Derek was suspicious. And when Derek was suspicious, he found a way to answer those suspicions. In this case, finding where Alan Wright lived and giving the guy a surprise visit seemed like a good idea. However, finding those living premises would be complicated; after the trial, the Wrights had moved to a discreet location, and had done a damn good job hiding it from the press.
And he couldn't just go around asking for the kid's address. Being popular was hard!
"You're pouting." Amy pointed out, an inkling of what sounded like amusement in her voice.
"Why are you talking to me?" Derek asked sourly, opening his locker. The picture of Marti had fallen to the floor; he picked it up and pressed it to the door.
"I'm talking to you because you're pouting."
"News flash—we broke up."
Amy raised a brow, a coy smile growing across her face. "Maybe I want to change that."
Derek debated between telling to leave or accepting her proposition. One look at the skirt she was wearing cinched his decision. A smirk grew across his face.
"Seven?"
"Movie at my place?"
Derek's smirk grew more. "Sounds like a date."
Amy winked at him, giving him a peck on his cheek (and pressing her chest against his, making him realize that going on a date with even the most superficial of all girls had its perks).
The day passed by slowly after that encounter though, because without girls to distract him, Alan was on his mind.
He had made an odd exit, and there had been something wrong with his eyes—his whole expression, really—when Derek had visited him that morning.
When lunch rolled around, his friends and even his food didn't interest him as it should have. Amy had to call out his name three times to snap him out of his reverie.
She never said his name the way Casey did, she said it in one syllable, sharp and intrusive. He found it grating, and barely managed to hide his annoyance.
He wondered when the way Casey said his name became endearing, because he sure as hell didn't think so when he first met her. Did he?
Even Sam and Ralph gave up having a conversation with him. Because of these reasons, lunch was quiet and intense. The whole day was intense.
The only time Derek had a break from his thoughts of Alan, the cell phone, and pranks, was when Casey came home.
God bless her! Derek thought in relief as she drew out his name heatedly.
She was throwing a hissy fit because he'd forgotten to wait for her after school. He responded, with a smirk, that he hadn't forgotten, he'd just had better things to do.
Which was a lie, of course.
"Better things to do, huh? Like Amy?" she sauntered up to him, fire in her eyes.
He doubts she ever walks up to Max looking like that.
With that proclamation, she left Derek downstairs slack jawed…and honestly, a little turned on.
Still, he had other things to do. He didn't have time to analyze how wrong it was to find Casey even the slightest bit attractive.
George got home just as he was leaving. "Where are you going?" George demanded, merely because it was the fatherly thing to do; Derek knew he really didn't care as long the girl wasn't pregnant and he and the car got home in one piece—especially the car.
"Date. See ya."
The date with Amy went as well as expected. They had started making out ten minutes into the film, and progressed from there.
He discovered that Amy wasn't a screamer, which was somewhat boring. She squirmed and panted beneath him, but not a sound escaped her lips.
He also discovered that she was a biter; she bit down on his shoulders so hard he was convinced there'd be scars.
Amy was also not a romantic. When they were done she did not insist that they cuddle; she simply redressed herself and stared him in the eyes for a moment after she had done so.
He wondered what she had been searching for, but also couldn't muster up the care to ask.
Derek stared at the screen for a moment, midway into some Lifetime film on mute.
This was awkward. After-sex was always awkward. It was after sex that he discovered how much he really didn't like the girl he'd just been fucking, and it was after sex that he felt ashamed of it.
But not ashamed enough to stop.
Amy looked at her watch, an expensive export from Germany (she'd told him that, after she caught him staring at it) and swore under her breath.
"Hey, you should probably go, my parents will be home soon."
When she walked him to the door, they exchanged stares, both realizing that this probably wasn't happening again.
He leaned in to kiss her, and she kissed him back. He felt nothing. No shivers up his spine, no stomach flips. Nothing.
Not like Casey.
She looked at him a final time, smiled a sad little smile, because Derek could be sweet when he wanted, but it was obvious they didn't click, even if part of her wanted them to.
"Goodnight, Derek."
He gave her a nod in response as he opened the door, and they parted ways.
The drive home was lonely, as nights like these always had a sense of loneliness to them. He tossed the condom in the neighbor's trash, and parked the car, sighing before heading to the door.
When he entered the house, Casey's humming greeted him.
"And I love what you do, don't you know you're toxic?"
Derek held back a laugh. Britney Spears? The ranting feminist listened to Britney Spears?
"It's getting late…"
She trailed off as Derek's smug smile grew upon his face.
"Little bit of a hypocrite, are we?" he mocked.
"Shut up," she snapped. "Besides, we all know what you use Britney Spears for."
"And what might that be, Princess?"
She turned red. Instead of answering, she screwed the cap onto the peanut butter jar in which she had been dipping her finger in (hardly sanitary, Derek noted) and put it on the shelf.
She walked past him with a pretentious air around her, not even wishing him a good night.