Disclaimer: I own nothing.
OK. Here we go with the underlined text denoting Casey's skeptical inner voice. Her not-so-skeptical voice, as well as others' thoughts, are in regular italics.
Chapter Six: A Date?
Casey was sitting on the couch nervously fingering the business card in her hand. She had gone back and forth for a half an hour with herself about whether or not to call Derek and thank him for the flowers. She knew that was the right thing to do, she just didn't want to encourage his pursuit of her. Nice guy that he seemed to be (and cute too!), she just didn't want to get involved with anyone at the moment. Sighing, she muttered to herself before picking up the phone and dialing the number that Derek had scribbled on the back.
It rang a few times before he picked up. "Hello?"
Casey inadvertently shivered upon hearing his voice in her ear. "Uh hi. Is this Derek?" How stupid can you sound?
"That's me," he said amiably.
"Um, it's Casey. How are you?" she asked quickly, trying not to hyperventilate. Geez! It's not like you've never talked to a guy on the phone before!
"Casey!" His voice said warmly. "I was hoping you would call." On his end, Derek mentally slapped himself, not wanting to sound too eager.
"Yes, well, I wanted to thank you for the lovely flowers. You didn't have to do that," she said, picking at a loose thread on the couch.
Derek chuckled in her ear. "I know I didn't. I wanted to. I just wish I knew what your favorite flower is, but since I didn't, I just picked what was in season." No, that doesn't sound gay at all, he thought derisively.
Casey swallowed. Suddenly her throat was very dry. "Well, you did a great job." There was silence on the line and Casey felt her face flush even though she was alone in the apartment. "So . . . that's all I wanted to say, so I should let you go . . ."
"Wait!" his voice said quickly, making Casey jump a bit.
"Yes?" she asked hesitantly.
"Have you reconsidered my offer to take you to dinner?" he asked, his voice low.
Casey closed her eyes. She so didn't want to hurt his feelings, but she just couldn't deal with this right now. "Um, actually no, Derek. I'm sorry. There's just a lot going on in my life right now and I can't get involved with anyone. But I appreciate the offer." She didn't know what else to say, and a feeling of sadness swept over her.
"It's OK. I understand," he said in her ear softly.
Casey imagined him sitting there, his brow furrowed, maybe running his hand through his longish-hair. He really was a nice guy . . . what would be the harm in going for coffee or something? It's not like they would have to get married. She made up her mind and said, "Well, I could probably go for coffee or something. That is, if you would want to." She held her breath and waited for his reaction.
Derek struggled to appear nonchalant. "I can do coffee. When would be good for you?" He was hoping as soon as possible, as the need to see her was increasing every day.
He heard her take a breath before answering. "How about tomorrow? I don't have to work."
Derek noted that tomorrow was Sunday and smiled. That could definitely work. He would hang with the family for awhile in the early afternoon, and now that Kendra was no longer in the picture (unwillingly on her part), he had the whole rest of the day to spend with Casey . . . hopefully. "That sounds great. Where would you like to meet and what time?"
"How about the same place we went before?" Casey didn't want to mention what happened that night before they went to the coffee shop. She was still dealing with the aftereffects of that.
"Sounds good. What time?" Derek repeated, getting more excited by the minute.
"Um, how about three o'clock? Does that work for you?" she asked, worrying her lower lip between her teeth and already second-guessing her decision to meet him.
"I'll be there," he said, and the tone of his voice made her skin tingle.
They hung up and Casey flopped back on the couch and blew out a breath. What had she gotten herself into?
Derek hung up the phone and jumped up to do a happy dance. "I'm gonna seeee her, I'm gonna seeee her," he sang to himself as he did the cabbage patch.
His sister Marti chose that moment to walk by his open bedroom door. She stopped abruptly and gaped. "Uh, Derek? Why are you dancing by yourself?"
He whipped around and felt his face burn. Thinking quickly, he said, "Marti, Marti, Marti. Someone as cool as me has to keep his dance moves up to date."
Marti surprised him by laughing out loud. "Yeah, Derek, that's why you're doing a dance from like 10 years ago!" she choked out between giggles.
He scowled. "Whatever. Don't you have something to do?" he asked, crossing his arms defiantly.
She straightened up from bending over laughing. "Yeah, yeah. I'm heading to Dimi's. We're going to the movies," she said with a dreamy look in her eyes.
Derek's eyebrows rose. "The movies? You're not going alone, are you?" he was thinking of the two of them in the dark movie theatre, alone, with no one to supervise them. That was not good.
She rolled her eyes at him. "No, we're not going alone. A whole bunch of people are going. It's like a group date," she said waving her hand in the air.
Derek bit his lip and nodded. "Oh, well I guess that's OK."
Marti quirked an eyebrow at him. "Derek, I don't need your permission to go out. You're not my father, remember?"
He pursed his lips in annoyance. How come she couldn't see that he was doing nothing but looking out for her? "I know, I know. Geez, so sue me for being a concerned big brother why don't ya." He said before turning away from her and shuffling things around on his desk. The fact that she was growing up was not sitting well with Derek.
He heard her sigh dramatically. A moment later, he jumped when he felt her arms wrap around his waist from behind. "Oh, Smerek," she said, lapsing into her childhood nickname for him, "I know you're just looking out for me. And I appreciate it, really I do. It's just that sometimes you go overboard, is all," she finished, laying her head against his back.
He let out a breath and turned in her arms, his own coming up around her. He laid his head on top of hers and inhaled her shampoo, which was some fruity concoction. He moved and pressed a kiss on the part of her hair. "Marti, I just want the best for you. I'm sorry if I'm cramping your style. I just can't help myself. Forgive me?" he asked, lifting his head and moving back so she could see him giving her his best "puppy dog" face.
She breathed deeply and rolled her eyes. "God, Derek, you know I can never resist that face. Just back off a little, OK?"
Derek nodded his head. "Will do, sis." He paused a moment before asking jokingly, "Are you sure you don't need a chaperone for the movies?" before ducking out of the way of her hand, which was aiming for his head. He laughed and ran past her, with her chasing him down the stairs.
Downstairs they encountered their father, who was flitting around the kitchen, no doubt whipping up one of his "masterpieces" which usually wasn't a masterpiece at all. Usually it was a piece – of crap. "Hey dad, I'm heading out to the movies, I'll be back in a couple of hours," Marti said, grabbing her coat from the rack.
Their father, George, turned and looked at his daughter. "Will you be home for dinner? I'm making something special," he said in a singsong voice.
Marti looked at the watch on her wrist. "Uh, I think so. Although I don't know how hungry I'll be after filling up on popcorn and candy."
George snorted. "Well, that's easy. Don't fill up on popcorn and candy," he said with an air of finality.
Marti muttered something before heading out the door, leaving Derek and George alone in the kitchen. Derek sat on a stool and silently watched his father search through the pantry and take out what looked like all the spices they had. He then proceeded to add the spices to a big pot that was boiling on the stove. Derek gulped, wondering what his father was cooking up. He idly wondered if he should take some Pepto Bismol before he ate. "So Derek," his father's voice shook him out of his thoughts, "how are things?"
Derek watched as his father stirred in what looked like dirt into the pot. He shuddered before answering. "Pretty good. You?"
George's shoulders shrugged. "Same. Work is pretty crazy, but other than that, it's been pretty quiet."
Derek nodded silently. "Pretty quiet" meant that there had been no word from his mother – George's wife – since she left them four months ago. His parents' marriage had been on the rocks for years – ever since that night. Things finally came to a head and she had packed her clothes and said she needed time to work things out. That was basically the last they had heard from her, other than a few phone calls to the kids. Derek, Marti and their brother Edwin had been confused, to say the least, and didn't understand why their mother had to totally disappear from their lives too. They understood that their parents needed some time apart – they actually thought it was a good thing for them to separate, seeing as all they did was fight when they were together anyway. But Derek knew what his younger siblings didn't – that their mother was having a hard time dealing with what had happened to her, and she was pushing her husband and kids away in the meantime. Derek didn't know when he would see his mother again, and frankly, the hurt of her leaving had lessened, and had given way to concern for her welfare. She was out there, all alone, living god-knows-where, without her family to help take care of her. Derek only hoped that she was safe.
He whipped his head up at his father's voice. "Derek? You OK?" his father asked while holding a spatula in one hand and a cucumber in the other.
Derek fought the urge to laugh. Since his wife left, George had jumped into her role of being the main cook – often just opening the refrigerator and throwing odds and ends into a pot and cooking everything into some sort of soup from hell. He was also fond of casseroles – anything that he could just throw together and call a meal. Unfortunately, that led to many nights of heartburn for Derek and he wasn't sure how much more his stomach could take. God forbid, he might have to start cooking himself! His eyes moved up and he noticed that his father was waiting for a response. "What?"
"I asked if you were OK. You looked kind of spaced out there for a minute."
Derek shook his head. "Nah, just a bit tired is all."
George nodded and turned around to stir his hellish-smelling creation. "How's work going for ya?"
Derek picked at a piece of food that was crusted on the island. "It's going well. I told you that they said I would have a job after my internship is over, right?"
His dad nodded. "Yeah, you did. That's great news, Derek. I'm proud of you, son," he said, turning and throwing a smile at him.
Derek smiled back. "Thanks Dad. I appreciate it."
They chatted for awhile longer until the conversation petered out and Derek rose to leave. "How much longer until dinner is ready?" he asked, dreading it.
"Uh, I'm thinking about an hour or so. I have to make sure these veggies get cooked all the way through," his father said while stirring.
"What is it exactly that you're making?" Derek hated to ask.
"It's called George Venturi's Awesome Vegetable Soup," he said, looking proud of himself. "I put some extra ingredients in it, you know, to personalize it."
"Aha," Derek said, moving back and fighting the urge to run for his life. "Well, I can hardly wait to taste it," he said, trying not to sound sarcastic. "I'll be in my room if you need me," he said before heading up the stairs.
"OK!" his father yelled before Derek heard a small crash. "Dammit!" George swore, making Derek fearful. He didn't ask what happened before heading into his room and shutting the door. He had all day and night to mull over tomorrow's meeting with Casey, and his pulse sped up with just the thought of her. I have it bad, he thought with a small smile on his face as he laid back on his bed and stared at the ceiling. Real bad.
Meanwhile, Casey was at home cleaning when Lizzie came back from hanging at her friend's house. "Hey Liz, how's Sarah doing?" she asked while dusting the TV.
"She's fine," Liz answered vaguely before heading back to the bedroom. This gave Casey reason to pause, but she quickly pushed the thought away, too caught up in her own mind.
Later that night, Casey was up watching a movie on TV when Steph came stumbling in with a guy in tow. She stopped when she spotted Casey sitting on the couch. "Oh hi, Case. I didn't know you'd still be up," she said, tottering on her high heels.
Casey fought the urge to smirk. "I couldn't sleep, but if you need me to leave, I will." She really didn't want to, Lizzie was already in the bedroom sleeping, and Casey didn't want to risk waking her up by turning the light on so she could read or something. All she knew was that she was wide awake for some reason. Some reason, right. You know why you're awake! You're thinking about the date with Derek tomorrow! Am not! Are too! Whatever, I just slept in too late this morning, that's all. You just keep telling yourself that, missy.
"Uh, Case?" Steph said, causing Casey to shift her eyes back to her roommate.
"Yeah?" she asked a bit snarkily, making Steph's eyes narrow slightly.
"I asked if it was OK to give us some privacy," Steph said, seemingly not affected by her "date's" arms around her from behind, his hands squeezing her tits.
Casey looked away. "Uh no. Suddenly I'm really tired," she said before hastily getting up and moving to the bedroom.
By the time she was in bed, she could already hear the telltale sounds of sex coming from the living room. Casey wondered how much the guy was paying for it before she turned over and put the pillow over her head to drown out the noise.
An hour later, Casey still couldn't sleep. She turned over again and stared at the ceiling, seeing designs that she knew weren't really there. Sighing, she sat up in bed and glanced over at Lizzie, who was sound asleep, her breathing deep and even. Casey softly got out of bed and went to the door, pressing her ear against it and listening for anything from the other side. Hearing nothing, she cracked the door open and peeked out. Slowly, she exited the bedroom and headed down the hallway. She faltered when she glimpsed the top of Steph's head against the back of the couch, but upon closer inspection, Casey determined that she was alone and continued out into the living room.
Rounding the couch, she found Steph sprawled out, her company obviously no longer in the apartment. Steph's eyes were closed and Casey moved forward and grabbed the remote, turning the TV down a bit and flipping through the channels trying to find something decent to watch at that late hour.
Hearing the TV change, Steph opened her eyes and straightened herself out. "Hey Case," she said sleepily, rubbing her eyes.
"Hey," Casey answered, not taking her eyes off the screen. "I'm sorry if I woke you." She wasn't really, but she knew it was what she should say.
"That's OK. I needed to wake up anyway. I still have my work clothes on," Steph said, motioning to herself. Tonight, her outfit consisted of tight black leggings and a super-tight white sweater, which looked like it was on inside out. As usual, her face was heavily covered with make up and her hair was so teased it looked like a rat's nest. Casey had no idea how she combed that out enough to wash it. She didn't want to know, actually.
"Do you mind if I stay up for awhile? I can't get to sleep for some reason," Casey said, hoping that tonight would be the night when Steph wasn't a total bitch.
Steph stretched catlike, her mouth open wide in a yawn. "No, that's OK. I'm really not ready to go to sleep anyway."
Casey nodded but said nothing, focusing on the movie, which had Clint Eastwood in it. He was shooting some people, but then again, didn't he do that in all his movies?
"Case, have you thought any more about coming out with me again?" Steph asked as she ripped her sweater over her head, leaving only a skimpy lace bra underneath.
Casey averted her eyes. "Uh, not really. Why?"
Steph shrugged. "Well, I just think you didn't give it a chance. I mean, only going out once, well, you need more than that to make up your mind, don't ya think?" she asked, now pulling off her leggings. She wasn't wearing underwear and Casey wished she were a little more modest. Casey didn't need to see that.
"I don't think I have what it takes to be out there doing what you do," Casey said, her eyes not meeting her roommate's.
Steph pulled on a pair of sweatpants – still no underwear – and sat down next to Casey. "Case, if you want I can stroll with ya, you know, until you feel more comfortable."
Casey thought about that. Her "strolling" was what got her into trouble a few weeks before. If it wasn't for Derek, well, she didn't know what would have happened. She rubbed her face with her hand. "I have to think about it, Steph. I mean, I'm keeping up OK with bills right now, so I don't think I have to do that."
Steph nodded. "Well, just let me know, Case. You don't have to hook up with a handler. You can do freelance, therefore keeping everything you earn instead of having to share. I know you'd do great," she said, moving to the bathroom, no doubt to scrub her face clean of all the warpaint.
Casey sat there thinking about Steph's words. At one time she was so desperate for cash that she had actually considered her offer. And look how that turned out. No, she wasn't going to go that route again if she could help it. She just hoped that she could continue to get enough hours at all her jobs to keep her and Lizzie from living on the street.
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