So, I'm feeling better about this chapter. Still don't completely like it, but whatever. Anyways, just wanted to get this out before I go to France. I'm still not completely satisfied, but I'll probably never be satisfied, and I like it a lot better, confusing as it is. Bet you'll all wanna tear your hair out after this. ;)
Side Note: Who else hates the new credits? I just liked them before, when Casey wasn't dancing through all of them. They made more sense that way. And there were whack outfits (since when is Casey a cheerleader anyways? And, while I realize she dances, wouldn't she like, I dunno, make them all fall down or something?). Although Casey's hair is really, really great. Plus I'm kinda on the bubble about Derek's hair... Is it too long, or does it look okay? I'm kinda leaning towards too long. It was better when his bangs and hair were in general a little shorter. When his bangs were sorta roundish and... I dunno. It looked a bit better. Now he could have a ponytail. Mid-length, yes, that's good. Although the longer hair almost completely works with his jacket. Lol, makes me wonder why Casey doesn't call him Dereka anymore. Although really, I think they're both slacker parents. Nora is not a "keener". I mean, she really is a slacker. And what does she do for a living anyways? Nora doesn't really need to be a stay-at-home Mom, though. The kids are really too old for her to do much. Although Derek working the kissing booth... Classic.
Oh, and Casey is completely all over in this chapter, kind of like me in this author's note. But when I say that I mean it. She contradicts herself and gets mean and serious and sad and a lot of emotions. Anger, sadness, regret, bitterness, frustration, exhaustion... Speaking of exhaustion, I'm gonna get to the chapter.
I really hope you like it, since all of you seemed so eager to read it (BTW, I wrote this really fast). Enjoy!
"... Jump him."
I was in the curious stage between sleep and wakefulness. I was either just beginning to wake up or just beginning to doze off. Either way, my eyelids were heavy, and I was exhausted. I was sweaty and hot, like I'd just awoken from a bad nightmare. Strangely, I had no memory of such an occurrence. Sleepily, I was torn between getting a glass of water or going back to sleep. Instead, I shifted a little, burying my head in the pillow. I shut my eyes tight and tried to fall back asleep.
And then, like a leaden weight, an arm dropped around my waist, pulling me closer. Someone's nose brushed against my hair, and I could feel the heat radiating off this strange person behind me. I sucked in a deep breath, fear flooding every inch of my being. And then, like that, I was awake. I lifted my head off the pillow, awkwardly turning around to face the person who was too close for comfort. I nearly jumped out of my skin when I saw it was Derek... Not to mention one very naked Derek.
As in... Which meant... You know...
OH MY GOD, I HAD SEX WITH DEREK!!!!!!!!!!
I succumbed to his charms. He was right. I was suddenly bombarded by memories, awash in hazy flashes of what had happened mere moments before. So it was a real nightmare after all. Several particularly graphic flashes came to me, and I began to see why I'd repressed these. I tried to force back the memories, shove them back down in their little box, but they kept popping back out again at the most inopportune moments. I was starting to get a headache, and knowing that Derek was right next to me, sleeping, wasn't helping matters. Because in the end, despite all my promises (that I well-remembered I had made), Derek was right. He weaseled his way into my bed, and I gave in to him.
The only reason he was there was because I had said I wanted him there. I was horrified with myself. What the hell was I thinking? Even if Sam had broken up with me... That was no reason to... I was so wound up I couldn't string two thoughts together. I couldn't believe it, but there it was, staring me straight in the face. And knowing that for once, I couldn't blame Derek? That was the hardest, the worst part of all. I wanted to, but I'd asked for it, and if I tried to call him on it, he'd throw that back in my face. This time I couldn't pass the buck to Derek, I couldn't give him the responsibility. There was only myself to blame. The thought made me sick to my stomach, and I felt like I was going to throw up.
I was further disgusted by his proximity, the intimacy of his position... the way he was just so casually there, so at ease with me. It was obnoxious, like he was flaunting it. I was covered in his sweat and other bodily fluids, wrapped in his warmth and his scent. And all of this was nothing but repulsive to me. Any romantic charm it might've had was ruined by... who he was and how I felt about him. And I had let him commit the ultimate invasion of personal space. I had let him come inside me. I fought back a shudder of revulsion at the thought and had to swallow down the bile that threatened to come up. My throat hurt.
I had sex with him, had even fallen asleep a little by his side. It didn't get any more intimate than that. Too bad I didn't want to be anywhere near him. I didn't even want to see him ever again. I realize that makes me sound like an insensitive bitch. After all, I'd just had sex with the guy; you would think I'd cut him a break. But no, his mere presence disgusted me. I wasn't in love with him. I still hated him, and I still felt the blood boiling in my veins at the mere thought of his irritation. I did not want to be around him. His grip was possessive and suffocating and heavy; I wanted to throw him off of me, to kick him out of my bed and my room. I wanted to leave forever and move away to the ends of the earth where he could never find me.
Such an option, of course, was impossible. Derek was utterly inescapable, and unless Mom and George undergo a nasty divorce... I will have to see Derek again at some point in my lifetime, no matter what I do. My brain was racing with ideas of how to get away from him, each one crazier than the last. I ruled them out, one after the other. I was completely freaking out. I couldn't just ignore it this time! I couldn't make it go away! I couldn't take it back! Oh, what the hell had I been thinking?! I must've not been in my right mind when I... I can't even say it, and I don't want to! I'm not! I've clearly gone insane, snapped... That's it!
This is all a dream. You are imagining this, Casey. It is only happening in your mind. You're asleep. You don't even have a stepbrother, much less one named Derek. Your mother never married, let alone dated, a man named George Venturi. You've never even seen this house. This isn't your room. You're really at the condo in Toronto. Yes... And, while I'm at it, might as well raise Dad from the dead. This is hopeless.
I was confused, angry with myself, furious with Derek, pissed at Sam, disgusted with the both of us, and terrifically sad that Sam had dumped me. Not a good mixture of emotions, especially when you're trying to fix a fine mess like the one I'd helplessly slipped into. I couldn't even think, so how could I find a solution? I couldn't even keep my mind on anything but the fact that HOLY CRAP, I SCREWED DEREK! Understandably, it took me a while to realize that someone could walk in and see him here, which would be even more embarrassing. I feel dirty, and not just physically.
And damn, if I don't feel like a whore! To have been where so many other girls have been before me? With Derek? No sex with Derek is safe sex. It would be a wonder if I didn't catch something. What was I thinking? To think, I was a virgin before... Ooh, that means my stepbrother took my virginity. And I wanted him to... kinda. The thought was... so unbelievable. And disgusting. And pathetic. I gave myself up to a family member... willingly. How horrific! And worse yet, he'd said earlier that I would sleep with him. That it was inevitable, and I'd only proved him right. I wasn't gonna fall asleep, not now. That was what finally got me out of bed and out from under his arm. I wasn't going to literally sleep with him.
I sat up abruptly and tore myself away from him. I felt completely gross. I was almost out of the sheet when it occurred to me that I wasn't wearing anything, so I jerked the sheet off the bed, wrapping it around me. That was enough to wake Derek up. I knew I was going to have to wake him up at some point, but I didn't want to have to face him. It doesn't get any more awkward than this. I told myself it was better that he was up now, and it was. I would've had to get him out of here eventually. I couldn't let him sleep here forever. Someone would find him eventually, and it was better to get him out as soon as possible. No matter how awkward the scene was. It had to happen, and I couldn't just leave him there. It's my room, after all.
Derek sleepily opened his eyes and sat up, stretching like a cat. His skin was still shiny. I hated myself a little for staring at his chest like I did, but it was like I couldn't look away. He smiled at me innocently, sweetly even. The sheet hung low around his waist... too low, almost embarrassingly so. I'm gonna have to burn those sheets. He had this sappy, completely lovesick look on his face, and then I felt so awful. Because I was going to have to crush him. I almost didn't recognize him; he was happy, for once, not smug or smirking or proud. Just happy, incredibly happy, and I'd made him that happy. You think you know someone. I clutched the sheet tight around me, unable to speak. "Hey, Case." What could I possibly say?
Derek leaned over, adjusting the sheets around his waist, and pulled me over to him by the arm. He leaned up to kiss me so fast I couldn't stop him. He was a great kisser, but I wasn't going to let him distract me. I didn't want to be distracted. I pulled back almost immediately. I could not let him just suck me back into that hole. Derek frowned a little, confused. He looked like he was about to say something more, but I interrupted by placing a finger on his lips. But, oh, what to say? "Derek, you need to get out of here," I said urgently, shooting a worried glance towards my (locked!) door. I turned abruptly so I could miss Derek's face falling. He didn't understand, so I explained further. "Derek, someone could catch you here. You need to get back to your own room... NOW!" I hissed, trying to keep my voice down to avoid waking anyone else up.
After all, Lizzie's room was across from Derek's. Edwin was upstairs, and Marti was just down the hall. Either way he was going to have to sneak past Lizzie's room, and above all, I did not want him to get caught, exposing my weakness to the whole damn family! I pulled Derek up, attempting to look away so I didn't have to look at him naked. It wasn't that a naked Derek was repulsive to me; more like distracting me from my intention of forgetting. Derek already wasn't going to let me do that, so I had to forget what I could. Derek wrapped the sheet around his waist in an effort, I suppose, to make me feel more comfortable. His frown had deepened. Panicking, I started to push him towards the door. "Derek, seriously! You can't be here!" I exclaimed worriedly, hearing my voice getting higher. Derek was leaden and unmoving like a stone.
He gave me this pained look, stopping me by putting a hand on my waist. "Do you regret this?" He asked sincerely, looking me in the eyes. I felt completely awful. He really meant it, and I did regret it. I already regretted it more than just about anything I've ever done. I couldn't possibly lie to him. He would see straight through me. I had to reassure him somehow, to lie to him... But how could I? I just needed him out of my room, damn it! I didn't need the guilt trip, the tender parting scene. I didn't want to crush him completely; I'm not that heartless. And I did have sex with the guy. I owe him that much, don't I?
What is proper etiquette for this kind of situation? I wanted to look away from him, but then he'd know that I was lying. Instead I just frowned a little and pushed him towards the door. "No, Derek... It's not that. I... I just don't want them to find you here. You could get in trouble..." I argued as convincingly as I could, plastering a sympathetic look on my face. Derek wasn't buying it, but I needed time alone. He didn't budge, so I bent down and started collecting his clothes. I threw the clothes at him a few moments later. He merely raised an eyebrow, curious as to why I needed him out of my room so badly. "Der-ek," I cried exasperatedly, pouting a little. I grabbed his hand. "I just... Derek, I need some time by myself. I need to think about things," I murmured softly, biting down hard on my bottom lip. He looked disappointed, so I leaned in extra close. "I need this time alone, Derek. I need some space right now. Sam just dumped me, and now there's you... And I need to sort things out. Give me this time, and I promise I'll make it up to you later," I pleaded.
Only I didn't want to make it up to him later.
And then I kissed him hard on the mouth to punctuate my statement and distract him. I got a little too caught up in the moment, but eventually I managed to tear myself away from him. Derek smiled at me and dressed quickly and haphazardly. His shirt was only half-buttoned and buttoned wrong, while the pants weren't even zipped. His jacket was in his arms as I pushed him out the door. Okay, so I was a little anxious to get him out of there. I peered out the door nervously, watching Derek walk down the hallway. There was a stupid swagger in his step. I scowled and waited until he had entered his room. I felt like I had to watch him or else he wouldn't be gone. When he'd finally disappeared, I quietly shut the door behind me and crumpled to the floor.
I banged my head against the door twice. There I was, back against the door, wearing only a dirty sheet. I took a deep breath, closing my eyes for a minute to think. But as soon as I'd closed my eyes, the visions came back, so they shot open again. I rose to my feet decisively, striding over to my bed. I had to get rid of the evidence. I couldn't bare to look at the dirty sheets... to just leave them all messy like that, piled on the floor, sweat and stains clinging to them. I couldn't just leave them for someone to find. I had to wash away the filth. In a flash, I stripped my bed, even the pillowcases. I threw all the sheets into a pile on the floor. Derek could still be up. It would be suspicious for me to wash them right now. I wasn't comfortable walking around naked in my room, so I picked up the clothes off my floor and pulled them on. I grabbed some new clothes and headed to the bathroom.
I made sure to shut the door behind me so no one saw my dirty laundry. I glanced down the hallway to see if Derek was anywhere in sight. I wasn't willing to check to see if he was asleep, risking another awkward conversation. Heaven forbid... Who would've thought I would ever see the day when Derek was actually asking about my feelings? The hallway was completely deserted. I snuck down the hall and dashed into the bathroom, feeling like a thief. I turned the water on, twisting the knob back all the way so that the water would be extra hot. I had to wait a while for the water to heat up, so I set my clothes down and started to unzip my dress. I thought I'd locked the door when it suddenly opened.
Derek came in, of course. I was having a bit of trouble with my dress, so he came over and helped me unzip it. He unzipped it easily, planting a stream of kisses down my back and smiling wickedly. I stiffened underneath his mouth; I was not in the mood. I thought I'd gotten rid of him earlier! Why couldn't he just let me be and sleep like a normal person? I didn't jump, but I pushed Derek away nonetheless. I pushed him away firmly, forcing a smile on my lips. "Derek," I muttered through tight lips, feeling myself tense up, "I thought I told you to go to bed." Derek smiled mischievously before pressing his lips against mine lightly, again and again.
He shrugged. "Have you ever known me to listen?" He mumbled flirtatiously, in between kisses. It was hard for me to push him off, partly because he was a very, very good kisser, and partly because he kept beating me to the punch only to do it again. When Derek kissed me, things got all muddled for me, and then I didn't want to pull away sometimes. Luckily for me, my brain was stronger than my libido. I managed, after a good while, to push Derek away for good. Admittedly, I was completely breathless and not thinking, and, thus, vulnerable, but I was even more determined not to repeat my mistake. Derek's eyes grew suspicious. "Why you need to shower, Case?" Derek asked in a carefully measured tone.
He was catching on to me, and I couldn't let him. But I couldn't say the truth... that I wanted to wash him off of me. I shook my head at him, frustrated. "Der-ek! I want to shower, and I want to shower alone. So out! Go to bed!" I shouted, paying no attention whatsoever to my volume control. I was pissed off and tired, tired of Derek. Derek scowled at me, but I shoved him towards the door nonetheless. "Derek, you are not getting lucky in this bathroom," I said sternly. His frown deepened, and I sighed, feeling frustrated. "I need to shower. Look at me, Derek. I'm gross," I continued bluntly. My hair was a mess. My make-up was smeared. Moreover, I was covered in Derek... his smell, his sweat, his... You get the picture. So I felt like total crap.
Derek, though, he just looked me over and got this big smirk on his face. At first I thought he was making fun of me, but that wasn't it. Then he smiled, really smiled, the kind that goes from ear to ear. "You're beautiful, Casey," He whispered before hugging me tightly. He would've kissed me, but I turned so he couldn't. The way he said it, it sounded like he meant it. He gave me a sloppy kiss on the cheek before we finally parted, and the look he gave me when he walked out that door, actually doing as I asked for once... It was nice, heartbreakingly so, almost. Sam had never looked at me like that, and... the way Derek was looking at me, it was like he was the luckiest guy in the world. And I'd made him feel that way, but I didn't feel like that at all. And he was just so damn happy to be in my presence even if I was pushing him away.
It was like I didn't even know him anymore. He was defying all logic... Derek-logic, that is. You can't apply normal logic to Derek Venturi. I hated that I felt guilty whenever I looked at him. He just had to be so... nice. Which completely shoots to Hell everything I ever thought I knew about Derek. When Derek left, I locked the door and finished undressing, throwing the clothes on the floor carelessly. I stepped in the water, which was boiling... so hot it hurt me to stay in it. My skin burned, turned red, and it hurt. Oh, it hurt. But I deserved every fiery drop of the pain pounding down on me... my head, my back, my legs. It was a just punishment for my hypocrisy.
I had sworn vehemently that I would never sleep with him, that I would rather die. And yet I had. I kept thinking of that night, or, rather, only ours ago. I grabbed the soap with force, scrubbing my skin near raw. It hurt to think about it. All I wanted was to be clean. My thoughts kept going 'round and 'round, and I was trying to wash it all away. But the visions kept coming back, haunting me. I stared my own hypocrisy clear in the face, and I didn't like what I saw. I'd sworn for so long, and... and yet, when I saw Sam in flagrante delicto... I said I'd rather have sex with Derek than him. After all, I would be less likely to catch a disease with Derek. At least he was safe... usually. Not tonight. I hated that I remembered that, but even more, I hated the fact that I could possibly be carrying Derek's kid by now. The fact that his seed was in my womb still, fertilization or not, disgusted me so much that I nearly vomited.
I guess that one fatal statement turned out to be a self-fulfilling prophecy. After all, here it was, not even twenty-four hours later and I'd already had sex with Derek. Had it even been five hours? But the more I think about it, the more I think that this was the way it hard to be. And as sickened as I was with myself, as full of self-loathing as I was... I almost think I needed to do it. I kept scrubbing at my skin, trying to get the feeling of Derek off of me. I remembered the way his body felt on mine. I remembered every last, lurid detail. I think I needed that, as much as I wish I could... I don't know... undo it. I needed something hard to start me on the path to getting over Sam. I needed to do it to somehow pay him back. And Derek did that for me, so I owe him for that. After all, what better form of revenge was there than having sex with my cheating ex' best friend?
None, of course. Still, I felt like a complete whore, and I was so utterly terrified that I could be unwittingly carrying a Derek Junior. I didn't even want to think of it. The hot water soothed my tense, pained muscles. My muscles were stiff; in my little encounter with Derek, I'd managed to tear muscles I wasn't even aware I'd had. The warm water helped by distracting me from the pain with its heat while helping loosen up my muscles. But the pain didn't go away, not entirely. The torn bits of me ached and swelled. My knees wavered; it hurt to stand for so long. But I gritted my teeth and held myself up high. Derek had left a mottled series of bruises down my neck, across my chest, anywhere he could. He wanted to mark me, I think, and I looked like a target, red and purple all over.
Water ran down my face, and I couldn't tell if it was the beginning of tears or merely the shower. Then I leaned against the wall, too tired to properly support myself for too long. And one minute I was shaking violently and crying silently. Suddenly I was sobbing hysterically, and I didn't really know why. I thought I'd cried myself all out earlier, but the tears came again, hot and fast. They streamed down my face, blurring my vision. I felt so dirty and so... low. But my thoughts all came back to Derek in the end, and the mere thought of him was enough to make me start sobbing with renewed vigor. I kept thinking of what I'd done, what I'd actually agreed to... And I was completely mortified and ashamed. Ashamed I'd said yes, ashamed I lied, ashamed of what I'd done, ashamed I'd practically begged for it, and even ashamed that I had used Derek, intentionally or not.
I sank to the ground of the shower as my knees gave out on me. And then I pulled my knees up to my chest and laid my head down on them and sobbed as hard as I could. I knew I couldn't cry in public, not after what I'd done with Derek. I couldn't cry about it in front of Derek. It would be some great affront to him to know how... deeply and terribly this had affected me. That's the problem in having sex with someone you live with. They can see you just about every waking minute of the day, so you have to be on guard and watch yourself. Can't let the guard down for even one minute. Derek was free to observe my every action, and if he wanted to... He could never leave me alone. So I used up those moments alone, the last I would truly have for a while. I don't know how long I cried; it seemed an eternity. I cried until I stopped, until I could rise. I stood and washed my hair, then I turned off the water and left the warm safety of the shower.
I wrapped a towel around myself, uncomfortable with my own nakedness. I toweled off my hair and dressed quickly to avoid looking at myself. I left the tainted green party dress in the bathroom. I turned off the lights, dashing to my room. I collected the laundry from my room, throwing my undergarments in with the sheets. All that washing and I didn't feel clean. I wondered idly if my sheets would be the same way. Then I took the bundle down to the laundry room and started a load of clothes mindlessly. I added a little bit more detergent than I'd normally use because the sheets were that much dirtier. After that, I grabbed some fresh sheets, went upstairs and remade my bed.
Even after it had new, fresh sheets, I couldn't sleep in it. I didn't even want to be in the room. I felt somehow like I could smell the sex in the air or something equally ridiculous. Either way, the thoughts wouldn't leave me. So I opened a window and went downstairs. I made myself a sandwich and watched TV until I could take the clothes out of the washer. By then, it was really late; it had to be a little past four. Physically, mentally, and emotionally, I was utterly exhausted, but I couldn't sleep. Every time I shut my eyes, there would flash a picture, an image of me and Derek. And then, like that, my eyes would bolt open in horror, and something would prevent them from closing in sheer exhaustion. Eventually, though, I dragged my tired body up to move the wet laundry into the drier, hauling myself back to the couch to watch some more TV. Some old movie was on; I was so tired I could barely follow it. When the load of laundry was dry, I retrieved it, folded it, and stashed the sheets in the linen closet. I put my clothes away, retreating once again to the couch because I couldn't stand my own room. I didn't want to have to sleep in Derek's filth... on the same freaking mattress that he'd screwed me on.
Eventually, though, I managed to keep my eyes closed long enough to fall asleep. When I woke up a few hours later, I was covered in a blanket, and it was around nine-thirty. I stretched sleepily and walked into the kitchen. I was starving. I hadn't eaten much of anything at the party, so I'd gone well over twelve hours without sustenance of any kind. Besides, having sex sure did wonders for the appetite. I walked nonchalantly into the dining room, although I should've known I would stand out like a sore thumb. They're used to me waking up at seven every day. I never sleep in.
It was weird, too, for whatever reason, but I hadn't expected Derek to be there. I really hadn't. I'd kind of thought I could just avoid him forever. So of course Derek was there, mouth full of pancakes. As I froze the minute I laid eyes on him, I was glad he couldn't talk. God, this was awkward now. I could only imagine how terrifying it would be to be alone with him. I had to keep moving, though, or the family would get suspicious, so I tore my eyes away from Derek and went to go get pancakes for myself. Maybe if I just focused on my food I wouldn't have to talk to Derek. I grabbed a glass of milk and set my food down on the table. Naturally, I was seated across from Derek. What was I to do, then, if he wanted to play footsie with me? It was like God was playing a cruel joke with me, punishing me for what I'd done.
"Hiya, Casey!" Marti interjected cheerfully. I smiled at her as best as I could, bending down to pat her warmly on the head. It was an awkward, painful smile. A guilty "I had sex with your big brother" smile. I felt the pit in my stomach sink lower still. Mom and George greeted me warmly, fondly calling me "sleepyhead" and staring at me with innocent, unknowing eyes. I felt sick to my stomach. Lizzie also said hello, and I noticed a strange, curious look in her eye. She shot a glance to Edwin; they were always spying on someone. I gave her a lackluster good morning and returned moodily to staring at my food. I couldn't look her in the eye anymore, not after what I'd done. I was so much of a hypocrite. Marsha indeed. I stabbed at my dry pancake. I was starving, but I had no appetite. The thought of maple syrup, sugar-sweet and sticky, made me gag. Just thinking of last night disgusted me so much that I didn't want to eat again. I was choking on my own stupidity. Edwin smiled at me lopsidedly, babbling on about some science experiment. I faked a smile, which fell as soon as I turned my face downcast. Derek didn't even bother to say hello, like he thought it would give him away. Then again, I didn't want to see him, let alone talk to him. Maybe he knew that.
I kept my eyes on my food as much as possible, just waiting for the moment when someone would bring up Sam. No one but Derek even knew I'd broken up with him. I tensed, just waiting for Derek to say something. I could sense the words on his lips, ready to form. And I had all these words bubbling up inside of me, waiting to be said. I stuffed the food in my mouth fast so I wouldn't have to talk. I gulped down milk so I wouldn't have to answer the inevitable questions, but the questions were just that... inevitable. I couldn't avoid them, even despite my best efforts. "So, Casey, did you kiss Sam at midnight last night?" Mom asked in what she thought was a coy, playful tone of voice.
That made me glance up, unintentionally locking eyes with Derek. A look of understanding passed between the two of us, but Derek refrained from commenting. So I cut another slice of the pancake and took a deep breath. Someone had to tell her, and it was going to be me. I was tempted to say, "No, Mom. I kissed Derek at midnight." But I didn't because I couldn't. So instead, I merely cleared my throat and started to talk. "Actually, Mom... Sam and I broke up last night," I said in a calm, cool, casual voice. I inserted a piece of pancake into my mouth and blinked like it was nothing. But I was not so unaffected. My fingers didn't shake as I handled the fork and knife, but I wasn't okay. I glanced back down at my plate because I didn't want to see their sympathetic looks. I didn't want to feel their pity.
However, while I didn't look up and see it, I felt it nonetheless. "I'm so sorry!" Mom exclaimed sincerely, horrified she'd made a (bad) joke about it. I just shrugged, preferring not to dwell on it. It's bad enough he broke my heart; I don't want to dwell on it. I glanced up somewhat awkwardly, feigning nonchalance as best as I could. It was hard to do. I wished instead that they wouldn't talk about it so I could get it off my mind. As much as I love my mother, my sister, and our new little family... They don't know when to let anything alone, and by trying to help me, they're only going to make it worse. I don't want to rehash details.
"You didn't know," I muttered distractedly, shoving more pancake in my mouth. I was ravenously hungry, so the pancakes tasted like the best food I had ever eaten. I was not one to find comfort in food, but it was nice to be able to sit at the kitchen table with my blended family like nothing had happened. It was strangely normal, even peaceful, that morning, in a way it never was in this household. While I was eating, it was almost like Sam hadn't cheated on me, like I hadn't slept with Derek, like I was happy again. If I'm being honest, though, I haven't been happy since last year, before we moved in with the Venturis. I'd almost wish Mom hadn't met and married George, but I'm not selfish enough to wish away her happiness.
I could tell that Mom or George was going to offer up some more platitudes or apologies, like meaningless words of advice would make it all better. But they wouldn't; they couldn't. Words were just words. I didn't want to hear some stupid cliché when I knew it wasn't going to cheer me up. Time heals all wounds... blah, blah, blah. The apologies, though, were even worse. As far as I'm concerned, regardless of the politeness of the gesture, you apologize when you've done something wrong. Mom didn't make me break up with Sam. She wasn't the person who tore us apart. She had done nothing wrong, and the whole thing was Sam's fault. Neither Mom nor George could've stopped him. I wanted him to apologize. It's not her fault he's an asshole, so offering apologies in his name was just insulting.
I brought my chin up, eyes defiant and tear-free. "I'm not," I said so venomously, so bitterly that everyone suddenly looked at me. Their eyes were all full of surprise and disbelief, except Derek's. An odd sort of pride gleamed in Derek's eyes, the traces of a burgeoning smirk formed on his lips. Everyone had been stunned into silence save Derek, who was too wise this time around to say something. It's a good thing he didn't. I might've snapped at him. "I broke up with him, and it was the right thing to do," I stated plainly, bluntly. I wasn't going to let them think I was so pathetic that Sam had dumped me. I don't regret it. I regret that it had to end that way; I regret that I slept with Derek, but I didn't have a choice about the break-up. I didn't want to end it, but I didn't want to be humiliated either. He cheated on me; I had to end it. Derek was on the verge of a smile, a sickeningly victorious, happy one that I didn't want to see, knowing I'd been the one to put it on his face.
I shot him a sharp glance, returning to my pancakes. Better give them a chance to pick their jaws up off the floor. George was completely speechless. I saw the way he exchanged nervous glances with Edwin. I don't know why they're all so surprised; we broke up damn near every other week. Maybe it's because I'm not a complete sobbing basketcase this time around, and so they don't know what to do. Or maybe it's because they've realized that it's for good this time. Mom could sense I was mad; I heard her gulp before she asked another one of those damn inevitable questions. "Why..." She began before trailing off, already at a loss for words. I rolled my eyes, but she didn't see me. Mom can be such a ditz sometimes. "What happened?" Mom questioned in a soothing voice. Still, there was that underlying hint of curiosity hidden in her tone, and I didn't want to satisfy it. It's my break-up; why do I have to answer questions about it? It's not like there's a gray area. He was cheating on me. I had to dump his sorry ass or play the fool.
I glanced up, exchanging a look with Derek. He looked almost sympathetic. He knew I didn't want to waste my time answering stupid questions and having everyone coo over me. I stiffened a little. Mom had asked me mid-sip, so I swallowed my milk and calmly put the glass down before answering. "He was cheating on me, and I caught him redhanded," I replied coolly, even frostily. This time, almost spitefully, I looked up to see the shock and horror on their faces. Mom gasped, surprised my perfect boyfriend turned out to be so flawed. The pity hadn't sunk in yet. Since there were children present, I didn't mention that I'd walked in on him fingering the school slut while a guy gave him oral sex in the bathroom. I should've known, too. All the signs were there, and I stubbornly refused to see them. I turned abruptly to face Derek, who suddenly snapped to attention. I swallowed my pride and spoke the truth. "Derek, I was wrong. I should have believed you. You were right," I said urgently and honestly, surprising everyone in the room. It was the closest thing he was getting to an apology.
Hell froze over last night when I had sex with Derek, so it's not that illogical. You can bet, though, that that is the only time I am ever admitting that I was wrong... much less to Derek.
If they were surprised before, they were even more surprised now. In fact, a cursory glance around the table confirmed my suspicions. Everyone except Derek was gaping at me open-mouthed, disbelief etched into every feature. Surprise glittered in Derek's eyes, but he didn't show it like the others. He frowned a bit, even managing to look a bit sad he'd been right. "I didn't want to be, Case," Derek murmured apologetically, giving me a look so unapologetically tender and downright loving that I did a double-take. Was this really Derek? I could tell he wanted to lean across the table and do something stupid like grab my hand in an attempt to comfort me, but it was a big table. And I kicked him hard under the table to remind him that the whole family was witnessing this. I took my hand off the table so he didn't get any funny ideas.
I finished breakfast in a blissful yet awkward silence (not that I minded). My mind cleared, and I didn't have to think about Sam... or Derek. It was nice to have a mind just completely devoid of thoughts for a change. For once in my life, I didn't give a damn about what anyone else thought about me. It was amazing how normally things went on... as if last night, that terrible night, had never happened. I rinsed off my plate, emptied my glass, and set them both down on the counter like nothing had changed. Lizzie was the first to talk to me. She just walked up to me and said it outright. "Casey, you look horrible," She proclaimed, glancing at me briefly. That, of all things, made me smile. I didn't need her to tell me that, but I nodded anyways. Why not, I thought? I felt horrible.
"I didn't get much sleep last night," I grunted, grimacing. I felt Derek's eyes burning into my back, but I didn't turn around to dignify the crude things he was thinking. I wasn't up all night thinking about him. I was up all night thinking about just how screwed up I am. And what the hell was I thinking? And... I need to stay away from boys. Lizzie patted me on the back, gave me a sympathetic look and told me to go sleep in her room. I smiled and ruffled her hair. I have a really great little sister. See how she didn't even ask why I was sleeping on the couch or suggest I go to my room? And that after I said all those awful things to her about Edwin. I felt a pang of guilt; I really didn't deserve Lizzie sometimes.
I wonder if she knows. I shuddered at the thought and almost ran up the stairs. I didn't want Derek to corner me. Don't get me wrong, I knew we were eventually going to have to talk and sort things out. I just wanted to prolong that and perhaps prevent it from happening. I don't feel the same as Derek, and I didn't want to say I used him... because then I'm no better than him. So I went into Lizzie's room and tried to fall asleep.
Although I closed my eyes, my mind was still awake. And still thinking about what had transpired earlier.
Funny, isn't it? My on-again/off-again boyfriend and I had broken up again... probably for good. I caught him cheating on me with not just another girl, but a boy too. I loved Sam, and I still love him. Yeah, that was a lie too. All this and I wasn't even thinking about Sam. He hadn't even crossed my mind other than that stupid conversation over breakfast. Derek was the one on my mind, going 'round and 'round in circles. Derek, Derek, Derek. He was on my mind an unhealthy amount before I even... before last night, when I was still with Sam, but now it was a hundred times worse. I'd had sex with him, led him on, used him in my own nasty way. He was in love with me... insanely and despite all rationality... and he thought I reciprocated somehow.
I don't even know why I did it. Why did I have sex with Derek? I was in a bad place last night... vulnerable. I didn't know what I wanted. My first love had cheated on me, and all rationality and faith in people had just flown out the window for me. But Derek was there. That was the problem. He was there, and he cared. He cared; someone cared, and Sam... didn't. I wanted someone to love me, but not just that... I wanted that great romantic love, the fairytale love. I was selfish and hungry and starved for love. Hell, I wanted someone who actually gave a damn about me. Just for a few lousy hours. I wanted someone who thought the world of me. Someone that loved me so much he wouldn't care how lousy I treated him. I wanted to have power over someone.
I thought it would help, like maybe a guy would want me if I wasn't so damn frigid. Because that's what Derek said, and what I always secretly knew. Sam wanted to get laid. That's why he cheated on me. And never mind that he never brought it up. He still wanted it, and the cheating proved it. So I guess women are just expected to give a guy whatever he wants. And I gave Derek what he wanted, but I did it under my own terms at least. I have mostly myself to blame. Still, he could've said no! He could've protested. He could've fought harder. He could've walked right out that door... but he chose to stay. He was selfish and chose to stay. I will never forgive him for that. He'll say he tried, sure, but in the end he's just like every other male out there: a pathological liar. He tried, but only so much... only enough so he could look good when I brought it up in an argument. So he could paint me as the whore. He was so desperate for it, to have a piece of me that he didn't even care how I felt! Not that Derek ever gave a damn about how I felt. No, he just kept pushing and pushing until I broke, and he got what he wanted.
But what about what I wanted?
What Derek wants, Derek always gets. Even me. But what about me? What about Casey? What about her?! Did she matter at all? Wasn't my decision important too? Why was I stuck accommodating him and his wishes again?
The crux of it is this:
He took advantage of me!!! Sure, I said yes at the time, but I didn't mean it! I didn't know what I was getting into! I'm not sure I even meant to... I was just confused and he was there. He was there, and he wanted me. So I lied and said I wanted him too, but I always knew I didn't. I knew I'd regret it, but I was so desperate for... for what, exactly?
I didn't want to, and I did at the same time, but that doesn't matter because I did it anyways.
Like a cheap, common street whore.
And it was stupid because it didn't make me better. I didn't feel better. It was good in the moment, but... It caused more problems than I had to begin with. Derek was in the right place at the right time, and he felt the right way. But stupid Derek had to grow some morals, so I had to talk him into it. I lied his way into my bed, into me. I said everything he wanted to hear, talked him into it. I became Derek, not just a part of him. We'd somehow switched roles with me being the instigator and him being the reluctant one, the denier. Only I didn't want to play that part; it wasn't me. I was just another big fat notch on Derek's belt. The ultimate challenge effectively conquered; Derek triumphs once again!
I wanted love, but I wasn't that desperate. It wasn't just that. If I really get down and dirty, it's really all about having power and control. I had complete control over Derek. I could've made him do anything I wanted to do. Just look at the way he acts now... even more in love with me. The sucker! Is he stupid? How many times have I told him that I don't, can't, and won't love him? I'm not gonna renege on my promises in one night, regardless of how Derek was in the sack. The way I feel hasn't changed one bit.
I had control of my own life for that shining hour or so. There was no Derek to thwart me and subjugate me. I got what I wanted, even if I didn't really want it. And for once, Derek didn't matter. I didn't even have to consider him. Control was really what I wanted. I wanted to control a man, to hurt a man. I wanted all the perks of the love minus the emotional attachment. Yes, I know how cynical that sounds. But I don't exactly believe in true love anymore. Besides, even if it exists, it doesn't work in my favor. I love Sam, and look how that ended up. Derek only thinks he loves me. By the time I'm done with him, he won't even want to be in the same room with me. I will break him and tame him, and then I will crush him. And then I will crumple him up and throw him away because, like a disposable tissue, he means nothing to me. He's just an outlet.
But it's not even just that control I lust after. And it's not Derek either. Revenge is what I wanted, and I got it. Sam doesn't even know, but it's so much sweeter that he doesn't. After all, there's no better revenge than screwing your ex' best friend. Especially if it's well-known that you never liked him and never slept with your boyfriend. Bet it'd taste bitter in Sam' mouth to know that Derek had me (and first)... when he never had and never would. I let out a bitter, amused laugh at the thought. If Sam can screw a whore, then so can I. Ha. Sweet, sweet revenge. In your face, Sam.
That was the best, most delicious part, the whole time knowing I was getting revenge on Sam. It was so self-gratifying to know that this was what it felt like. To give Sam a taste of his own bitter medicine, even if he'd never know. It was almost sweet, really.
But I wasn't such a bitch, and I wasn't so heartless, and I wasn't not completely broken up about it. I won't deny the fact that all of those awful things ran through my mind, and I even felt the littlest bit bad, the littlest bit guilty for thinking them. But I didn't owe Derek anything... not honesty and not love. Like repays like. He'd treated me ill for too long for me to not relish in it, just a little, the thrilling power I had over him and his heart. I couldn't be like I was before, and I had only men to blame for it. Dad wasn't around to protect me, Uncle Dennis left and didn't look back, George brought me to this hell-hole, Sam broke my heart, and Derek drove me insane. I wasn't gonna put all my trust and faith in some lousy, good-for-nothing guy. I resented Derek a lot. It wasn't fair to level all the blame on him, but he was the one who'd made me like this. I hadn't been the same since I'd moved in here, and I hadn't been happy. And it was all Derek's damn fault. Everything was always Derek's fault.
All this talk about sex, and I haven't even talked about the actual act once. I've been trying not to think about it. I'm- I was... a virgin. Thanks a lot, Derek. It didn't happen like I wanted it to. Derek was a little drunk, I think. I could still taste the liquor in his kiss. His kisses burned like a wildfire, searing all my senses. He didn't give in easily like I thought he would. That, like everything, was yet another battle of wills. Ironic, then, that mine was stronger. My only thought was just getting it over with... not love, not pleasure, not even really hurt. I wanted it over and done with; I wanted my virginity gone like that. But Derek didn't go fast at all. He took things slow, slower than he normally would. He was patient and polite and tender and romantic, and all those wonderful things, like a seducer of women should be. He took his time, lavished affection on me, made it last. That's why it's burned into my memory. With him, he made every moment count.
I actually enjoyed it, but I guess that was Derek's intention, wasn't it? I won't lie; he was a pro. He really knew exactly what he was doing, easing me into it like a teacher. I was almost impressed. I wanted it; I welcomed it. I even sort of needed it. I responded to it like a gleeful little whore, always craving more. I laid back like a soldier and took everything that he had to offer. It didn't happen just one time. There were many times. We went at it for hours, I think. It felt like an eternity to me, a sort of pleasurable torture. And I couldn't leave the bed for some reason. Derek was absolutely tireless. He threw all of himself into it, exerted all the force he had. Yet he was gentle with me, not rough as I'd expected he'd be. His hands were soft against my skin, and he left few bruises except the kisses across my chest, collarbone, and neck. His touch was light, sweet, not bruising. For once, he wasn't even remotely angry with me. He just stared back into my eyes, a soft smile on those lips that loved to kiss me. He embraced me; he kissed me, and he made love to me. Real love, I could tell, not the phony stuff.
But my feelings changed little, if they had even changed at all. I saw him now as merely tolerable, even gentlemanly. I was surprised that he treated women so well; I'd been so very wrong about him. He didn't make me feel like a whore while I was there, lying beneath him, lying with him. But I was one nonetheless. It made me like every other girl, and sometimes I really did want to be every other girl. It didn't feel like he'd done this to every other girl at school as he rained kisses down my face. Yet I could not get caught up in these illusions. I knew there were other girls; I'd heard them with my own ears. I was not like his girls, loud, giggly, raucous. I was quiet, only letting an occasional breathy gasp escape me, or a low moan or two. Derek was noisy in his own way, but quietly. He moaned softly, grunted, exhaled in relief. And I was glad he was quiet. I didn't want my sister to hear him, and she was just down the hall, as was Marti. How scarring would that be?
There was only the moonlight to see by, but by the end, I knew every feature of Derek's anatomy by heart... by touch. Parts of me almost cried out for him- almost, but not quite. I was not yet so low that I would mewl to get his attention. I whimpered once, the time he'd first thrust into me, and I'd felt completely torn up inside. I had been completely torn up inside, broken forever. I felt utterly empty too, devoid of feelings, even as Derek filled me up slowly, one step after the next; I smiled at the irony. I did not love him, but I was moved to a sense of gratitude to him, even companionship, some admiration. But I did not respect him a whit more. Every time he thrust into me I drew in a sharp breath, and every time he pulled out, I exhaled heavily, waiting for his return. But even as he made me delirious with pleasure, so sated and so euphoric that I could not remember my own name (and Derek was very, very, very good at that), I didn't change. I didn't relent. I just succumbed (there is a difference)and felt a burst of warmth for him, but that faded with the afterglow.
Maybe that was why Derek tried to keep it going for as long as I could stand it. Until I was raw and dry and exhausted. My skin was hot, my face flushed, my eyelids heavy. The sheets were sticky with sweat and bodily fluids. And I could not breathe, not even draw one real breath. I was winded and panting. My chest heaved, and I collapsed, pulling away from him to find my breath again. He was good at what he did, and incredible in bed. This I knew, but I could've known it before actually experiencing it. I was a virgin before, so of course I'd idealize it, even if it wasn't the ideal situation.
The ideal situation, what I wanted, was nothing like what actually happened. It bore no resemblance to it whatsoever, in fact. The ideal situation would've been my wedding night, in the Honeymoon suite, with my new husband, my soulmate, the man I loved most in the world. It wasn't my wedding night. We were in my bedroom, a far cry from the Honeymoon Suite, with our siblings surrounding us. He was my stepbrother, and my boyfriend had just dumped me. Derek was neither a husband nor a soulmate. I wanted rose petals, scented candles, soft, romantic music, warmth, silk sheets, and privacy. I got silence, the sound of the pipes and the heater. I got a chill over my skin even underneath thin, worn cotton sheets, an old comforter, and we almost didn't get under them. The air smelled like my room, the way it always did. And the only warmth I felt was that of his body on mine. The only privacy I had was my locked door. It was all wrong.
While we might've connected on that physical level, we didn't mesh at any other. The physical stuff was easy; all I had to do was give in to my instincts, and let Derek guide me. It was a meaningful act, that I knew... had always known. But it did nothing, nothing at all to bind me closer to Derek. He'd only seen me naked and memorized the feel of my skin and been inside me. He didn't see who I really was at heart. We were not one, despite the momentary connection, because he could pull out, and we would still be separate people. I didn't need him to leave; I just needed him for that time. We weren't of one mind, and we didn't feel the same. It wasn't this intimately personal thing like I thought it would be. It was empty, just an act, some pleasure, but nothing lasting... nothing I could hold on to. It wasn't worth it. Not when it didn't mean a thing. All it meant was that someone wanted me and that I wasn't a virgin anymore.
The sex itself wasn't bad, but then again, how would I know? It was good, maybe even better than good, and it was easy for me to get lost in it. It was so much easier to give in than to fight him. But it wasn't like I was having sex with him. It was like I was someone else. Derek was someone else too. He was the exact opposite of everything I'd ever known him to be... tame, quiet, sweet, slow, lovestruck. Still, I sure turned the tables on Derek, now, didn't I? I don't want to think about it anymore. I don't want to do it again. All I want is to be left alone. Having sex with Derek was a mistake, and I'd take it back if I could. But I can't, so I just have to live with it. I'm not too good at just living with something, especially if that something's Derek. But I'll manage because I don't have a choice.
It hurts. I hurt.
And I wanted to have sex with someone I loved. That's all I wanted. But I didn't love Derek, and the guy I loved didn't love me... so I settled and just got the damn thing over with, ripped the band-aid off, well on my way to pretending that it didn't matter. But it did.
Yet despite all these thoughts floating around in my head, I managed to catch a few hours of blissful dreamless sleep. It's really amazing what sheer exhaustion will do to you. When I woke up several hours later, Derek was standing over me, watching me sleep. I don't know how long he stood there, but his face was expressionless. I opened my eyes and said nothing, merely staring at him as if daring him to speak. I was watching him wordlessly; neither of us said a word. Finally, Derek broke the silence. "Casey, we need to talk," Derek began ominously. It would've been ominous, I should say, were Derek and I in an actual relationship. He couldn't dump me, and it wasn't like I cared anyways. I'd only had sex with him, and a one-night stand does not a relationship make, especially with a guy like Derek. I wasn't expecting anything from him, and even if he made an offer, I wouldn't accept it or want it. I nodded in agreement and sat up slowly, feeling a little woozy.
I didn't know whether I should speak first or let Derek do the talking. Actually, I didn't even know what I could possibly say to Derek. I knew I would have to lie or at least camouflage the truth, though, so I waited for him to make the first move, so I could better size up my competition. I wanted to say something that would match what he said. He didn't smile, but I knew Derek was so happy about it. Honestly, though, I didn't expect much of a conversation. I didn't think he'd care after I'd given him the leverage he had over me. Besides, he was Derek, after all. I thought the conversation would sound like a typical break-up, only I could throw it in his face that I didn't even care and would love for him to leave me alone. I was all prepared to say this, but Derek surprised me. "Casey, I... I don't really know what to say. I know that you need time to think because what happened with Sam is all too fresh, but I need to know where we stand," Derek murmured with a surprising honesty. He glanced down almost shyly.
Derek was anything but shy, so this all came as a big surprise to me. For one thing, he'd actually listened to my request for time, although he failed to see that it was really just a way of stalling. For another, where we stand? Does he even know what that means? Where did we stand? I wondered what to say. I didn't want to say the wrong thing, but I didn't really know what he was asking, and I knew that a shrug wouldn't be appropriate. "I don't know," I said truthfully, licking my dry lips. I played with my hair, which was a mess of curls from sleep and air-drying. I was nervous that I would say the wrong thing; I didn't want to be too cruel. Derek had, after all, been there for me at a very rough time, and he'd been so kind to me. I felt a sort of obligation to him, even though he disgusted me. He was my brother, and I hated that I had to remind myself of that. He didn't feel like my brother though, not ever. He was always too old, too cocky, and entirely too... Derek... for me to believe that and accept him as my brother like I could do for Edwin. I tried in the beginning, but he just didn't fit in my life. Try as I might, I could never picture him as my brother because our lack of blood relation was only too obvious. We had nothing in common. I felt like such a hypocrite. It seemed like only minutes ago that I was telling Lizzie not to get involved with Edwin, playing tricks with her head. And what right have I to do that when I screwed Derek? I guess I was just trying to protect Lizzie from what I went through. I know Edwin's not that type of guy, but I can see it in his eyes... How much he wants to be Derek. How much he resents Derek and fears Derek and admires him all at the same time, and how much he hates that he has dark hair and dark eyes and an awkwardness about him that Derek doesn't have.
Understandably, what I said didn't seem to relax Derek, so he sat down next to me on my bed, strangely sober. He turned to look at me. "Casey, we can be whatever you want. It's your dec..." Derek offered, cutting himself off using the same words I'd used last night to trick him into bed. I'm so disgusted with myself; I can't believe I actually did that. How low can you go? Last night I could've won a limbo contest. My decision... right. I was backed up against a wall with no options, and I knew it. I was like a scared, hurt animal who lashes out because it's all it can do to protect itself. I had to control or be controlled. Derek cleared his throat and attempted to continue. "If you want me, I'm yours... If you don't..." His voice trailed off, closing the option to me. I wanted to know what I'd have then, but I knew anyways: nothing. Derek or bust, I guess. Maybe being alone would be a good thing.
I could literally feel the tension in the air. It was so heavy I could cut it with a knife. Derek's silence said more than he could. Derek's stare burned into me, but he didn't even notice how he was putting me on the spot. He just stared. I was under so much pressure. Pressure to give him the right answer, pressure to tell the truth, pressure to... I don't know! But I was about to crack. I could feel all my broken pieces straining and ripping.
I didn't know what I wanted. A very large part of me still longed for Sam. But I knew what I did not want, and I did not want Derek. How could I tell him that, though, without being a huge bitch? Simple... I couldn't. So I said nothing, avoiding making a choice like the plague. Derek suddenly grabbed my hand, leaning over to kiss me passionately. He started murmuring sweet nothings, like how much he loved me and crap about us, Heaven forbid, actually dating... And I could see it all happening in my head like last night all over again, but I didn't want it to. It was easy to get lost in Derek's kisses, but I didn't want him. And, for God's sake, we were in Lizzie's room in the middle of the day and the door was unlocked, even ajar! I pushed him away violently, rising to my feet combatively. I was literally itching to tell him off, so I did. And I didn't hold back. I had to make things very, very clear, or else he would misinterpret them.
"Derek, stop it! Just... stop it!" I shouted, shoving him further back. "I don't know what I want, okay?! I just broke up with Sam, and I'm not sure about anything right now. My world has turned upside down, and I'm trying to figure out a way to set it right again. Now is not a good time for a relationship discussion," I said much more calmly. Nonetheless, my frustration shone through. "I just got out of a completely awful relationship, and I'm not looking to get into another! Not now. I'm not ready for another relationship; I don't want another relationship. Do you realize that I've been in one relationship after another while I'm here? I don't need another on-again/off-again thing, okay! I need to be by myself for a while, Derek, before I even think about getting with another guy. I need to think things through. I need time," I continued, purposefully stressing how much I didn't want a relationship. That much was true. I didn't want another boyfriend, another guy to break my heart. I wasn't just going to jump from one guy to another.
I paused briefly to catch my breath. "And even if... Derek, you're my stepbrother!That's wrong! Practically incest. A part of me thinks of you as an annoying brother. I hate everything about guys like you. I hate everything you stand for, and I don't want to be a hypocrite. I want to be a good role model to my sister. I want a guy I can trust. And, most of all, we have nothing in common! Unless the same address, siblings, and school count," I snapped viciously. I knew all that would cut him; I visibly saw his face fall. But it was a valid point. We were related, not to mention that we had absolutely nothing in common. We are as close at it comes to polar opposites. Derek's face went blank, though; I guess so I couldn't see how much I'd hurt him. I knew I had, though, and I felt bad for it, but I was just telling the truth. Derek may be Lord of the Lies, but I believe in brutal honesty.
He shook his head, disagreeing with me as he was wont to do. "You weren't thinking about that this morning," Derek retorted irritably. He was right about that. I stiffened and had to physically restrain myself from blurting out that I hadn't cared because he was there. Derek stared at me coolly, calming down a little. He crossed his arms over his chest. "You don't think of me as a brother, Case, and you know it. Besides, you don't think everything in me rallies against you? I hate people like you, yes, but I love you more... and that's what's important," Derek hissed passionately. Derek's wrong, though. A part of me really does think of him like an annoying little brother... or like that annoying guy in first grade who tortures you and pulls on your pigtails because he likes you. I see his point, but I don't love him, so it doesn't matter.
"Derek..." I exclaimed exasperatedly. I was ready to tell him off again, to tell him all the reasons why it would never work. But then Derek gave me this look, and I stopped talking. I felt so bad. Love was written all over his face, and I knew I'd break his heart if I finished my sentence. Besides, when had Derek possessed a heart to break? He did now, and it would be cruel of me to ruin that for him. He kissed me softly, soundly, and then my eyes closed. This time, though, he didn't push it. He seemed almost understanding. I appreciated that. Derek pulled back just a little bit, just enough to whisper, "Give me a chance, Case." His voice was almost pleading. I paused to think about it. I didn't want to give him a chance, but where was the harm in it? Could I really even say no to him? I knew I could; I'd done it before... But could I break his heart like that? Unlike him, I have a conscience. I didn't know how to let Derek down easy. I knew how I felt and that wasn't going to change. What Derek wants, Derek gets, after all. So, against my better judgment, I nodded, but only slightly. There was something about Derek, wasn't there?
Derek smiled beatifically; I could see why all the girls fell for him. All the girls except me. Like I said, I needed to get over Sam, and Derek was a great distraction. And I thought about it, and I didn't want to be alone. Call me selfish, but I wanted someone to love me, just me. I wanted someone to lavish attention on me. Everyone else was so distracted, and it was kind of nice for a change. I can say a lot of things about Derek, but at least he cares. To be honest, Sam never paid half as much attention to me as Derek did. I was tired of fighting with Derek, so why not try it if it gets him off my back? I guess I still wasn't thinking clearly. I was thinking more along the lines of a truce and less of a relationship, really. Mutual benefits. I smiled awkwardly, even though it was a forced smile. "Take it slow," I requested quietly, but it was not a request. It was an order and Derek didn't even realize it. He was only too happy to obey me, like a helpless little puppy. He was still smiling like an idiot, so he nodded brightly and agreed happily. He tried to kiss me, but I turned my head at the last moment (so that his kiss landed on my cheek- it was only proper), smiling shyly and pushing him out.
Maybe I was making a bad situation worse. I probably was, to be honest. I just wanted peace, and I couldn't just crush Derek. Was it the right thing to do? I don't know, and I don't care. I did the wrong thing in sleeping with him. I can't do anything worse than that. Besides, nobody has to know. I tried to go back to sleep, but I couldn't. Still, I was desperate to avoid Derek, so I went back to my room. I started reading Wuthering Heights for the escapism. We're going to read it next semester in English, so I figured I ought to get a jump-start. Derek would say that's so typical of me, starting on schoolwork on break. Then he'd probably smile wryly and try to distract me, or he'd send Edwin in to fetch me. I knew he'd mock me if he saw me, but not now. I had him wrapped around my finger; he wasn't going to say anything that could jeopardize him getting what he wants. But the whole reason I started reading the book was so that I wouldn't have to think about him. What better than the lives of fictional characters to distract me from my own messed up life? My thoughts, however, proved too distracting, and soon I put down the book, bored with its more-than-a-century-old prose. The thoughts came to me unbidden.
I dumped Sam yesterday. I kissed Derek at midnight. I slept with Derek this morning or last night... whenever. I was up all night thinking about it, about him. And now I agreed with him. I actually... Things are moving so fast, and I may very well have lost my mind. And I'm no better than Kathryn from Cruel Intentions; in fact, I'm worse. Sure, I don't have sex with strangers, and I don't snort blow from a crucifix. But I'm a hypocritical bitch just like her. She didn't actually have sex with her stepbrother; she just strung him along. And that's exactly what I'm doing to Derek... stringing him along. Why is it so hard for me to feel remorse for that? Derek doesn't know. That's what makes it so bad. He has no idea how I really feel, and he pretends to care, but he doesn't. He just wants me.
I think that's kinda nice. To have someone who wants only me... someone who knows all sides of me and still likes what he sees. I never really felt like I could completely be myself around Sam and Max and you know, those other guys... I felt like they wouldn't like me anymore if they saw the real me. The neurotic, obsessive, freak me who grubs for grades and overreacts and is freakishly organized and trying to do everything at once and has trust issues and fixates on Derek. I don't have to hide myself, not really. Derek's seen everything now, and if he still car- loves me, then it must be the real thing, right? Everyone wants Derek, right? So maybe he's not that bad of a guy... Okay, who am I kidding? I think I was just about to call Derek a catch.
It can't be that bad, right? Derek's a great kisser and... Well, and! Plus, maybe this could be just what I needed. Derek doesn't believe in serious relationships or long-term commitments. After all, Kendra set the record, right? And even then he dumped her. It won't last long, and it won't be serious. Just a little fling, a passing affair, something on the rebound until I can get back on my feet. Derek can't be expecting too much, right?
I can't believe I'm actually rationalizing this. I think I'm going to hyperventilate. If I didn't lose my mind before, I definitely have now.
Oh, what have I done?!
Loren ;
Reviews are super appreciated, especially long ones. ;)