Should probably post slower to keep everyone on their toes, but I've literally had this written for months, and I just want to get it out there. I'll probably post Chapter 3 later today after I edit and stuff. The story builds a little more in the next one, promise. Enjoy!
The first week of University was a breeze, really. She honestly expected way more out of it. It was exactly like high school, except everyone was a lot smarter, and slightly more mature. There were cliques that she could see. There were the sporty people, who were usually hockey, football, swim team, cheerleaders, soccer buffs, weight lifters, and runners all sat at these large picnic tables near the school garden, a little past the main quad. It was a good place if they ever wanted to throw a football or kick around a hacky sack. There were the smarter (or keen) people who just stayed in the main computer lab and talked logics and other things most people wouldn't understand. Casey surprisingly wasn't found with that group of people.
Casey had made friends quite quickly, actually. It even surprised Derek, who'd made plenty of friends from the hockey team on his first day at freshman orientation. They were all surprised by his amazing stamina, which he told Casey later that the reason it was so great was because he was always trying to run away from her. She only scrunched up her nose and replied with a "De-rek!"
She'd made friends with a couple of girls, Molly and Whitney. Of course, it was still the first week, so she really couldn't tell much about them, other than they were very kind to her. They were freshmen as well, and she found them in her Sociology 1301 class. Molly was a shorter redhead with so much energy, Casey had to squint her eyes to keep up with her silly hand gestures that she was unaware she did while she was in the midst of a story. Whitney was very calm and had long dark wavy hair and the darkest brown eyes she'd ever seen in her life. Whit had mostly been quiet, but had the most amazing sense of humor she'd ever seen on another girl. Casey felt very confident with these two girls by her side.
By week two, she still hadn't felt much pressure, but after receiving a syllabus for each course, she decided to make study charts for herself, and color code them. She loved organizing things like this. Not only did it give her something productive to do, she just loved having the ability to plan it out ahead of time.
Casey bit her lip, and got a great idea. Derek was away at practice, so the apartment was pretty much hers alone. She walked to the small kitchen, where she knew his schedule and syllabi would be on the fridge, and snagged them, making a mad dash back towards her room as if he'd walk in at any second and see her get it. In reality, he wouldn't be back home for another two hours, and she knew that.
Casey made him a more manly (green, as opposed to her pink) chart. She penciled in each of his hockey practices and games (which she found out from a pamphlet somebody gave her at school with the team's game schedules). It was very easy making his schedule, actually. She knew his work schedule, which he had penciled at the bottom of his school one. He had Saturday nights free, and the occasional Friday where he got lucky without a game. She smiled at her progress, and wrote DEREK on the top of it in dark bold letters.
She looked between hers and Derek's schedules, and ironically enough, they had the same days free. Their time on other days of the week, however, were a different story altogether. Judging from the times their classes started and ended, their work schedules, and his hockey schedule, she would only see him for five minutes a night if they were lucky. It made her somewhat sad that she wouldn't see him so much, but then again, it wasn't as bad as it would be had they not come to the same university.
She shrugged, and trudged back to the kitchen to put his regular schedules and syllabuses back on the fridge. It was then that she heard keys jiggling the doorknob. She smiled, and put his poster-sized schedule under her arm.
Derek walked in lazily and threw his equipment next to the door, and eyed her suspiciously. He wore just a white t-shirt and navy blue basketball shorts. His sneakers weren't even tied, and he held his backpack with one hand. He look beat, to be honest. His hair was going in every other direction, in and almost comical way. He closed the door behind himself and walked her way.
"What are you up to, woman? Did you make me dinner?" he cocked an eyebrow up, and pushed past her to go to the kitchen and find his food already plated on the counter covered with foil. He grinned, grabbing the plate and a coke from the refrigerator.
"I made you something!" she beamed at him and sat across the island on her own stool across from him. He eyed her from across the island and kept his eyebrow cocked up at her.
"Oh really? Made me something other than this mediocre dinner?" he teased her. The food was delicious and they both knew he couldn't lie about the taste to save his life.
"De-rek!" she shrieked, and threw a napkin at him. "I could always stop making you food and have you fend for yourself, you idiot!"
"Alright, don't get those granny panties in a bunch and come out and tell me what you made me." He rolled his eyes, and waited for her. Her smile had returned, and she reached under her arm to fling out his schedule.
He looked it over, squinted his eyes, and stopped chewing. He didn't look happy, and she could see that right away. She knew she'd made a mistake already.
"Why did you do this?" he looked up at her angrily. She suddenly felt vulnerable under his glare. She bit her lip, and tried to smile.
"Well…I was already making my schedule…and I thought it'd be fun to do yours as well…" she trailed off.
"You mean to control me as well?" he snapped. He stood up, and slid the chart to the floor.
"What are you talking about, Derek? I was trying to do something nice for you!" She stood up, too.
"Casey, just because you write down what I already know is my schedule, doesn't mean you've done something nice. I'm not one of your little pet boyfriends that you could just control everything I do." His voice was rising. She just growled, bending down to pick it up.
"It was just a gesture, the least you could do is thank me!" she yelled at him.
"Well thanks, Casey! Thanks for constantly trying to run my life and go through the trouble of actually penciling in every damn thing I have to do every day!"
"I don't have any idea what your problem is, Derek Venturi, but you better calm down! If you don't want the schedule, just say so!" she yelled at him.
"I don't want the damn schedule! And if you really want to know what my problem is, it's you!" he yelled, pushing in his stool, and staring her down, his nostrils flared out. He grabbed his plate.
"I honestly don't know what I've done to you, but I'm sorry!" she yelled angrily at him.
"Just forget it!" he yelled, and threw his practically full plate into the sink, shattering the glass. He turned around and stormed to his room.
Casey stood there, glad that he walked out because the tears started streaming down her face. What was that even about? She thought it was kind of cute that she'd gone through this trouble for him. It was harmless, really. Just because she'd made it didn't mean he had to follow it. He didn't need to react the way he did.
They'd fought countless times before, but not to the point where he actually got angry and left the room the way he'd done. As of lately, it was just a playful banter, but what just happened was beyond her and she didn't know how to react.
Wiping at her tears that freely fell down her face; she walked to the sink, reaching over the cabinet to get a small plastic bag. She slowly and carefully picked up the broken glass from inside the sink. The food was doomed for the trash can, it having shards of glass in it already.
Casey tried her best not to sob, but her breaths came out shaky, and she sniffed loudly as she tried to control the sobs building up in her chest.
She let out a squeal, feeling a piece of glass break the skin on the tips of her pointer finger and thumb. Her lip only pouted, and she ran the water over it.
"Dammit, Casey." She jumped, hearing his voice. She looked over to him, scared he'd explode again. "I can't even stay mad at you or you'll just hurt yourself." He tried to joke through angry eyes. He reached over and finished picking up the glass from the sink. She wiped frantically at her eyes and walked out of the kitchen quickly, trying to avoid talking to him for the rest of the night.
Derek stood there after she left. He didn't mean to explode at her, really. He actually quite liked that she'd gone through the trouble of making him a schedule chart thing. It was even a little endearing that she was so excited to show him she'd made it for him.
Practice was just hell on him today. It had nothing to do with his teammates, either. He was just worn out, and that brought out his grumpy side. It made him more angry that it was Casey he'd pulled his frustration out on. Derek slowly walked to the hallway, and eyed her door. Her light was still on, so she was definitely still awake. He hesitantly walked to her door, and knocked softly. He heard her intake of breath.
"Yeah?" it was a soft reply, but he heard the pain behind it.
"Case…can I come in?"
"I'm already heading to bed, Derek. You should do the same." Her voice was hard. He didn't give up, of course. He was Derek, for crying out loud. It didn't surprise Casey when he walked into her room anyways.
She just sighed, and rolled her puffy red eyes. He walked over to the foot of her bed, and sat down.
"Look, I'm sorry I was an ass, it wasn't because of you." He sighed, laying back and running his hands over his face.
"Oh?"
"Yeah, it's just that practice was a living hell today, and the guys are getting rougher on me, and I guess I was just used to being one of the stronger ones on the team, but I'm not. So I have to work a lot harder, and that's weird for me." He told her.
Casey was slightly taken aback. He'd never shared his feelings to anybody but Marti. She didn't even know what to say. The fact that he even wanted to explain himself brought her right out of her own raunchy mood after the fight. She'd suddenly forgotten why she was even crying.
"Derek…don't…don't worry about it." She sighed suddenly, and looked over at him still lying on his back at the foot of the bed.
"That's it? You're not gonna give me the cold shoulder for the next four years?" he eyed her from his place.
"I mean, if you want me to, I will." She teased, nudging him with her foot. He laughed, and sat up.
"I guess if it's that easy to have you forgive me, I should make you mad more often!"
"De-rek!" she screeched. Music to his ears.
"I'm just joshing you, Case. But really, I'm sorry." He placed his hand on her ankle, and looked into her eyes. "It honesty won't happen again."
She shivered lightly, but he didn't notice.
"It better not." She sighed. "You really scared me for a second there." She fiddled with her fingers, which Derek had just noticed were bandaged.
"It won't…I'm sorry that you hurt yourself."
"Eh, it's really nothing." She smiled lightly. Derek sighed and shook his head. Typical Casey to just try to please him by making it seem like she wasn't bothered.
"I'll make it up to you. I'll cut it down to three pranks a week, and it won't have anything to do with your shower time hygienic products." He smiled. She threw her head back and groaned.
"There's no escaping your pranks." She let a smile creep up on her lips. He grinned, and stood up.
"You know it keeps things lively." He winked at her. He walked to the doorway, and leaned against it. "So, we're good?"
She sighed, and leaned her head against her headboard, looking him over. She closed her eyes, and nodded softly. "Of course." It was a whisper.
"Well, goodnight, Case." He lightly patted the doorway.
"Night, Der." She smiled softly at him. Derek only smiled back, and walked over to the kitchen, making sure everything was cleaned up, cursing himself for throwing his food in the sink as his hunger was taking over every feeling in his body.
He opened the fridge and grabbed everything he needed for a sandwich. He needn't go into detail of what he put into it, because he ate it so fast, he'd forgotten it was even a sandwich he was eating to begin with.
Too lazy to get up from his stool once again, he looked around the small kitchen of their apartment. Of course it was decorated to Casey's taste, mostly lavender colors (dish rags, towels to dry dishes, and the little dress she liked to put on her soap bottle). Even the dishes had their own lavender tone to them. Everything was neatly arranged from the dishes and food in the cabinets and refrigerator, to the jars on the counter that were arranged from largest to smallest.
His eyes fell on one final item that lay on the island top where he was sitting. The chart schedule she'd made him. Everything was written so neatly and with care. Even his name had its own neatness to it thanks to Case, and he honestly appreciated the time that she put into it for him.
He just grabbed the large poster and walked over to his room lazily. He looked around the walls, looking for an empty space to put it, looking between every poster he had in his room, and found the perfect place on the wall right across from his bed, and pinned it easily. He stood back and looked at it, ending the night with a smile on his face.