?" George responded in a raised and evidently annoyed tone.

"Look, there's really no need to be all worked-up about this. Casey's not a kid anymore, so you guys need to chill, okay? I'm sure she's fine. She probably just went out for a stroll. Who knows?"

And just as he finished the last sentence, Derek felt his phone vibrate from inside his pocket. Recovering from the slight shock it had induced on his body, he immediately took it out to check it. The room turned eerily quiet as his meeting eyebrows began to form a crease in his forehead. Apparently, whenever he wears this rarely seen 'serious look', they knew it was serious business. In fact, they could feel that something unusual was going on, they just didn't know what.

"There, she texted. See? She's fine," he quickly lifted his phone then slammed the door behind him.

No, she did not.

As a matter of fact, he wouldn't know if she had sent a message because, out of his anger last night, he deleted her number from his contacts list. And he wouldn't really waste his time staring at the phone and guessing who sent an anonymous text, right? (Even if he didn't really need to because he was all-too-familiar with her 'electronic voice' anyway?) Whatever. Delete. Delete. Delete.

No, but it was from someone else, someone whom he had forgotten to also vanquish from his list.

| Are you free tonight? - Em

It was the least four-words-dash-name he wanted to see flashing on his phone screen at that moment. It was annoying him and making him want to hurl, but since he got to use it to his advantage, he could at least tolerate it for a few seconds. For Nora's sake and to prevent the family from worrying any further, he thought lying was the most sensible thing to do. Well, lying was all that he could do. It wasn't the smoothest way to console them, but whatever, what does he know about that?

Here he was, currently situated inside the Prince, unsure of what he wanted to do. He wasn't really in the best of moods. In fact, he hadn't had a break yet from the internal turmoil that was screwing up his thoughts ever since last week. How he actually slept soundly last night was beyond him; he was too tired to care, too tired to analyze it. Everything just felt upside down to him – he hadn't eaten anything yet since the evening before, he actually took a bath before ruining someone's day (and before noon, mind you), and to top it all off, his "selective amnesia" trick failed in epic proportions. Why was it that when it comes to this Casey person, he could never get that to work. He actually thought he had it nailed this time when he washed off last night's stupidity in the shower. He thought he could wash Casey off of his head. Well, that was a waste of water!

But the truth of the matter is – he is Derek, and as sucky as it might be, there will always be a shadow of Casey behind him. She was like this annoying parasite that was eating his brain, like a dog tied to a leash that was super-glued to his hand. She was the reason for all the embarrassment he had ever had the mishap of being associate with his name, the stepsister he never really wanted. And he wanted to be mad at her, to blame her for everything, to hate her for coming into his life the way she did. He wanted to blame her for letting that pompous prick come between their already confusing 'situation', for not standing up for him at least, for making things extremely hard for him, for being the person that she is, for being Casey!

"Dammit!" He slammed his fist on the steering wheel before leaning his forehead against it and shutting his eyes tightly.

Damn it, because he could never really hate on her. As hard as it was to understand Casey sometimes, he could never not want to care. As much as he wanted to forget all of these things and even his feelings, he couldn't, because he loved her. He loved her still. He wanted her in whatever way she would come into form, in whatever way she would choose to come in his life. He wanted her, nevertheless. He wanted her anyway. Even if his pride got drenched in public humiliation; even if she chose to side with someone else other than him. Even if, even then. He really didn't know what would happen to this thing that they have anymore, but right now, he knew he had to do one thing - he had to find her. Of course, he was worried. Damn it, he was worried. And he probably would always be when it comes to her.

What the hell happened last night that made her so upset like that?

Where could she be?

Grabbing the phone that he had chucked earlier on the other seat in front, he began dialing the number that had been playing in his mind since he got out of bed.

Apparently, deleting it was as useless as Truman and Matthew's existence.

A/N: This is turning out to be a whole lot more dramatic than what I first intended for it to be. I also had a hard time making it flow, for some reason. Hope it's still okay! Let's hope some light-hearted fluff would emerge somewhere. Again, the story has completely deviated from the original Twitter plot, although it will still come to the same ending - which is Dasey, of course (heh).

I apologize to my pro-Emily, pro-Demily readers out there, but in this story, Emily is well... as you've read. This is to lightly touch on the situation (I believe) that happened to LifeWithCasey (Twitter Casey) when she confessed to Emily about her relationship with DerekVenturi (Twitter Derek). Needless to say, she was not pleased and I don't think they ever made up? So, I guess it still has some Twitter plot elements! Just... more twisted and emotional? LOL! And Matthew? Well, I hope that answers why he seemed "too-good-to-be-true". I didn't really intend for him to be this bad, but it just happened. Hahaha! For some reason, I really wanted to make the "incest" thing a big deal and not let our lovebirds be together without a fight. Because I'm sadistic like that (hah!). I left out a few more details about what was happening (backstory between Emily and Matthew and other stuff), but it'll be clear later on.

You might also ask, if Emily didn't want them together, why did she tell Derek where they were in the last chapter? Well, it's complicated. Hehe. We still have to dive into that brain of hers.

Also, I don't think fraternities or sororities exist at Queen's University (except for their med school frat), so let's just pretend they do; plus Derek and Casey also mentioned that at the end of "Futuritis", so let's go with reel life instead of real life. :P

What do you think will happen next? ;)

Many many many thanks to my readers and reviewers! I appreciate every single one of you!

Special TY shoutout to my previous reviewers: Dark-Supernatural-Angel, CrystalFlowers, Lightning Eterna, Gingiie666, Len Bon, ColorxMyxWorld, FallOutGrl02

Also thanks to my new sub-ers and fave-ers!

Please review! It makes us writers happ-aaaay! :)