Author's Note: Surprise chick-a-dees! I'm sorry this has taken so long to update :o( My sincerest apologies. I've been in such a major writer's block; I lost my spark for this story, actually. So, I'm going on a whim here, nothing's planned. Going with the flow, hope you still enjoy :o)

BYTHEWAY; Check out my new account: .net/~jetaimemoncheri

- no content yet, but check back for future references. And, without further adieu, capitulo quince!

Because They Said So – Chapter 15

skirtchasingcad: Mrs. Kurkowitz is right behind you.

missmickydees: Shut up, no she isn't. God, can your screen name get any more pathetic?

skirtchasingcad: Can your face get any uglier?

missmickydees: Can your IQ get any lower?

skirtchasingcad: Can your shirt be any tighter…

missmickydees: ???

skirtchasingcad: Don Hash keeps looking at your chest.

skirtchasingcad: Oh, God. Don't look, mo mo! You're about as subtle as that volcano on your chin.

skirtchasingcad: Hee hee.

missmickydees: Ingrate. I'm leaving.

skirtchasingcad: No!! I need your help on the assignment.

missmickydees: You're not actually doing the assignment…

skirtchasingcad: Ah, but I am.

missmickydees: Yeah, and I'm Jesus.

skirtchasingcad: Don't smite me.

missmickydees: Can you get any more retarded?

skirtchasingcad: Careful, Princess. Don't take your frustration out on the keyboard, now. People are starting to stare.

skirtchasingcad: Tuck Quinn asked me if you're on speed.

skirtchasingcad: Teeeeehee!

missmickydees: ASFD;HSV!

skirtchasingcad: No hablo freak.

missmickydees: Translation: I hate you.

skirtchasingcad: No, you don't.

missmickydees: No, I don't.

missmickydees has logged off.

--

"OW!" Derek cried out, along with a stream of curses. "Is shoving a guy off you a sign of affection?" He rubbed the back of his head from where it collided with the front door frame. "That explains the inexperience of kissing that is Casey McDonald…"

"Shut up!" She whisper-demanded.

"What is your prob-"

"What're you guys doing out here…?"

The two snapped their heads toward the five-person crowd gathering at the front steps.

"Did you guys get locked out?" Nora asked, reaching the front door and sticking her key into the lock.

"Casey didn't bring her keys," Derek explained, letting himself into the house.

"Derek didn't bring his brain," Casey snapped sourly, brushing past Lizzie and Edwin to retrieve her bags and (thanks, Derek) scattered items from her purse.

"Where were you guys, anyway?" Edwin asked, closing the door after Casey got in.

"Sale at JCrew," Derek explained, his pitch feigning excitement. "I totally had to get a matching tank for my new baby-blue-hip-hugger-booty-shorts."

Lizzie and Edwin laughed.

Casey rolled her eyes, ignoring his pathetic excuse of an answer, and asked, "Where were you guys?"

"We went to the farmer's market downtown," Nora said, holding up two recycled slash organic paper bags. "Mind helping me with dinner?"

"'Course not," she said, starting up the stairs. "Let me just put all this away."

It wasn't until she jogged up to her room, stuck the shopping bags in the closet and tied up her hair for dinner, that Casey realized her lips were still burning. She looked in the mirror and was completely taken aback.

Her lip gloss had been smeared several places (above her upper lip, the left corner of her mouth and, remarkably, the bridge in between her eyes), her lips were slightly chapped and, thank God, unconspicuously, swollen, and her shirt had been uneven, the back of it somehow tucked behind her bra.

Jee-zus.

"Well, this is a far step out of Casey McDonald's boundaries."

Casey didn't look up at Derek, who was leaning against her door frame, but instead centralized on the trampy mess in front of her. She didn't speak as she applied a tube of chapstick and used a tissue to get the icky goo off of her face.

"We're not going to talk about this, are we?" She asked finally, readjusting her shirt so she looked somewhat like a human-being. She did a three-sixty and made sure everything looked, though they were certainly not, normal.

"I'd rather not."

She nodded tersely. Of course.

He stepped into her room and her breath hitched up in her throat. She made extra care to make this unnoticeable. She picked at her eyelash nonchalantly.

He chuckled. "Are you trying to not look nervous?"

"Yes. I mean, no! No, because I'm not nervous."

"So," he said, stepping closer. "I don't make you nervous."

She gave a pathetic snort, "Baby kittens make me more nervous than you ever could."

"Hmp," he made a sound in the back of his throat, contemplating this.

He kept walking until he was close to her. So close, she could feel the warmth radiating from his body. Chest to chest.

"So this," he reached up and slowly brushed a couple of strands of hair out of her face. His voice was almost inaudible, "doesn't make you nervous?"

She looked up at him, studied him. The way his brown hair, tinted with flecks of red in the sunlight, fell over his forehead and barely over his chestnut brown eyes. The way his eyelashes were perfected to an upwards curl. Damn boys and their unnaturally long, tantalizing lashes.

Casey exhaled through her mouth, the sound shaky and unsteady. She mustered up all the brain waves she could and demanded them to tell her muscles to shake her head, slowly.

"Hmp," he said again. He leaned close, damn him. "Better get started on that dinner, then. Time's a-wastin'."

He patted her cheek teasingly, and before she could process what just happened and come up with a response, he was out of the room.

Damn that Derek Venturi. Damn him to the lowest pits of Hell.

--

"So…," Emily said for the umpteenth time, leaning against the locker next to Casey's.

"Anything I can help you with, Em?"

"How was your 'date' with Derek?" She asked curiously, with a hint of mock.

"It wasn't…-," she stopped herself. Then added, "terrible. It was alright, we had fun."

Emily pouted. Hee haw.

"In fact," Casey said, slowly. If she wanted to win the stupid bet already, she was going to milk it, damn it! "I look forward to doing it again real soon."

Emily's eyebrows furrowed and she grumbled something incoherent. Casey made note to tell Derek of their glorious victory later.

Or, apparently, sooner than.

"Morning, ladies," Sam smiled quirkily.

"Kurkowitz told me she pulled up our entire conversation from second period," Derek said, coming up behind Casey.

"Yeah, yeah, bull," she giggled.

"Let's go," Sam said, slinging his arm around Emily and turning to walk out to the parking lot.

"Hey, uh, Casey."

They all turned.

"Hey Cam," Casey smiled at Cameron Fisher, captain of the Varsity basketball team. Every girl's second-to-Derek-Venturi dream; blonde hair, nice tan, rippling arms, white-as-can-be slash straight-as-possible smile, all packed with the too-close resemblance to Kellan Lutz. He was yummy.

"So, look," he said, taking her by the arm gently and walking her a little farther away from her bewildered group. "I was wondering if, maybe, you'd like to, um –" He rubbed the back of his neck in a cute nervous way " – go out with – go on a date with me. Tomorrow night?" His emerald green eyes looked beseeching.

"Oh, Cam," she said, softly.

She looked behind her as briefly as she could. Emily and Sam looked bemused, with a slight hint of something good they seemed to think might happen. Derek looked…

His jaw was set, she could tell by the dimples in his cheeks. He was gripping the handle of his backpack so tightly that his knuckles were starting to turn white. He was peeved, peeved, peeved.

For some reason, she found this completely amusing.

Swallowing a giggle, she turned back to Cam. "Cam, I'd love to go out with you."

His eyes lit up and his lips parted into a toothy smile.

"… but," she said, making her tone as soft as butter as she could. "I don't think I can."

Cam's eyes darkened a bit, and his mouth formed a straight line. "You got something else going on, or…?"

"No," she shook her head. "I just don't want to get my egotistical, take-everything-up-the-butt, stubborn-as-hell boyfriend into another fight. I'm really sorry."

She smiled apologetically, and gave him an affectionate caress on his arm. She turned on her heel and stalked toward her group.

"Mind telling me what the hell that was about?" Derek whispered, his tone tense, as they started walking. She chuckled.

"Don't worry about it, hard head."

--

Author's Note: I'm uberly, terribly sorry if that was short (and unbelievably CRAPPY). It does NOT make up for my lack of updates, but I think it's safe to say that I'm pretty much out of this damned writer's block! Feedback is never mandatory, but always appreciated as are IDEAS! PLEASE, I need all the help I can get! Heehee, hope ya'll enjoyed!