Okay, so unbelievably, I wrote this chapter in the better part of three days. Pretty much. The beginning up to the part where Casey shoves Lizzie into the bathroom (save the first paragraph) was one day. The part from right after that to the part where Casey says "it gets worse still". And then that part after to the end. So basically a three-day Odyssey. Whoo. Anyways, this chapter's sort of eclectic. I finally saw the episode where Casey's dad comes to dinner and the Battle of the Bands one... So, yeah. When I refer to "Uncle Dennis", that's kind of what that's all about. He just wasn't her dad. He was her dad's brother. Who Nora sort of had a thing with... Anyways. He was like a dad to them. Now, really, that's just a very minimal part of the chapter, but I figured I ought to explain that.
This chapter was actually really exiting to write, which is saying something, since it's a Casey chapter... But you get to see a little bit of Casey's dark side starting in this chapter. You start to see the emergence of some rather disturbing mania in Casey's head. Oh, and this chapter contains some disturbing sexual insinuations... And I don't mean something Derek says, because he doesn't hit on Casey in this chapter. It's just... not something I've done before, so I'm nervous about it. But if hinting at sex disturbs you, like serious hinting... Then don't read it. This chapter's also pretty short compared to the last one, but it makes for a really fast, exciting read. I think everyone'll like this chapter.
I don't own Life With Derek or any of the involved characters... However, I do own Cassy and Dean. Whom you'll meet later on in the chapter. Anyways, hope you enjoy!
"I have to admit I'm impressed."
Parties really aren't my scene, but it's New Year's Eve. One of my closest friends from Fletcher invited me, and, well, Sam wanted to go. I don't really mind, since I haven't seen any of them since, well... Since when Derek took me to Toronto. I forgot how much I missed it all. Actually, that's a lie. I haven't forgotten any of it. It's hard to forget when I miss that life every day. Sam's off in the bathroom because he ate something funny and wasn't looking too well. Surprisingly enough, I am not just sitting by the food table, looking like a wallflower. This party is actually a lot of fun. I just wish Sam was feeling well enough to enjoy it properly.
It was approximately eleven when Derek waltzed in. I don't even know how he got here. I thought he was going to about fifty other parties. Out of all the parties in the country, he walks into mine. I realize how incredibly Casablanca that makes it sound... But, I mean, come on, you would think! We don't really have any mutual friends, so it defies logic. Not that anything about Derek is logical. Gah. I so did not want to see Derek. Naturally, once I saw him practically flip his hair, I whirled around and started walking in the other direction. I suddenly needed some air.
I stepped outside and on to the porch, acutely feeling the cold of Canadian winters. I'd left my jacket inside, but it was too late to go back in and get it. Besides, I thought with a shudder that was maybe less from the cold than I had previously thought, Derek was still in there. He knew Sam and me were going to that party, damn him. He knew. So he decided that he needed to follow me like some overbearing chaperone who would bogart my date and completely ruin the night for me. I hated how Sam always picked Derek over me- at least outwardly, anyways. What mattered was that I had his heart, a place which even Derek couldn't touch. I smiled satisfactorily at that small victory, shivering in my green tulle dress.
Why, oh why had I been stupid enough to wear something so thin and so flimsy? I pulled the spaghetti straps up for the millionth time, feeling very frustrated. Still, it was nice to breathe fresh, crisp air. The air wasn't like this back home. Derek was always stinking it up. Or Edwin or Marti or George. One of those Venturi barbarians, at any rate. I made a face at the thought, which unfortunately reminded me of a conversation I'd had earlier that day with Lizzie. I wrapped my arms around me, feeling uncomfortable with the mere thought of that forbidden conversation.
Since I'm her big sister, Lizzie frequently comes to me for advice. She's been coming to me lately for more girly stuff... You know, asking about make-up and boys and dating, leafing through Seventeen and CosmoGirl with me. Let me tell you, those publications have some articles that are quite inappropriate for a ten-year-old to read! Anyways, Lizzie came to me looking quite distraught. The poor dear looked like she hadn't slept in days, and she was still all sweaty from soccer practice. She just barged into my room, not unlike Derek, without knocking, of course. She looked around rather furtively and then shut and locked the door behind her. Naturally, I was immediately alarmed. Was something wrong? What did Lizzie have in mind? "Lizzie... Is something wrong?" I asked worriedly, glancing up from my book.
I found a particular irony to the situation, since I was in the middle of reading Pride and Prejudice, my new favorite book. Thanks to her I still haven't finished it, you know. I only got halfway through, and she interrupted at a such a good part! Lizzie nodded, looking quite downtrodden. Since my baby sister seemed to be in such emotional distress, I set my book down, marking the page. I got up, walking over to her slowly, and I put my arms around her in a wordless hug. Even though Lizzie smelled vaguely like freshly mowed grass, snow, mud, sweat, and a vague hint of blood. Lizzie, however, did not relish the support. She almost immediately pushed me away, shaking her head firmly. That's when I knew, as all sisters do. "It's about a boy, isn't it?" I questioned rhetorically, already knowing my answer to be true.
Lizzie nodded very seriously. I bade her to sit down, and she did in the chair at my desk. I sat primly on the edge of my bed, waiting for her to tell me. However, Lizzie seemed oddly withdrawn, and she did not volunteer information. I found this strange as Lizzie normally told me everything. Here was an opportunity when I wasn't complaining to her, and she obviously had a problem, yet she couldn't speak. Something fishy was afoot. "Come on, Liz... You can tell me. Just start from the beginning. What's the problem with you and this boy?" I stated encouragingly, hoping I would soon get her to open up to me. Lizzie bit her lip, though, and still looked a bit reluctant. I was puzzled as to why, but I gracefully said nothing.
I did, however, send Lizzie a questioning glance. Lizzie sighed and looked rather frustrated. Maybe she was just tired. Either way, she eventually looked back up at me and spoke slowly, as if she were afraid. "I don't want you to judge me, Casey," Lizzie said warily, sizing me up. I have to admit that I was offended by her remark. Why on Earth would she think I would judge her? I'm her sister, after all, and I only want the best for her. I didn't see any possible judgment coming, so I merely shrugged, assuring her that I wouldn't judge her. Lizzie, however, still seemed gun-shy. I wondered why. What was so terrible about this boy that she thought I'd disapprove of? This of course meant that there was something about him that I'd disapprove of. I gulped nervously, but Lizzie didn't notice. I was beginning to worry.
Amazingly enough, Lizzie relaxed a little, loosening her lips. She leaned back against the chair wearily, as if she was tired of liking this boy. "Okay... So I kind of like this guy," Lizzie began awkwardly, gazing straight up at the ceiling. I fought the urge to roll my eyes at her. Way to state the obvious. Lizzie paused briefly, glancing at me for an instant before resuming her gaze. She licked her lips, which were dry, chapped, and white from the cold. "And we're basically best friends. We're really close, and we hang out all the time. But I want something more, obviously. But I can't do anything about it because I don't know how he feels, and I value our friendship too much to do anything to jeopardize it," Lizzie detailed honestly, sounding just a bit frustrated. I smiled wryly, thinking that the boy must be oblivious. It was so cute.
Ah, the thrills of middle-school dating. For a moment, I tried to piece together just which friend she was talking about. I didn't recall Lizzie having any male friends to speak of. Then Lizzie looked at me, straight at me, right in the eyes. "What if he thinks of me as a sister, Casey?" She implored almost desperately. She said it like that was her greatest fear. No girl wants to be seen as a little sister. I wondered what I could say to her to dispel her fears. But I didn't know the guy, nor did I have any idea of how he must feel. I weighed the value of a close friendship with the value of a relationships, and I found myself with the same dilemma as Lizzie. I too would choose the easy friendship.
I tried and failed to think of something articulate and helpful to say. I almost decided to tell her to chance it, but that advice could easily backfire, couldn't it? So I did the only thing I could. I asked for a name. "Do I know this boy? What's his name?" I pondered curiously, casually. I hadn't made a big deal of it, and Lizzie totally didn't have to answer if she didn't want to... Lizzie turned absolutely white at the suggestion and seemed close to fainting away. I wrote that off as weariness, noting how weak it sounded. Then Lizzie nodded very, very slowly for one long, terrifying moment.
I should've known from the start exactly who she was talking about. But I overlooked the obvious. Lizzie swallowed hard and looked down as if ashamed, which I suppose she was. Then she quietly mumbled the name of the boy she admired. I, of course, did not hear it. So I made her repeat it, but that was still too quiet. Then I made her repeat it one more time, and it was finally loud enough for human ears. "Edwin," She squeaked, unable to even look at me for a second. At first, I thought I'd misheard her, but then she repeated his name, louder this time. And I knew. History was repeating itself in a sickening way.
Naturally, I was not amused. Hell, I was pissed off. I immediately leaped up from my seat, seething with rage. It was cruel of me to direct it at Lizzie, and it probably had more to do with the fact that it reminded me of Derek's foolish love for me. I was disgusted at the mere thought. Besides, Lizzie was still so young with her whole life ahead of her. She shouldn't waste it on some stupid Venturi boy. While Edwin was not Derek, he still had half the same genes in him. And that made him only marginally better than Derek. "WHAT!?" I screeched so loudly I was glad the house was empty. Lizzie cowered in fear as she should've; I was red in the face and absolutely furious. "How dare you!" I gasped, feeling betrayed by my own blood. If Mother and Lizzie both fell for it...
I immediately banished the frustrating thought, growing ever more enraged by the minute. Lizzie shivered, looking up at me with big, childish eyes. But I had no sympathy for her. "How could you be so stupid, Liz? We McDonalds are above such idiocy! He's your freaking stepbrother, Lizzie! Your stepbrother. You should know better. Tell me why; why out of all the boys at school did you have to pick him? He's certainly not the only human with a Y-chromosome that talks to you!" I snapped venemously, guilting Lizzie as best as I could. I had all the weapons at my command, and I had to use them to make Lizzie see the error of her ways. Liking a Venturi was a foolish idea in and of itself, but liking one's stepbrother was simply idiotic!
Lizzie stiffened at my comments, sitting up straight in the chair. Unbelievably, the resentful girl glowered at me. I was only trying to help her. Didn't she see that? What did she see in Edwin anyways? What could be so great about him that she'd be willing to risk everything, even the health of this family and Mom's happiness, to have him? Ewww. Lizzie's eyes were hard, resolved and resolute. Sickeningly, she reminded me of Derek in that way. Derek, however, was incorrigible. Lizzie, on the other hand, was my little sister. I could manipulate her, force her hand, make her change her mind. It would be hard, but I would do it. For her own good. It took her so long to answer the question I was beginning to wonder if she was merely joking with me. "You don't understand, Casey. He's the nicest boy I've ever met. He understands me in ways that even you can't. He makes me laugh. We're interested in the same things. He's my best friend, my partner in crime. But most of all... He listens," Lizzie replied softly, with a quiet intensity.
I hated how she was right. She made Edwin sound like a wonderful guy. And I suppose maybe he is. I have nothing against him personally. He's really been quite cooperative in comparison to his other siblings, and he is wonderfully nice to Lizzie. Too nice, perhaps... They had been awful chummy. But her words stung. How could Edwin understand her in ways I couldn't? I was her sister, and I'd grown up with her. I was there the day she was born, and I've been there ever since. She comes to me for advice, doesn't she? I understand her. I know what she's all about. And who says I don't listen? I vowed silently to be a better sister, to listen more and better... As long as it kept her away from Edwin's arms.
I refuse to let my sister ruin her life. All of that was well and good, but not a real reason to like someone. They're just friends, and I'd convince her of that. I was going to reassure her that Edwin would never, ever like her or even view her in a romantic light. I knew Edwin did, though... I'd always thought something was a little off with the way he peered at her sideways. They were too close and now I had to separate them. But at least she came to me, not Derek. Lizzie doesn't want support. She wants to be talked out of it, and I'm not going to disappoint her. My eyes flashed as I began pacing angrily. "Lizzie, stop this foolishness! Edwin is family. He is your brother, first and foremost. Think of the example pursuing him would set for Marti. She would probably try going after Derek or some equally disgusting perversion. We are not the Brady Bunch, Marcia, so stop trying to mess around with Greg," I hissed vehemently, staring Lizzie down. I didn't want to have to get violent, but if she continued being so insolent and unresponsive, I would have to knock the sense back into her.
Alas, if only I were a preacher, that I might knock the fear of God into her! Lizzie was irritated. She actually rolled her eyes at me. "Please," She scoffed, giving me a dirty look, "Get it right. You're Marcia, and Derek's Greg." Then she started muttering under her breath about how people shouldn't do analogies if they can't even get them correct. Needless to say, that little incident pissed me off. Nowhere in this conversation was there room for Derek. And I certainly did not want to have to mention him anyways. He only harmed my case, of course, which is why Lizzie made that casual mention, to see if she could get away with it. Well, she can't. I won't let her.
I stopped pacing to grab her by the shoulders and shake her once, hard enough that her teeth rattled. "Get a hold of yourself, Lizzie! There are other boys out there. Ones that are not your stepbrother. So pick one of them and save yourself the trouble of wanting someone you can't have," I pleaded logically, at first appealing to her emotions. Then my eyes narrowed and the conversation took on a decidedly malicious tone. I'll admit that my arguments were illogical, but Lizzie was ten and scared. She wouldn't care or notice. I was going to reach her. "Unless you want messed up children, Lizzie. And how on Earth would you explain that to them? Oh, yes, you're mentally incapacitated because Mommy had to go screw her brother, your daddy!" I shouted virulently, bringing children into it. After all, I knew Lizzie wanted kids.
Lizzie looked slightly shaken and worried by this, but said nothing. She stayed absolutely silent, looking more lost as time went by. I hated to do this to her, but she needed to learn. "Incest is a crime, Lizzie, did you know that? You or Edwin could go to jail for it. And by being selfish enough to even pursue a relationship with him, why, you could break up this very family! What would Mom and George say, huh? You're lucky you came to me about this instead of them because I guarantee you, they would ship you off to boarding school faster than you can say stepbrother! They would not approve, Liz, because it is wrong to have feelings for your stepbrother," I said frostily, trying to make myself the good guy by not telling them. I wondered for a brief moment just how Mom and George would really react anyways, but I pushed it aside.
Lizzie glared at me fiercely, shaking her head. How dare she disagree! I was trying to help her. She needed to see that. This would be better for her in the long run. "Oh, so it's okay for you to make out with Derek in the hallway, but not for me to like Edwin? Way to be a hypocrite, Case!" Lizzie retorted furiously. She was obviously fed up with my insults, but I had to persist. Plus, she had made the foolish mistake of bringing up Derek. Which meant that I was on the war path to defend myself.
I turned the full force of my glare on Lizzie, showing her I meant business. "I have no feelings whatsoever for Derek except loathing. He disgusts me. I do not want for Derek. What you saw was him forcing himself on me, Lizzie. Otherwise, I assure you that I would have had no part in the foul, loathesome deed," I swore vehemently, hissing through my teeth. I was furious at the mere recollection of the violation. Derek is despicable, I'd thought. How I despised him! Lizzie's suspicious look slowly faded off her face, and I knew then that the moment was ripe. I sprung for the kill.
She was slowly starting to accept what I said as the absolute, supreme, overarching truth. And soon it would be engraved in her brain as fact. And then, surely, she would not like Edwin anymore. I felt victorious, sick with glee. I placed a hand on her shoulder reassuringly, despite the awful things I said next. "It's sick, Lizzie, the way you're feeling. Stop having feelings for Edwin, and there's no problem. I won't have to tell Mom or George. But if you keep pining after him and, Heaven forbid, try and make a move on him? I swear to you, Liz, I will tell them in an instant. You will be dead to me from that point on, and I will no longer have a sister," I threatened boldly, making Lizzie's options very clear. Me or Edwin. I had no doubt that she would choose me. After all, liking Edwin was wrong, sick, and condemned by all sources. She wasn't going to find any support here.
Lizzie caved, then, just like I knew she would. It was good that she wasn't a dam. I don't think she'd last a day. However, I hated to see Lizzie looking so depressed. She was pouting (not on purpose) and her eyes were beginning to swell with tears. I wished it didn't have to be like this, but I knew it did, so I had no regrets. Lizzie shouldn't like her stepbrother. I was teaching her a valuable lesson. While I was sorry it had to hurt so much, it was a necessary evil. Still... Lizzie looked utterly miserable as she finally glanced up at me, falling to pieces. "Why do I have to stop liking him, Casey?" She asked, sounding weak and helpless, like a littler girl. It was strange to hear her like that, since Lizzie's always been so much stronger than I have. Lizzie, the brave athlete, determined worker, was breaking. I frowned and softly wiped away her tears, trying once again to endear myself to her. It would be much easier now that she saw it my way.
I patted her reassuringly on the shoulder, embracing her as only a sister could. I took her into my arms and let her cry. She didn't exactly know why she was crying, but then again, she hadn't realized how I had completely manipulated her either. Like cake, I tell you. "Because it's wrong. He's family and a friend, but not anything more. And Edwin... Honey, he's so oblivious that he could never like you as more," I murmured softly, playing the sympathetic sister, making sure that she heard the last part. Her sobs got particularly louder afterwards, so I assumed she had. Brilliant. I really am too good at this. But I'm not being mean or anything. This is what's best for her. And I won't let my sister settle for second best. "The fleeting moment when you thought you liked him was a result of hormones and close proximity. It has been scientifically proven that humans will be attracted to someone they see more often. You merely mistook friendship for something deeper, Lizzie. It was an honest mistake, and I forgive you for it," I explained soothingly, scientifically so that she could understand it.
I suddenly understood what she meant about their interests. Both Lizzie and Edwin had a passion for science. Well... Her being a jock will surely work against that. Besides, Edwin's too smart to go after Lizzie. But still, I might have to have a talk with him. Although, really, would that do any good? I might just get him thinking about Lizzie, and we don't want that at all. Lizzie pulled back, and I smiled at her, wiping away the tears as best as I could. "Now stop crying," I ordered a bit too cheerfully, "It's really silly to cry over Edwin, anyways. He's just a boy, and he doesn't deserve your tears." I was so casual about it. I shot Lizzie a reproachful look when she didn't immediately stop. Then I grinned. "Now, come on, Lizzie, smile. Yes, that's good..." I coaxed her almost teasingly, causing Lizzie to smile and then giggle. There. After a good cry, good as new. She won't even know what she's missing. "Now you go get cleaned up, and I'll take you out for some ice cream," I remarked brightly, shoving her into the bathroom.
Thirty minutes later, I'd freshened up a bit and was waiting for Lizzie at the end of the hallway. Ironically enough, Edwin was tromping down the hallway at the exact same instant Lizzie stepped out of the bathroom. Thankfully for my sanity, Lizzie was fully clothed. Her skin was faintly pink, and her hair was damp, which was the only way you'd know that she had just come out of the shower. Unlike Derek and I, Lizzie and Edwin did not wind up falling on top of each other; they merely bumped heads. Lizzie pulled back immediately, sharply. Edwin looked at her strangely, concerned. To Lizzie's chagrin, he leaned in further, growing more concerned once he saw her red-rimmed, swollen eyes. Lizzie backed away nervously, clearly unnerved by his growing closeness. "Is something wrong, Lizzie?" He asked worriedly.
There was no doubt in my mind that Edwin liked Lizzie after that. Lizzie glanced down and away, a clear sign of avoidance. I couldn't help but notice her shoot a glance at me before doing so. "No, Ed... I'm fine," She replied calmly, obviously not meaning it. We McDonalds are terrible liars. She must get that from me. I sensed weakness in Lizzie, and I was right to do so. Edwin frowned at this answer and was about to say something when I jumped in.
I stalked down the hallway, plastering a fake smile unto my lips. "Hey, Lizzie, what about that ice cream? You ready to go, Kiddo?" I exclaimed cheerfully. Lizzie glanced up at me, a look of death on her face. She did not look at all thrilled by the prospect. In fact, she looked rather annoyed that I wouldn't even let her spend two seconds alone with Edwin. But I had to. Lizzie is strong, but I knew she would crack. She hasn't yet learned to stay fully away from Edwin yet. But she'll see... Eventually, even if I have to make her. Lizzie attempted to smile, but it was really more of a grimace.
I noticed that she glanced furtively at Edwin out of the corner of eye. I frowned at this, but Lizzie's eyes hardened. She nodded minutely. "Only if Edwin comes too," She stated assertively. Edwin looked at her and smiled softly, hopefully. I knew deep down in my soul that I had to quash this before it became something. It was suspiciously close to becoming something. And I needed to squash it, to kill it, to eliminate it. I looked at Lizzie like she was an alien, and I noticed an emotion I'd rarely seen in her. Anger. Lizzie was mad at me. Mad at me for protecting her. "We have to discuss our science project, Casey. You wouldn't stand in the way of learning, would you?" Lizzie insinuated tersely, completely serious.
It was one of the rare times in which Lizzie had ever stood up to me. Unfortunately, I'd found out that ever since we'd moved into the Venturi home, those times were becoming all the more frequent. Edwin had a curious, puzzled look on his face. Lizzie refused to back down. I noted the weakness, the softness for Edwin that her actions were betraying. It was almost her own little way of defying me. A passive-aggressive way, anyways. It seemed innocent, but I knew Lizzie was lying about the project. However, I figured that I might as well supervise. That way I could insure that nothing improper went on between them. I could stonewall all attempts at romance. Although neither Lizzie nor Edwin is the type to make such a forward move.
They're not Derek, after all. Thankfully. Although I am worried about Edwin... You never know.
But, back to the present... I was peacefully standing out there, mulling over the distressing circumstances of the burgeoning relationship between my sister and my stepbrother. Well, at least it wasn't Derek. That would be a thousand times worse. Then I think I'd have to deprogram poor Lizzie. Or teach her resistance techniques... if only I knew any techniques to resist Derek. I don't mean it like that. He's just... so persistent, you know? And he never quits until he gets what he wants.
Speaking of the Devil, guess who just walked out on to the porch?
Yes, that's right. Derek, the bane of my existance.
Joy. Speaking of which, do you know what he got me for Christmas? Lingerie. Skimpy lingerie that I would never, ever wear in a million years. Seriously. And when I confronted him, he just smirked and remarked, "Well, maybe I'll get to see you wear it." He was freaking amused by it. Then again, that's Derek for you.
Of all the porches at all the parties on all the nights of the year, he had to walk on to mine. I didn't sigh despairingly as I wished to. Nor did I make a single sound to acknowledge Derek's presence. In fact, I silently planned to escape. Fortunately, Derek's back was to me, and he hadn't seen me yet. I could still make a break for it. I glanced at my watch, trying to time it just perfectly. That was my first mistake. I'm always trying too hard to have everything perfect. And everything can't always go perfect, case in point that dinner with Uncle Dennis. I still avoid thinking of that night, by the way.
So, on the count of three, I vaulted over the low balustrade on the porch. Unfortunately, my landing did not go as smoothly as planned. I am really not that much of a klutz. I mean, really, it only happens when Derek is around. I somehow landed flat on my back... Fortunately I landed on a squarish-roundish shrub, not the rosebush next to it. I was going to bounce right up when I noticed a very familiar, smirking face looking down at me. It was, of course, a very smug Derek. "Well, if it isn't my favorite step-sister..." He replied suggestively, looking me up and down, obviously liking what he saw. That was one of those things that had always unnerved me about Derek... no one else looked at me the way he did. No one, not even Sam, my boyfriend. Then again, Derek's a whore. Of course he looks at me like he wants to do me.
And who knows? He can probably see up or down my dress from this angle. I was practically spread-eagled, after all. I made a face at him, resenting being called his "favorite" step-sister. Derek was, however, holding out a hand to help me, and I could see no ulterior motives. So I took his hand anyways, against my better judgment. I squinted at him, half-scowling. "Derek," I stated, bored and glaring at him with all my might. "To what to I owe the pleasure?" I snapped sarcastically, making it clear that it was not a pleasure. Not that that would remotely influence how Derek saw it. Derek smirked and helped me up. Just when I was standing, on the edge of the porch, I had a sudden thought. Grinning rather maliciously myself, I clutched the rail with one hand and yanked on Derek's hand with the other. Then I abruptly let go and tore his hand from mine.
I sent him tumbling headfirst into the rosebush. And I'm glad I did. I have never heard a sound as sweet as Derek's cursing and moaning (in pain, of course!). It was so very... satisfying. Derek tried as best he could to sit up, but there were all those nasty thorns. Those nasty, wonderful, prickly thorns. He somehow managed to twist and sit up so he was facing me, cursing all the way. He glowered up at me spitefully, lip bloodied. I glared back at him, plastering myself against the railing for safety. Derek growled, extremely frustrated. "Casey, don't look at me like that!" He protested irritably. I did not listen to him. Derek sighed then, but it came out more like a hiss. "Oh, don't be so self-centered. I didn't come here because I knew you were here. I came here because it was the only party in a twenty mile radius that Kendra couldn't possibly be at," Derek mumbled shortly, scowl deepening.
I snorted, amused that Derek would go to such lengths to avoid an ex. It did, however, seem a bit farfetched, even for Derek. Not that Kendra was an especially nice ex or anything. Okay, so she was a bit... psycho. I contemplated it for a moment. If it was possible, his scowl actually deepened. "And then she showed up here, of all places!" Derek shouted furiously. He only wound up injuring himself. I started laughing hysterically. Derek rolled his eyes and somehow managed to thrust himself off of the rosebush. Naturally, he found a place right up against my skin, pressing against me, fingers clutching the railing. It was kind of awkward, considering Derek's head was right under my breasts. Not a comfortable position.
Now, I seriously thought that Derek was just kidding about Kendra. I thought it was pretty low to bring his ex into it, but I was completely wrong. I was completely wrong because only seconds later, Kendra burst through the door, and I immediately shoved Derek... hard. He fell back into the rosebush to my satisfaction. I grinned at the picture Derek made, swearing and fighting off a rosebush. Naturally, the spectacle drew a worried Kendra's attention. She rushed over to the railing like she thought she was the Juliet to his Romeo. She wasn't, by the way, but she was wearing this totally trashy, completely garish blue dress. A dress I knew very well that Derek would've loved. "Oh, Derry!" She screamed girlishly, grasping the balcony.
Derek and I both rolled our eyes at that. "I missed you so much, baby!" Kendra beamed widely, looking at Derek adoringly. "Now, Derry, you just come here and let me make it all better!" She offered flirtatiously, overjoyed to see Derek. She held out her arms for him to embrace. Derek, on the other hand, frowned and stayed put. He looked completely nonplussed.
"I'd rather take my chances with the rosebush, thanks," He muttered with a grim smile, trying to put her off. I snorted, suddenly appreciating Derek's cruel sense of humor. Kendra had been so... normal... before they started dating. It was a shame she'd sunk to such a low, pleading for Derek's affections like this. Kendra merely looked confused, like she couldn't understand why he was angry. Kendra pouted, impatiently stamping her foot on the ground. She was stupid if she thought that would get Derek's attention. That would only annoy him. Predictably, Derek didn't even look at her.
Kendra adopted a truly flashy appearance, flaunting all of her assets. Yet Derek remained aloof and unaffected. "Derek, come on... Don't you want to kiss me at midnight? I am your girlfriend after all," Kendra whined, sounding exactly like I had remembered. How many times had she whined and cried to me on the phone when Derek refused to take her calls? How many times had she dumped him anyways? Hell, now that I thought about it, I spent more time talking to her during their relationship than Derek did. And then it became apparent just how much she annoyed the both of us.
That girlfriend comment just about did it for Derek. I should explain that Kendra somehow happened upon the information that she was Derek's longest girlfriend. She assumed she meant something to him, which would've been true... a few months ago, maybe. But the boy had clearly moved on, and Kendra was blind if she couldn't see that. Derek immediately leaped up from the rosebush, not even wincing from the pain. His eyes were darker than usual, glinting threateningly as they narrowed. "Look, Kendra, I don't know who told you we were back together, but we aren't. We're over. For good," Derek stated plainly, loudly. If you ask me he couldn't have been more clear than that, but somehow Kendra didn't get it. I, of all people, know that there is no use talking sense with that girl. All the times I tried talking her out of liking him. Never worked.
Derek rolled his eyes at her as well the idiotic girl deserved. I lamented the loss of yet another rational girl to Derek's dubious charms. "Kendra, you were just a conquest," Derek drawled frostily, knowing just how cruel he was being. Kendra, bless her soul, started crying and shaking her head fiercely. It can't be true. That was what she was thinking. I shot Derek a dirty look. Even if he didn't want the girl, she didn't deserve to be crushed like that. Kendra didn't know Derek like I did. She thought he was this great guy, but that was a lie. Then Kendra started to shake and sob. I pitied her more and more. Derek was being such an ass.
Cruel Intentions, indeed, I thought, remembering the scene in which Sebastian broke up with Annette. This, however, seemed a little less forced and a lot less like he had any actual feelings for her whatsoever. Is that what I am, the Kathryn in this twisted triangle? I am not a slut. I... Then Kendra let out a mournful wail. "I love you, Derek!" Kendra cried painfully, nearly writhing in agony. Derek winced and backed away. Apparently Derek thought this was a bit much. I suddenly wanted to do nothing more than leave and get away from this awfully private public scene. It should've stayed private. I mean, honestly, how can Kendra maintain her dignity if Derek's not the only one to witness her breakdown?
Derek stiffened but straightened up a little. The look on his face was utterly sober, even though I knew he'd had at least two drinks already. He approached his psycho ex-girlfriend warily, as if afraid she'd explode at any minute. This was not a wholly unreasonable fear. Like he said, Derek Venturi does not do crying. Well, okay... He doesn't really do comforting. Whatever.
He did not hold out a hand or do anything that might possibly seem to be a welcoming gesture. In fact, a rather pained look crossed his face. He looked down for a moment, almost as if ashamed or embarrassed, two things Derek certainly never was. Then he looked up again, defiant. "I love someone else, Kendra. And she's not you," He murmured quietly but loud enough that she could hear it clearly. Kendra continued weeping profusely, flinging her arms everywhere like someone helpless. In fact, one of those swinging arms hit me! Right across the face, might I add... And it stung like a bitch.
No, as a fitting irony she did not knock me into the rosebush. I did, however, land face-first sprawled over the roundish hedge shrub sort of thing. Leaves taste terrible, by the way. In somehow managing to delicately extract myself from the leafy shrubbery, I wound up falling hard on the ground. I got a few scrapes from the ordeal, one particularly deep one on my forearm. I managed to get to my feet somehow and all of a sudden, I noticed Derek coming toward me. He grabbed my arm gently, somehow looking concerned. I was more surprised than Kendra. "Are you okay?" Derek asked with wide, slightly panicked brown eyes. "I love you" was written all across his face. My face burned, so I looked away, gave a curt nod, and jerked my arm out of his grip. In the background, Kendra made a noise of distress, so that both of us turned to look at her.
Derek fixed her with a fierce stare, furious that she still didn't get it. Or maybe, come to think of it, Derek was mad at her for hurting me. That, of course, was ridiculous. There was something eerily serious and awe-inspiring about his face. Then that look disappeared, and a mask of apathy covered his face. "Look, Kendra, I'm telling you this because I respect you as a person, and I think you deserve to know. Because you're not stupid, despite how you're acting right now. The truth is, Kendra, you're clingy. You didn't let me breathe. That's why we broke up," Derek said honestly, to the point of being blunt. It was an incredibly rude thing to say. Kendra had miraculously stopped crying. I guess she needed the honesty as some sort of closure.
Then Derek went too far. He sort of smirked, crossing his arms over his chest. I slowly began to walk away from him in hopes that I might escape this awkwardness. Derek, of course, had other plans. "Now, I'm in love with someone else. In fact, I'm in love with Casey right here. Yes, you heard me right. Casey, my stepsister," Derek declared boldly, causing me to freeze dead in my tracks. I whirled around, absolutely horrified. Derek told Kendra, his ex? Why on Earth would he tell her a fool thing like that? So she could hate me too? Is he trying to enact some sort of revenge on me? Kendra shot me a deathglare, scrunching up her nose, looking more jealous than she had ever looked with Emily.
I glowered at Derek, fingers itching to wrap around his throat and strangle him. Sometimes I just wanted to rip him to pieces and castrate him and... Well, I won't bore you with the details. Derek shot me a look, sighing heavily, and I couldn't help but notice that he looked just a little... sad. He immediately continued to meet Kendra's evil stare. "And she hates me, Kendra. She's never encouraged my affections. She doesn't want a thing to do with me. If I died, she'd be happy that I wasn't around to bother her anymore. But I'd rather chase after her than be with you again, you got me?" Derek hissed, sounding uncharacteristically bitter and harsh... but mostly more vulnerable than I ever remembered, and he'd told me he loved me! Why was he baring his heart and soul to his ex-girlfriend like she'd understand?
From the look on her face, I could tell that Kendra didn't understand. Not that I could blame her. I didn't even understand! Kendra straightened up, wiping away her tears. She managed to sober up a little. Then she got bitter as all ex-girlfriends eventually do. What lousy timing this girl has. She glared at Derek like he'd murdered her whole family. "I'm gonna tell the whole school, Derek. I'll let everyone know just how sick you really are. You care so much about your popularity. Well, it'll all go down the drain, and you'll just be known as the freak who's in love with his stepsister!" Kendra threatened in a manner I would've admired, had Derek's source of embarrassment not been mine as well. Surprisingly, Derek wasn't alarmed by this.
He just stood there coolly, crossing his arms over his chest and taking it all. His eyes were surprisingly dead, and his face was even more devoid of emotion. It was like he didn't even care that she was going to expose his dirty little secret. "Tell the whole school if you want, Kendra. I don't care what people think about me. If this is the price I pay for telling you the truth, so be it. I probably deserve it," Derek admitted nonchalantly, a firm look in his eyes. He was actually prepared for her to go and do that. I gaped at Derek, awed. Not only does Derek admit wrongdoing, but he willingly accepts a punishment for something he shouldn't. It's not like it's his fault he doesn't love her or anything. Not that I mean to sound sympathetic or anything, but you just can make someone love you if they don't.
This, however, brought up a new, disturbing thought. Derek didn't care about popularity anymore? Or what people thought of him? Seriously, who is this guy and what has he done with Derek? I certainly don't know him. Then Derek leaned forward towards Kendra, placing a hand on top of hers. If I wasn't mistaken, his eyes actually took on a pleading look. "Look, Kendra... Do whatever you want to me. Just don't involve Casey in this. It's not her fault that I don't love you. She shouldn't have to suffer from association. You can make up whatever lie about me that you want. I'll even give you suggestions... You could say I'm lousy in bed or that I'm completely gay or that I can't get it up or that I'm small or that I'm into bondage and kinky stuff or that I'm an alcoholic or that I was in rehab or that I'm addicted to any drug you want or that I have a million STDs... Anything you want to ruin my image, to make me look bad," Derek suggested hopefully, making an even more surprising sacrifice, and for me, of all people! He looked Kendra deep in the eyes. "Just, please, don't do anything to Casey," He begged desperately, actually demeaning himself for me.
Kendra softened at the look in Derek's eyes. They all melt like butter before the chocolate brown puppy-dog eyes. She sighed, pursing her lips and debating it for a moment. "I won't tell," She said finally, meeting Derek's anxious eyes and nodding. Derek smiled a smile of genuine warmth, but it was mostly of thanks. Nothing else... No romantic longing. Then Kendra completely unnerved me by looking directly at me and smiling sadly. "You're a lucky girl, Casey, that a guy like Derek will want you... no matter how many times you push him away. He'll grow on you, I can tell," Kendra foretold, sounding oddly foreboding. I felt the hairs on the back of my neck stand up, but, well, it was cold.
Midnight was drawing ever nearer, so I wanted to find Sam and just leave. So I dove back into the party headfirst (not unlike Derek and the rosebush), hunting for any word of Sam. A few people directed me towards the bathroom, but they told me he'd been in there a while, and it wouldn't be pretty. I had no idea just how unpretty it would be. Derek, unfortunately, was hot on my heels. He threw himself in front of the door right when I reached it. His eyes were wide, and he was panting slightly. "You don't want to go in there, Casey," Derek advised tersely, catching his breath. I rolled my eyes at him and shoved him aside.
"Derek, he's my boyfriend, and I want to see him. Now go away and do whatever the hell it is you do at these things," I sniped furiously, pushing Derek away from me. Derek sighed, frowning, but he did as I asked and left anyways. I glanced after him for a moment, wondering what was so important that he'd lingered. But then I just turned around, shrugging it off, mentally writing it off as something nonimportant. Then I hesitantly knocked on the door. "Sam, are you in there? Feeling better?" I called with a slight tremor in my voice. Damn Derek for making me all... wary and weird. Damn him. Relax, Casey, I told myself; you have nothing to worry about. Or so I thought.
I heard a strange noise in the background that sounded vaguely like wretching, so I just figured that Sam was still overcoming a bout of food poisoning. I gave him a few minutes later and found myself quite anxious. I wasn't worried. I was just wondering whether he was okay or not. Even if he wasn't, I wanted to go in there with him and keep him company. No matter how bad it was. Ah, to imagine that only seconds later I'd be eating my words! I was his girlfriend, after all. I should have been in there nursing him back to health, but sufficient distractions like Derek and his ex kept me from my girlfriend duty. I felt all guilty, too... Like I hadn't been there for Sam. Like I was a crappy girlfriend. And I knew I was. A good girlfriend wouldn't let a guy like Derek dominate her life. And yet...
A few agonizing minutes later, I heard someone walking towards the door. I figured that it was Sam. "Yeah, Case... I'm here. And thanks, I'm feelin' much better," He drawled hoarsely, slightly breathless. Sam did not sound good. He sounded like he had a sore throat too... from all the vomiting, of course. I suddenly felt so awful for my poor little Sam. He was suffering so badly. I wished that somehow I could make him feel better. And then Sam said it. He invited me in. "But you know what would make me recover completely?" He rasped with a low, amused chuckle, "You comin' in here." When I look back on it now, all of my thoughts on this conversation and the conversation itself are particularly ironic. You see, now this is the part where you, the reader, realizes that there's something wrong, but I don't. Dramatic irony's a bitch, isn't it?
It really is, as I'm about to find out. I merely smiled, completely enthused, and pushed the door open slowly. I have never regretted a decision more, I assure you. Because when I opened that door... Well, how do I put this while still remaining a lady? I don't suppose there is a polite way to put this. Basically, my boyfriend was by the toilet. That was just about the only thing that was normal or even remotely like what I'd expected opening the door. Actually, Sam was sitting on top of the toilet, sans hat, head thrown back... in pleasure. Disgusting, filthy, perverted pleasure. A trampy blonde was sitting on the edge of the sink, panties around her ankles. Sam's hand was so far up her skirt I couldn't see much of it, but it was between her legs. And it was kind of a no-brainer as to what he was doing.
Especially considering that the trampy blonde ho had smeared lipstick, and her shirt was half unbuttoned. I saw more of that one girl than I ever wanted to see. Of all the girls in the school, it was Cassy Trent, a.k.a. the biggest slut in the whole school. She's basically white trash. There are even rumors that she's a prostitute, which would not surprise me. Even Derek steers clear of her, if that says anything about where she ranks on the social totem pole. I mean, she's the easiest girl in school by far, but... What was it Derek said about her? "She's like a one-way trip to STD Alley, and I've already been there, done that, don't want to catch AIDS." He had sex with her when she was less of a whore apparently. So in some small part, Derek can be blamed for her corruption, I suppose. They call her "Back Alley Sally" or "Trashy Cassy". But what I'll never get out of my mind is the way she looked.
She was completely not self-conscious. Considering that I live with Derek, this is saying something. He's actually shy on the P.D.A., thank God, but Cassy... She could have sex with a whole camera crew in the room. Actually, she could have sex in front of the whole school, including teachers, but that's not the point. She wasn't really loud like most of Derek's girls. She was sort of giggly and breathy, but nonetheless, I wanted to punch her. She threw her head back, cackling in glee, mumbling Sam's name. She licked her lips as if savoring the flavor, which was probably Sam, like a common tramp. And then there's the most disgusting part, the way she thrust her pelvis against what I can only assume was Sam's hand. Again and again. It was disgusting, but that was not even the worst part.
The worst part was that his pants were undone. Actually, that's a lie. It gets worse still. The worst part was that there was a guy attached to my boyfriend's crotch. I really don't have to make it more graphic, now do I? Because seeing Sam's eyes rolling back in his head was graphic enough for me. I gasped immediately, stunned at the graphic sight before me. At this sound, Sam managed to collect his senses. Go freaking figure. Unbelievably, he actually grinned at me, extracting his hand from Cassy's skirt to wave at me. The hand was wet. I felt like retching but somehow managed to refrain. I did not close the door. I left it wide open because I didn't feel comfortable alone in a room with... these people! And Sam would've deserved to be seen like this anyways. I suddenly understood why Kendra had wanted to ruin Derek... only she hadn't caught Derek cheating on her or anything. And they weren't together anymore. But Sam had broken my trust, and thus... my heart.
I couldn't believe the nerve of him. I loved him and... all this time he'd... He'd been cheating on me. I couldn't believe it. And not just with another girl, but with a guy too. My boyfriend was every bit of the whore Derek had insinuated he was. In fact, Sam was even worse than Derek. At least Derek stuck to women. Hell, Sam didn't even have standards! What the hell had happened to him to make him this guy? Sam had been so... nice. There was no way to write this off as nothing; no excuse would be good enough. But still, I had to hear what he said. Then I realized that he'd invited me in. He wanted me to see this. Did he want to break up? I had to know. "Did you expect me to join in?" I snarled venemously.
Sam gave me a suggestive, proud look that seriously insinuated that he did. If it was possible, I was even more disgusted with him than I was before. The guy on my boyfriend suddenly pulled back, turning back to glance at me. I wound up seeing much more of Sam than I wanted. The guy frowned for a moment, rubbing his jaw as if he had a toothache. Only he didn't have a toothache. His eyes widened a bit as he took in the sight of me. I had more respect for him than the others, considering he was fully dressed, and I didn't recognize him. "This must be your girlfriend, then, huh, Sammy?" He replied darkly, spitting on the ground disgustedly. I noticed the guy glance me over, bemused. He shot Sam a dirty look. "It's a real shame she got you as a boyfriend. She's an awful pretty thing, isn't she? If I wasn't gay, I'd totally have sex with her," He remarked wryly, smiling at me.
Even though this guy had been all over my boyfriend, I liked him. For some reason. Sam, on the other hand, was pissed at his "friend" for some reason. He stood up abruptly and punched the poor guy in the stomach. "Don't talk about my girlfriend like that, you pansy!" He growled, defending my honor since in one fell swoop, he'd utterly lost all of his. I glowered at Sam. Sam's little friend didn't damage my honor. Sam did by cheating on me. With anything that he can stick himself in, apparently. I walked towards Sam, who smirked, looking mighty pleased to see me. Like he thought I might be coming back to him. Fat chance. I've put up with all of Sam's crap for too long.
It all fits, and I feel so freaking stupid for falling for it! The reason he was late for everything, why he never paid, why he didn't show up on my birthday... And I was just too dumb to see it! Instead, I blindsighted Sam with a hard slap across the face. I slapped him harder than I ever hit Derek. Then again, I don't think I've ever been this mad at someone, even including Derek. And remember, I tried to strangle Derek after we kissed for the first time. God. The first time. Listen to me. There shouldn't have been more than one time. "Don't bother defending my honor, Sam. You need all the honor you can get," I spat viciously, feeling a little vindicated.
Sam's buddy smiled at me. It was then that I noticed the resemblance. You see, Sam's little screw bunny or whatever... He had reddish-brown hair, longish like Derek's. However, this guy had pretty blue eyes. I might've actually been into him if I didn't know he was gay and hadn't caught him with my boyfriend. Then I pulled away from Sam so that he wouldn't get the wrong idea. I needed to know why. Why had Sam risked everything we had... Why had he made me come in here? "Why, Sam?" I asked more shakily than I intended.
Sam held his cheek, eyes flashing with anger. He glared at me like he'd caught me cheating on him. "Because you didn't give me any," He sniped accusingly. I stiffened reflexively, not wanting my nonexistent sex-life brought up in front of these people. Burning with embarrassment and rage, I wanted nothing more at that moment than to get back at him. Because I'd realized that Sam had never really cared about me. He'd never really pressured me for sex, and I'd made my views on that very clear. We were never even in a situation where such a thing was a possibility. If Sam had really cared, he wouldn't have done what he did. He would've waited. Sam had never loved me. Not like I loved him.
It wasn't fair, but that's life. I could've been like Kendra then, crying out "I love you" as an excuse and trying to get back with him. And if I had absolutely no self-respect left, that's what I would've done. But Sam had mistreated me for a long time, and I'd been in denial about it long enough. Who would've thought that Sam would've been the bad guy... that Derek was the one that really loved me. So I didn't tell Sam how I felt because I was beginning to think that maybe I didn't love him so much anymore. Whatever love I felt for Sam was either evaporating or wanting to be gone. How could I love someone I didn't know? Sam was not the sweet, caring guy I'd fallen in love with anymore. He was someone else entirely, someone who scared me more than Trevor ever had. "So you scraped the very bottom of the barrel for an orgy in a bathroom. Real classy, Sam," I bit furiously, laughing bitterly. I meant no insult to Sammy's boy or anything. I was referring to Trashy Cassy.
Sam flinched, surprised at my language, but said absolutely nothing. He stiffened a little, finally bothering to fasten up his pants. He did not look happy. In fact, he looked rather furious with me. Of all the nerve. I glared at him, regarding him coolly. He looked sloppy and sweaty, not at all like the man I'd come to love. "Oh, I'm sorry, did I ruin your orgasm?" I retorted sharply. Sam gave me a look that clearly stated that I did. But I didn't care. I merely sneered at him, suddenly glancing around and taking the surroundings into view. Trashy Cassy was still in the room, not at all affected by my presence. My eyes narrowed. "So how do you all have sex? Do you make a Samwich?" I questioned loudly, almost as if I was amused.
The other guy laughed and nodded. Cassy's face looked laschivious at the thought. I rolled my eyes. Sam did not look amused, but his face was just the slightest bit pink. His friend walked past me. "He thinks he's got it rough... At least he wasn't the one on bottom!" He remarked cheerily. Then he cast a glance back at Sam, sending him a decidedly dour look. "By the way, Sam... It's been great and all while it lasted, but I don't want to have sex with you anymore. You're all take and no give. Plus you suck, and not in a good way," He declared proudly. I couldn't wipe the smirk off my face. Aww, now his gay lover and his girlfriend are both gonna dump him on the same night.
Sam turned to me, desperate. "I'm not gay, you know," He breathed, panicky, sounding insecure. I rolled my eyes at him, not believing a word. Not that I believed him anyways. I wasn't ever going to believe a word he said anyways. Sure, Sam. Yeah right. Sam's ex-boy rolled his eyes too. He obviously knew that wasn't true. He was on the verge of making a crude comment in response to Sam's remark when he saw me and stopped dead in his tracks.
Okay. So I was just going to have to make the snide comment. Great. I nodded slowly, and relief began to wash over Sam's face. He really thinks he's getting off that easily. "Oh, really? Then why do you have semen all over your lips?" I pondered, feigning interest. Truthfully, I didn't even know if he had semen all over his mouth. His lips were sorta glossy, though. But I figured that if he had done something, he would betray himself. And he did. He wiped at his lips, flushing a rosy red. That was the last, last straw for me. I was sickened and didn't even want to be in his presence anymore. I scowled then. "We're over, Sam. For good this time. I wouldn't touch you with a ten-foot pole now. In fact, I'd rather have sex with Derek than with you!" I screamed dramatically, making sure that my loathing came out a little more with every word.
Sam made a face, but I stopped him from saying anything. I could see the disdain and suspicion written in his eyes. Like he was one to talk. My relationship with Derek was none of his business. Not that I had one anyways. But I meant that. I would rather have sex with Derek than with Sam. I'd be less likely to get a disease that way. I swear to you, I will never have sex with Sam. Not after this. I won't even touch him again. He's dead to me. "Don't look at me like that, Sam. I'm not the one who blows guys just because they look like Derek," I snapped bitterly, smirk affixed to my face even though I was not happy. Then I whirled around, leaving before Sam could say anything. I knew I was right.
Sam's ex-boy-toy followed me out the door. Respectfully, he refrained from touching me. He looked a bit curious. "Sam always did have trouble remembering my name," He muttered somewhat curiously. I smiled somewhat weakly and politely refrained from saying that it was probably because Sam was having sex with everyone, for all I know. Except me. And Derek, because he didn't even like Sam... and for good reason, I saw. I cursed internally. A part of me wished I had listened to Derek and not gone in... Not known what my boyfriend was. But if I had... Then I wouldn't know that he was a whore. I would let his dirty hands touch me, wander... And who knows, maybe he would've convinced me to have sex with him, and I'd have gotten an STD and died. So, all in all, it's better I know, isn't it? Even if it doesn't feel like it.
The guy I was walking with turned to me, almost offering a hand for me to shake. But then of course he remembered what I walked in on, flushed accordingly, and thought the better of such an action. He smiled awkwardly, as brightly as one could in the situation. "I'm Dean, by the way," He said by way of an introduction. Unbelievably, this guy had a first name that started with D. Maybe Sammy did it on purpose then. I smiled at him, glancing around the party for Derek. I didn't see him anywhere, though. I asked around, and they all said Derek had left. So Dean just declared that he had to meet this Derek he'd heard so much about, and that he couldn't let a pretty young thing like me walk home all alone.
It had gotten very hot and very cold outside. So cold it was almost snowing. My watch said that it was close to midnight. The New Year was only a few minutes away. Guess I wouldn't be able to kiss Sam at midnight after all. The thought pained me, but I knew it was for the best. I sighed then and allowed Dean to wrap his arm around me. We were walking outside, around the front of the house, headed down the street, when I saw Derek. He was sitting in this gazebo alone save for a bottle of really cheap champagne to ring in the New Year. This surprised me, for Derek was anything but anti-social. He smiled and stood when he saw me.
I sped up my pace a little bit, and I saw Derek frown at me... Obviously, he'd seen Dean. He looked none too amused, nor did he look surprised. Had he known what I would find behind that door? That I would be broken up with Sam? Derek walked all the way over to the stairs to greet me. His hair was touseled; his skin scratched up by the thorns. There was a rose petal or two in his hair for dramatic effect. A few moments later, we reached Derek. He smiled at the fact that I was wearing the necklace he'd given me. Oddly enough, no one had asked about it. They merely accepted it was there, said it looked nice.
Derek smirked at me, and I instinctively shrugged Dean's arm off my shoulder. "So I guess you won't be kissing Sammy at midnight, then," He remarked softly, just stating it, not rubbing my face in it. Dean and I both nodded to that one. I sighed, unhappy at the mere thought of it. Then Derek fixed his gaze on the guy next to me. "Case, who's the lucky guy?" He asked bluntly, jerking his head towards Dean. I felt tears forming in my eyes, but I blinked them back, forcing a smile.
Thankfully, Dean took over from there. "Dean Thomas. And I'm hopelessly gay, so you can call off the death squad. I was just walking Casey here home since she dumped Sam's lazy, lying ass," He exclaimed quite enthusiastically, holding out a hand for Derek to shake. He reinforced his statement by checking Derek out so blatantly it made me blush. Derek didn't care. His wish had just come true. Derek actually grinned widely at the revelation, shaking Dean's hand with vigor. I should've warned Derek against it, considering that I honestly had no idea where that hand had been (although it was a safe wager that it had not been beneath the folds of Trashy Cassy's skirt). Derek was smiling dazzingly, wider than I had ever seen him.
He released Dean's hand, moving over towards me. "Derek Venturi. Casey's stepbrother," He mumbled distractedly, over his shoulder. Dean shot me an amused look, surprised that this was the Derek he'd heard so much about. He also might've been surprised that Derek was my stepbrother. Yeah... So was I.
Derek picked up something from the edge of the gazebo, holding it behind his back before I could get a glimpse of whatever the item was. He walked down the steps towards me, grabbing my wrist softly with the arm that wasn't behind his back. He peered down at my watch. 11:59, I noticed worriedly. Derek licked his lips, leaning towards me. I was terrified, and I didn't want to kiss him. Then Derek pulled the arm out from behind his back. He was holding one red rose he'd obviously stolen from the rosebush that had injured him. It was corny, but that didn't matter. All that mattered was that he was there, and it was midnight.
I grabbed Derek by the lapels of his jacket, roughly planting his lips on mine. I wrapped my arm around his neck, pulling him closer, kissing him bruisingly. The clock struck midnight somewhere off in the distance, and I pulled away from Derek, panting and stunned by what I'd just done. Derek looked at me with those dark, dangerous eyes, still half-closed from the first kiss. And then he exhaled deeply and crushed his lips against mine, hands wrapping around my waist, pulling me towards him. I felt the hot tears trailing down my face then, and I found myself crying for the first time in a long, long time. I hadn't cried back there when I'd seen Sam screwing around on me, but it had suddenly sunk in, now that I stood there, perched awkwardly on the stairs of the gazebo, kissing Derek. Something I swore I would never voluntarily do.
There wasn't much of anything to stop me now that Sam was gone, save our parents' wedding bands... And even that hadn't stopped Derek. The tears streamed down my face, but I kept kissing Derek, clinging to Derek... Holding on to his lapels like he was a lifeline. I didn't know what would happen if I let go. But eventually I did, and I started walking, Derek on my heels. Eventually, we were side by side.
We didn't say a word to each other all the way home, and Derek didn't try and touch me again.
But I held that rose Derek had given me in my hand so hard that my palm bled from the thorns... And I cried all the way home.
They say that the way you spend the first moments of the New Year sets the tone for the whole year. So what does that say about me? Does it say that I'll be helpless and with Derek for the rest of the year?
Happy New Year, Casey.
Loren ;
Reviews are highly appreciated!