Wanting Casey

by NotAContrivance

What Derek wants, Derek gets, right? So what happens when what he wants the most is Casey, his stepsister? He does what he always does; he goes after her... But what's this? Is Casey wanting Derek? Guess he wasn't kidding when he said he was irresistible.

26. Notice Me Then

Okay, so here it is, the long-awaited chapter. I believe some of you were even nagging me about it. ;) And, trust me, you're gonna like this one. I could say more, but I won't because I don't want to spoil it. But maybe it'll change some of your guys' minds about the story, eh?

Anyways, it was a tough chapter to write (which is part of why it took forever, in addition to a lack of inspiration), but it had to be done this way, and pretty much had to be this long. For all the time I've had this story planned, I never figured this chapter would turn out the way it did, but the darkness of the story surprised me too, I guess, so that's why it couldn't happen all easy like it was supposed to. Anyways, a lot of this chapter surprised me, like the bit with Sam (who incidentally turns out to be entirely different in this chapter, which is I guess me feeling guilty for picking on him so much and making him so out of character and whatnot), and... Ugh, I really hate the end, but it kept tapering on when I wanted it to be done, and I'm really not satisfied with it at all, but whatever. Because I was just like, well, I could revise it... or not, and I chose not because I'm tired and annoyed with the whole damn thing and just want it finally over with because it was starting to become the chapter that never ended.

Oh, and there's some tiny spoilers for Truman's Last Chance. Nothing too specific because the episode hasn't really been shown yet, and I watched it in French, so my understanding was rather limited. But that's not really too important, and it's by the end. I was going to keep it out, but then I was just like... WHAT THE HELL, I don't care... Anyways, I'm actually proud of all the characters who show up in this chapter. Because I've so severely neglected so many of them, but the focus is Casey and Derek, so obviously they're the ones I focus most of the story on because it's in their POVs and they're the main characters of both the show and this story... And, wow, only three chapters away from the end! Can you believe it? Because I can't! I ought to have this fic finally done by the end of the year! Wow, I'm so excited!

Oh, and I don't normally like to pimp out my other stories, but... A. Feel free to look in my profile to see if there's anything else you might like, and, more importantly, B. Strange Attractors! What is Strange Attractors, some of you might ask? Why, it just happens to be my OTHER LWD fic! Only it happens to focus on a very different pair of stepsiblings. But I'm not supposed to say that because it'll make less people read it. At any rate, for a brief plot summary: Edwin plus crazy sexual tension and Lizzie equals... trouble. Edwin and Lizzie are in high school, and Casey and Derek are mysteriously estranged, but never mind them because there's so much else going on! Jamie wants Edwin's help in getting back with Lizzie, Derek's trying to get Edwin together with Lizzie, Tanya's throwing herself at Edwin, and Lizzie's trying to hook up with... Derek?! Poor Edwin just wants everyone to leave him alone. Really, it's amusing. I promise. So, anyways, check that out if you're interested (and if you're not, keep an open mind because, as my grandmother says, you'll never know if you don't like something unless you try it!).

Reviews are appreciated. Like diamonds and precious metals. Especially long ones.

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"My heart says one thing. My head says another. And now I sound like a cheesy love song!"

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I have never been so happy to get my period in my life. That was like two weeks ago. And this cold feeling of relief came over me. I was pretty sure I wasn't pregnant anyway, but just receiving the absolute confirmation of that fact made me feel so much better. I meant to tell Derek right when it happened, erm, when I found out, but that didn't exactly work out. It didn't work out because I couldn't find him.

While Derek is around more often, and he is still technically grounded... that doesn't mean I can find him. I'll see him, but every time lately I've tried to go up and talk to him, he either pulls a Houdini and somehow manages to disappear, or is otherwise so distracted by other people that there's no time for me to exchange even a couple words with him. It's really bothering me too because I know exactly what he's doing. He's avoiding me, and I wouldn't normally mind, but I have to tell him this. Not just for me, for him too, because he deserves to know.

I don't need that much of his time, just a couple minutes alone will do. It's gotten to the point where I'm so desperate to tell him that I've literally contemplated just leaving a note in his room. He's never at home when I am, somehow. It doesn't matter if I go out or stay in, Derek's just not there. I'll catch fleeting glimpses of him, but he's always gone before I can even say hi. And it's really starting to annoy me. I mean, seriously, what is he, twelve?

We're finally starting to get along. At least, that's what I thought. We were finally on our way to getting things back on track, to finally having a normal relationship. But lately if I so much as turn a corner, Derek just disappears around the next bend. The way he does it, too, is so insulting! It's like he's got this sixth sense about where I'm going to be or when I'm coming because he never so much as looks at me! It's alarming, too, because what if I actually was pregnant? How on Earth would I be able to get in contact with him?

I can't help but wonder if that's why he's doing it. Is he scared that I could've been pregnant? Is that why he's avoiding me? I know it's awkward, and it's going to be awkward for a while... but Derek could at least look at me, talk to me, couldn't he? Even I've realized that I can't avoid my problems, and I know I certainly can't avoid him. God knows I've tried that. Over the past couple of months, I've learned from my mistakes. And I've learned that sometimes you have to look your mistakes in the eyes and face them, see them for what they were. You can't just forget about them because every mistake is just a very painful lesson in disguise.

And... what happened with Derek... taught me a lot. A lot of painful things I've internalized, and... Things I should talk to someone about, but I can't. It's like I told Derek... I jumped into a relationship, any relationship without thinking. For once in my life, I did something impulsive. Don't you ever want to live a little... dangerously? Yeah, that's what I did. I took Derek up on his advice and his offer, and it was a mistake, but all mistakes have their value... I learned a lot about myself as a result, and it showed me that... there are times in our lives when we need to be wrong. But it was just that... wrong.

Everything about it was wrong. The timing most of all. I didn't love him, and I knew I couldn't ever feel that way, that the chances of me feeling that way for him were slim to none... I was still hopelessly in love with Sam. And I knew that Derek did love me, but I didn't believe it. I couldn't really believe it until I saw it with my own two eyes. But still, a part of me cried out that Derek should've known better too.

Derek didn't deserve to be treated that way, and I deserved better. Period. I wasn't ready for a new relationship, and it wasn't fair for me, for either of us to try something that was doomed to end in failure. While I appreciate his attempts to... make things right, to stop me, to stop himself... And I can both understand why he gave in and forgive him for that weakness... A part of me just kind of wishes I had been a bitch and told him it was just a one-time thing. That we'd just left it at that. It would've been so much simpler.

But I didn't want to be just another one-night stand because I didn't want to be a slut. I didn't want to be like all those other girls. I wanted to be special. I wanted to mean something, to be an exception... Derek's right. I'm not that kind of girl. I don't want to be that kind of girl. I'm not the kind of girl who can just have sex, give myself to a person like that, and then turn my back on him. And I can't just have sex with someone without it meaning something. I slept with Derek. I chose Derek. And there was a reason for it. It meant something, but I don't know what. The only problem is that I don't understand. I don't know why. But Derek was special, I guess.

Maybe if I had, though, he wouldn't have gotten so attached. He would've just gotten it out of his system and forgotten all about it. And everything would be so much less messed up, and now I wouldn't be caught up in the middle of this awkward situation... and I could just write it off as a one-night stand, something that happened once and must never happen again, could never happen again, and I could somehow convince myself that it had all been some awful nightmare. That I didn't still vividly remember every moment in living color. That I didn't know what my stepbrother looked like naked. That I didn't remember how the reassuring weight of his body felt on mine. That I hadn't let him do all of those things to me. That his mere presence didn't affect me in such a way as it did, so terribly profoundly.

We had needed to have that conversation. It had been time, and I owed him that much, at least. There were so many more things, though, that I'd wanted to say but had been unable to get to, to touch on, to hint at or to even express in words. I didn't even know how to say everything. So I didn't. I said what I could get out, what I could articulate as best as I could.

There was this moment in there where I'd wanted to tell him, had almost told him something I had fought not to admit to myself. The whole time I'd been fighting it, the softening in my attitude towards him, pushing down those conflicting feelings, casting aside those stray thoughts that didn't fit in with the picture I wanted of the whole affair. I wanted to tell him I was starting to like him by the end there because I was. It took some getting used to, but I was starting to come around. I liked being around him, had fun with him, and I appreciated him a lot. And who knows what would've happened if he hadn't freaked when Sam asked me out? I might not have ever dumped him. But that's the past, and neither of us can change it. We can only learn from our mistakes.

Obviously I didn't tell him; I couldn't. I'd already been vulnerable to him, and I didn't want to give him even more cause to gloat or do something stupid. Or give him another chance to hurt me. Besides, what would that accomplish anyway? By the time I'd figured it out, it was already too late. It really wasn't fair to Derek to tell him that, not if I want him to forget about me. I might as well not torture him with what-might-have-been because it isn't what is.

So I was walking down the hall, searching for Derek, and, of course, he's nowhere in sight. While I was looking for Derek, I literally ran right into Sam. And, I mean, I was happy to see him and everything, but I was more surprised than anything. I guess I felt a little guilty. I haven't been spending as much time with him lately for some reason. I'm just... always busy with school or dance or there's some crisis at home or... things just get in the way. What's worse, though, is the fact that I'm not too bothered by it. Sam understands, and he wants to see me more, even to the point of being a little clingy... but the really sad thing is that I don't have that kind of desire to see him, my boyfriend. I'm such a bad girlfriend. I know that.

Honestly, I'm kind of relieved I don't have to deal with him all the time. It's stressful, and I'm always thinking, always wondering with him. It's so mentally exhausting, analyzing everything he says and does, checking and double-checking for signs of lies. I smiled at Sam, who smiled back and was about to say something until I cut him off. Maybe hi? I didn't even bother with a hello, so single-minded was I in my focus. "Have you seen Derek? I really need to tell him something, but I can't seem to find him." Sam's face fell a little, and I felt bad, but the need to see Derek and tell him was just too pressing. Sam nodded, though, and gestured down a hallway.

I smiled and thanked him and was about to go in the direction he'd pointed me when he grabbed my arm and pulled me back to face him. What's he want now? I gave him a questioning glance; he just gave me an easy smile. "So, any chance I could spend some time with my beautiful girlfriend today? You know, maybe after school, at Smelly Nelly's? I'll buy you a milkshake... It'll be like old times," Sam asked brightly. He reminded me of a puppy, so hopeful, so excited by the mere prospect. I was distracted and not paying much attention, so I nodded. Besides, I didn't have any reason not to go.

"Sure, Sam. I don't see why not. I'll... I'll see you later, okay?" I told him, directing a weak smile at him before turning around and going down the rest of the hallway. I'd barely heard his words, and I didn't look back. Sure enough, Sam was right about Derek's whereabouts. I caught a glimpse of him talking with some of the guys. My smile widened. Finally, I've got him cornered. He's not going to get away from me this time. I strutted right over to the circle of guys and elbowed my way through them.

Derek got this awful look on his face when he saw me. He blanched, practically grimaced, looked a little like he wanted to throw up, and it hurt. It made me want to cry just a little bit. Because he actually thought I was that repulsive, and he really didn't want to talk to me that badly. But I held my smile, forcing it as best as I could. Derek had gone silent too once he saw me, so I directed my words towards him. "Oh, good! Here you are, Derek! I've been looking for you for-ever! Mind coming with me for a second? I kinda need to talk to you about something important," I babbled idiotically. Derek just stared, and I cleared my throat, fiddling with my hands. "It'll just take a minute, I promise."

He finally sighed, turning to his friends. "Guys, I'll be back as soon as Spacey's done boring me to death with babysitting arrangements. If I'm not back in five minutes, one of us is probably dead," He instructed them, flashing an insincere smile. I narrowed my eyes at him, crossing my arms over my chest. A month ago, that might've been true, but now it was just another joke I didn't find funny. I waited impatiently for him to say goodbye to those losers he hangs out with, and then we were walking side-by-side. I felt relieved and really glad that I could finally tell him. I'd been keeping it to myself for too long. "So, what's the big deal, Nut-Case? What's so important?" He asked bluntly.

It was one of few times in my life with Derek that I've seen him look so incredibly uncomfortable. It was so obvious to me that all he wanted to do was get this over with and get away from me. His eyes were looking at anything that wasn't me, and he was fidgeting with his hands, his clothes, his hair. He waved at other people, checked out other girls, acting like it was just another one of his stupid model walks. I hated him just a little bit for that. I rolled my eyes at him, stopping dead by a locker. Derek's shoulder knocked into mine on accident, and he looked as if he'd been burned or hit with something heavy. "I just thought you might be glad to know that I'm definitely not pregnant. I've been trying to tell you for two weeks now, but I could never get a second alone with you, and I figured that a Post-It note wasn't the right way to tell you that you weren't going to be a daddy. So there you go," I practically spat at him (in an undertone, of course. I don't want the whole school hearing that I could've been pregnant with my stepbrother's baby).

Just like that, there it was, that familiar anger in my veins. Who were we kidding? Who was I kidding, thinking we could ever get along, let alone have a normal sibling relationship?! This is never going to be normal. I slept with him, and neither of us can forget it! For God's sake, he was in love with me, if he's not still in love with me! And I don't really see a way he can write that off, ever. As usual, he had to play it cool. "A Post-It would've sufficed, but I can understand why you wouldn't want there to be a paper trail," He replied tersely. There was an undercurrent of bitterness in his voice that surprised me.

Naturally, I opened my mouth to say something to counter his statement, because I really hadn't meant it like that... that if I'd told him that way, I would've incriminated myself or left physical evidence. I thought we were past all that, but I guess he isn't. The reason I didn't tell him that way is because he deserves better than that. It's just something you have to do in person, as humiliating as it can be. Derek spoke before I could say anything, hands on his hips. "So, was that all you had to tell me?" He almost barked.

I nodded dumbly. Was he expecting something else? Isn't he even going to say anything about me not being pregnant? I don't even get a "great" or a "whoo-hoo!" or a victory dance, or anything at all?! There was no reaction on his face. His features were stony and impassive and devoid of any emotion except maybe annoyance. I thought he'd care more, that he'd be happy about this. That he'd at least feel something! But apparently being told he's not going to be a father causes the same reaction as a lecture. Why do I waste my time with this?

Derek scowled. "So then why are you wasting my time here?" He interjected. My jaw dropped. I was expecting a little annoyance, maybe, but not him to talk to me in that harsh voice like me doing this is the stupidest thing ever. It's not a waste of time for me, even though I could be doing so many other things. It's kind of a necessity to me that he knows... and I didn't even take up that much of his time! This whole conversation has taken about two minutes. "I have better things to do." I scowled at him.

"Forgive me, Derek, for wasting your precious time. I kind of figured you'd want to know whether any progeny was in the picture because the last time we talked you seemed pretty damn concerned about it. But now I wonder why I even bothered. Guess it's a good thing I'm not, then," I retorted sarcastically, turning around abruptly and starting to walk away from him. I was still glaring at him over my shoulder when I ran smack into Cory Plunkett. Our heads bumped, and Cory fell to the floor and started whining as always. I could feel Derek smirking behind me, and my anger rose even more. Actually, I could hear him laughing.

"The return of Klutzilla, everybody!" He shouted behind me. I bent down to help that nincompoop Cory up, but he flinched and backed away from me, shaking his head. Oh, grow up already! I sighed, straightening, and turned around to see Derek. Sure enough, he was smirking. "I'll see you when I see you. Until then, try not to injure any more pedestrians. Wouldn't want anyone to sue us, after all," He quipped, turning around, practically cackling. What, no pet names? Not even my name or Case or anything? Why does that bother me? I seethed and very much wanted to punch someone in the stomach. Doubtful that I'll see him anyways, what with Derek freaking avoiding me! I didn't scream his name because that's what he would've wanted.

I stomped down the hallway, still fuming, thinking Derek, Derek, Derek... and all the nasty things I wanted to say to him, and some particularly murderous thoughts at that. So, of course, I manage to run straight into Truman French (luckily, he didn't fall over, and Derek wasn't around to witness it). Yet another bane of my existence. He's quite possibly the only guy I've ever met who's a bigger ass than Derek Venturi. I also really wasn't in the mood to deal with him and his mindgames. "Sorry. I wasn't paying attention to where I was going," I told him. My voice wasn't even remotely sorry. Because why should I be sorry for anything I ever did to him? He deserved it. I kind of wished I ran him over actually, like a car, just so I wouldn't have to see his big stupid smug face and that damn deceptive smirk and that freaking perfect hair of his ever again.

So I moved to walk past him because the incident was better off forgotten, but Truman had other ideas. He grabbed me forcibly by the elbow and brought me back around to face him. To say that I was unwilling to do so is an understatement. I bared my teeth at him, just about. "Hey, maybe I ran into you on purpose," He said, smiling in that stupid easy way that had always reminded me of Derek. Like I care. And Truman so would run into me on purpose, the stalker.

It had ended for good a long, long, long time ago, and I'd tried my best to forget about him and the girl he made me for good. I rolled my eyes at him; he still hadn't let go of my elbow and was keeping me there. "What do you want, Truman? I'm really not in the mood to put up with you right now, so make it brief," I snapped, feeling a little better about getting my rage out at him. Just a little. Because he was so like Derek, it felt good. The only real difference, aside from Truman being a bigger ass, is that Truman always had this stupid magical love spell thing that sucked me in against my better judgment. But not today.

Truman sighed. "Well, Casey, I was thinking..." This oughtta be great. What, is he going to tell me he wants to get back with me too? Because, buddy, that ship has already sailed. "That I missed spending time with you." Seriously? Seriously? Truman licked his lips and continued, "And it's great to see you, but it'd be even better if we could... talk." I swear, only that boy can turn talk into an innuendo. He looked straight into my eyes and went for the jugular, the ultimate in emotional manipulation, with that faux sincere look of his (but I knew better than to trust him). "I'm still crazy about you," He breathed, having suddenly moved closer to me. How the hell did that happen?

Instead of having the desired effect, his words made me want to punch him in the groin. "For starters, Truman, don't think because whatever you're thinking is only going to happen in your dreams. Secondly, if you really feel that way, and I seriously doubt you do, why the hell did you wait so long to tell me, especially since we're over and I have another boyfriend?" I countered irritably. He stopped me from going further.

His eyes were dark and full of mirth like always, and I hated it. "From what I hear, he sucks," He said, leaning in a bit more. I pulled back and almost laughed a little. Not now, anyways, but he used to. Truthfully, though, Sam's a better boyfriend than Truman ever was.

"You have no idea." Of course, only Derek would see the humor in that. Damn, thinking about him again. Truman looked confused, so I went back to my previous topic of conversation, what I'd been about to say before he'd interrupted. "My point is that I can't believe a single word out of your mouth. And crazy about me isn't good enough, not when I have a boyfriend who loves me. You just like the chase. You don't really want a relationship. You just want what you can't have, and you'd get tired of me the minute I gave in. You ruin these things for yourself, Truman. So, no, you don't have a snowball's chance in hell with me, Truman... I'm all out of last chances. So just save your breath, okay, and don't even bother," I explained so bluntly I knew it would hurt, but did he really deserve any better than that?

I can't deal with a person who's only decent and normal half the time. I just can't... not that I'm even interested in him anymore because I'm not. My life's already so confusing without him in it, you know? Then I removed his hand from my elbow, turning my back on him, and left, still full of wrath. Man, I should really talk to Paul, shouldn't I? Class hasn't even started yet, and I've already ran into two exes and my current boyfriend. With the way things are shaping up, I'm bound to run into Max and Scott next, and then maybe Trevor or Noel.

So, since I was feeling severely unbalanced and completely furious, I changed course and started to head in the direction of Paul's office. I could afford to be a few minutes late to class anyways, and of course Paul would write me a pass. There was a lot I needed to talk to him about. As I was rounding the corner to go to Paul's office, I briefly caught Derek's eyes on the stairs... and promptly ran into someone else, dropping all my papers. I really hoped Derek hadn't seen that because I had the feeling I was going to say something really stupid if he teased me again. I looked up, collecting my papers, and was shocked to see a very familiar face.

I was staring straight at my dear cousin Vicky. She smiled at me in that smug way she has. "Cousin. How nice it is to see you again." Her voice was as warm as it always is, you know, around the temperature of Antarctica. She was lying, too, one of many things her and Truman have in common. But what I'm wondering is what the hell is she doing here?! This is my school, my turf, my terrain, not hers. She doesn't belong her, and right now, I really want to kick her out because she doesn't go here.

However, this time I was determined not to lose to her any longer. After all, what does she have on me? Nothing. "You know, Vicky, you are so right. It is really nice to see you again. Especially with clothes on and not underneath my stepbrother in my bed," I replied in a similar tone, dropping all warmth from my voice. Vicky scowled at me. Oopsie, did I forget that she hates being called Vicky?

She forced a smile. "Speaking of that big, bad stepbrother of yours, where is he? I have a present for him," She asked, sounding perfectly poised as always. I was just waiting for her bitchy comment, really. Like, seriously, what's the present, her?

I rolled my eyes at her. Obviously he's behind me, sitting at the top of the steps like it's his own personal throne. Is she blind or just stupid? "You're a bit late. His birthday was two months ago." And, if I recall correctly, I was his birthday present. Didn't he say I was the best one he'd ever gotten? Vicky laughed musically and gave me a look. "And, really, if the present's you... Well, it seems pretty stupid to give him something he and everyone else has already had." Yes, I do realize the irony in that statement.

Ha! That one got her, but I didn't feel too good about it. She just blinked and turned her nose up at me. "Like it matters, Ice Queen. Maybe we don't all want to be prudes like you... Derek sure doesn't care. Now, if you don't mind, I'm here to see him, and I'd actually like to see him." The order for me to show her where he was was unspoken, and I rolled my eyes at her, gesturing behind me where I'd seen him last. Vicky smirked at me, of course, fake as the day she was born. "Thanks, Case. Oh, and do watch where you're going next time. Wouldn't want to hurt anyone, now would we?" She told me insincerely, breezing past me. I made a face at her behind my back. Bitch. And, yes, Vicky, I would very much like to hurt you right now.

Unfortunately, I couldn't think of a sufficiently bitchy comment to say back to her. Why does that always happen around her? I could only watch as Vicky sashayed across the hall and strutted up the stairs until she reached Derek. He smiled at her rather genuinely, and she leaned into him and whispered something in his ear that made Derek's smile widen. The mischievous look in his eyes hinted at what she'd told him, and it made me sick to my stomach. Derek waved goodbye to his friends and went down the stairs with Vicky in tow. He wrapped an arm around her shoulders so easily, so intimately for a man who hated PDA. They were like a car crash: trashy and destructive and arresting and a complete mess, but I just couldn't look away.

She giggled at something he said, probably something suggestive judging by the smirk that seemed to be permanently affixed to his lips and the twinkle in his eye. Ugh, what does he see in her besides the obvious resemblance? She's a total bitch, and she's shallow and petty and unpleasant. How can he like that? The two of them were walking towards me, and Vicky surprised both of us by leaning in and kissing Derek in the middle of the hallway. He stopped walking and closed his eyes and just let her. He wrapped his arms around her, got into it, groping and everything, and, wow, he'd changed.

Why does this feel like my glass slippers have broken and I'm stepping on gritty little jagged pieces of glass? Why does it feel so sharp, so cutting? Because both of my tormentors have united to cause me pain?

My slutty cousin was sure enjoying it, all right. They looked like they were devouring each other's faces, and I was disgusted. She'd also as good as marked her territory. That's the main reason why Derek hates PDA. He likes to seem available so girls will check him out. After a while, they had to break for air, and Derek pulled away grinning. "Come on, babe, let's get out of here," He said loud enough so I could hear it, keeping his arm around her. His arm fell to her waist, skimming down her back. They walked towards me in what seemed like slow-motion, looking for all intents and purposes to be the perfect couple.

But they weren't, and it annoyed me that they pretended to be. The both of them waltzed over to me, amused by the look on my face and how flustered I seemed. Derek brushed by me but didn't touch me. He just threw me a smirk over his shoulder. "Careful, Klutzilla. You could've hurt my girlfriend earlier," He said, like I actually cared. How could I ever hurt Vicky? She's practically soulless. As far as I'm concerned, I've done a lot for that girl, and all she's ever done is screw me over and be a big pain in my ass. At that point, I wanted to stab her in the forehead with my sharp pencil.

Vicky, however, did touch me. She positively beamed like a freaking sunbeam when Derek dropped the g-word and then turned to me, still starry-eyed and sunny. "Don't be jealous, Casey. I'm sure you'll find somebody too," She said in a voice that sounded actually sympathetic for once. I couldn't figure out whether or not she was being genuine. Being a lying bitch-face, probably not. She patted me on the shoulder and then smiled up at Derek conspiratorially and let out a little laugh. "Not anyone as great as Derek, of course, but you'll find someone," She repeated soothingly. But all I heard was bitch, bitch, bitch.

I was about to point out that actually, I did already have a boyfriend, and that no, Vicky, I'm not that pathetic, when I realized two things. One being that Derek had just called Vicky his girlfriend... girlfriend! And that just about floored me. I couldn't believe that my trampy cousin was giving me unsought advice on attracting men, trying to encourage me when I already had somebody! Secondly, Vicky was sure acting like she thought she was Derek's girlfriend, like they had a real relationship. It made me so angry because they didn't really have a real relationship. She's... what? An extended booty call? She's not girlfriend material.

So, instead, I retorted immediately, "Trust me, he's not that great!" I said it with more vehemence than I meant to, and it came out sounding defensive. Derek's eyes widened at what I was obviously referring to, because he'd taken it in the way I really meant it, the obvious way. He looks kind of offended, and I relish it, me affecting him for once. Vicky knew no such subtlety (or, in this case, obviousness... What, seriously, she didn't sense that something was off?) and didn't read it that way. She just rolled her eyes, thinking "typical Casey who has to devalue things I like, and she's really got Derek all wrong." Derek continued looking at me in that surprised way, so I huffed and flipped my hair. "And, anyways, for your information, I already have a boyfriend. I'm dating Sam, Derek's best friend," I decreed, trying to regain the dignity I'd lost.

Vicky frowned a bit. "Oh, that's the gay-looking one, right? Wow. You really do know how to pick 'em, Cuz," Vicky replied casually. I glared at Derek. Had he told her? Was he really that loose-lipped and cruel, and if so, what else had he told her? And how dare she make me feel not desired! Two ex-boyfriends have tried to get back with me, not to mention that her supposed "boyfriend" was at one point and is supposed to still be in love with me! She gave me another one of those quasi-sympathetic looks that might actually mean something if she wasn't such a bitch. I resemble that remark, Vicky.

I'm about to say something else, probably something stupid, but Derek's eyes are on mine, and Vicky doesn't notice. It burns, his stare. And then he leans in, tugs on her and pulls her to him, presses his lips to hers. He kisses her with his eyes open this time, that one eye I can see focused on me. His stare's dark and intent, and it makes me burn inside. I see a flick of his tongue, the way he enjoys every minute of the kiss but stays in control. His eyes don't roll back in his head, but he tilts his head the right way, moves his lips just fine to catch hers in all the right spots. His tongue's in her mouth, sliding across her lips, I catch a flash of his teeth as they separate momentarily, watch him suck on her bottom lip. I hear the stupid wet smacking sounds of their lips, and I become even more sick to my stomach.

It's almost like seeing a mirror image, like I traveled back in time. I never realized just how much she looks like me. If I squint, I can see myself there with him, like a slut, all over him. It makes me feel cheap and dirty. I can see me in her, despite her sharp angles and my curves. It's like I'm having an out of body experience, almost like he's kissing me again but I can't feel it, and the whole thing makes me feel wrong. Wrong, wrong, wrong. My stomach churns violently, and I feel like I'm going to throw up on the spot.

Derek straightens up a little, flushed with pride at seeing me turn green. He runs his fingers through her hair, which is long and down and falling around her face, and so straight. He puts his hands in the right places, on her shoulder, tracing circles on her back, and then back up to her face. He rubs the side of her face with the back of his hand, cups her cheek before finally placing his hand on her neck. And he never takes his eyes off me, not once, the entire time. Not even when he pulls away, and Vicky's lips are still pouted, and her eyes are still closed, and she looks so scarily in love with him that I feel guilty for it.

He smirks then, like he's made some great victory by flaunting Cousin Victoria in my face. He knows she's a sore spot for me, and that I've had issues with her in the past, and why's she always taking my things? Then he turns back just in time to tenderly meet Vicky's gaze. Like he's the greatest boyfriend ever, when really all he is is the best liar on the face of the planet. Derek pretends he's a sap and tucks a strand of unruly hair behind her ear, and Vicky smiles almost shyly, and I hope, hope against hope that she doesn't really like him, but I think she does. For a second I want to warn her, but then she looks back and sees me, and the looks on their faces match, and the sympathy turns to disgust all over again.

"You know, Vick, I'm really glad you came to visit. I think one dose of you is exactly what I needed to spice up an otherwise unremarkable day," He tells her, grinning. He grabs her hand and looks excited, almost like a schoolboy, and I wonder how he doesn't choke on the incredible falseness of the gesture. I'm really trying not to gag because it's just so corny and so not Derek. I can't believe Vicky buys the act, but she just looks so happy to be in on the play. She's happy and I'm... not, really. It's a sobering revelation. I mean, she doesn't even expect anything of Derek, yet she's got that grin on her face, and she's not a stupid girl.

Me, I've got a loving boyfriend, and I need excuses to stay away from him. So who's really in the messed-up relationship here? But it's my turn to be a bitch, so I raise my voice and snap them out of their little dream world. "Really, Derek? Because you didn't seem to be missing Vicky last night. Especially when you brought home Crystal. Now, wait, was she the blonde or the redhead?" I remark viciously because he deserves to be exposed and nailed to the wall for this one thing. And he's not who my cousin thinks he is. Vicky's face falls a little, and Derek's eyes get simultaneously desperate and pissed at the same time. Vicky pulls away from him, and Derek tries to appeal to her.

"That was before you were my girlfriend. We're official and exclusive now, and there won't be any other girls. I promise. I want to make this work with you. I... I really like you, Victoria," He tells her. I shake my head. Excuses, excuses. His promises aren't worth a thing. It's all just one big pack of lies anyway. You can't believe his promises, girl, and you're stupid if you do. He makes sure to say the right name, her full name, like the queen, not rhyming with icky, and not my name. I think he hopes it'll make him sound more sincere.

And he takes her hand and has that soft look in his eyes, like he wants you to believe him. She just stares at him for a moment, then she looks at me. I'm surprised no one's accused me of lying, but that's probably because I'm not and they both know it, and this is just a painful reminder that I was right about them. Then she tears her eyes away from me, thinks it over a minute, and I already know how this is gonna go. She gives in (easily, of course), like they all do except for me. Then she smiles and kisses him. "The past is better off forgotten anyways," She tells him, like it's no big deal. She's such a good actress that it doesn't seem like a lie, but I know it is from the look in her eyes when she pulls out of his embrace. It's brief, but it's there.

Derek glances over at me, just for a moment, and heartily nods his agreement. "You're right," He agrees, and just like that, he's starting to forget. "What's past is past. Over, done, and best put behind us." Right, Casey? I can see it in his eyes. That stings. It feels like those shards of glass embedded in my feet but worse. I take it like a knife to the stomach, and I feel like I've been stabbed in the back. I'm bleeding everywhere only on the inside. It's such a sharp, stinging pain, an easy cut that blooms and grows until it's taken me over completely, and it's like I'm cut right down the middle. It's all I can do to stay standing, and I'm staring at them, and I feel like a voyeur.

And I hate this part so much. He smiles at her genuinely, hand wrapped intimately around her wrist. He gets all excited, then, practically running past me and out the door with her in tow. "Now, I believe you said something about wanting to show me something in the back of my car?" I hear the flirtatious tone in his voice as he leaves and the door starts to shut behind him, and he laughs and sounds really happy, and for some reason, I hate it. I don't want him to be happy with her. I don't want to be stuck with that image, forced against my will to picture them together like that.

I don't go to Paul's office, not then. I go to class upon realizing that the bell has already rung, and I'm standing there like an idiot. I'm seven minutes late, but I don't care. And it doesn't matter because all I'm doing the whole class period, and the one after that, is thinking about where Derek is and what he's doing with Vicky, and, oh, God, I want to throw up so badly. My stomach burns and boils and bubbles and tries to revolt, but I won't-can't let it. I don't see Derek until much later, around lunch time.

His hair's more messy than usual, no doubt tousled by Vicky's hands. His lips are unusually pink, and traces, smears of Vicky's lipstick remain there. He has a hickey forming on his neck that looks like a fresh bruise, and he wears it like a sign of pride. I freaking know he's been with her, and I hate that I know, hate that it's so obvious. His clothes are rumpled, and Vicky isn't with him, but I bet he smells of her too. Her and sweat and sex and the back of the Prince. I know that smell; I've done it before. Only substitute her for me, and the driver's seat for the backseat. I remember how uncomfortable it was, and how fast my heart was beating and how the steering wheel dug into my back, and I didn't like it too much, being perched on his lap, but it felt so good, and he knew just how to make me like it enough.

Mostly, I hate how I care. I shouldn't care. It's none of my business, only it is because she's my cousin-slash-worst-enemy, and he's my stepbrother-slash-former-lover-slash-arch-nemesis. And I hate most of all that he still looks absofrickinglutely gorgeous, and that I want him now more than I did before, even though my cousin's dirty hands have been all over him, and he's all hers and spoiled. And it disgusts me but attracts me at the same time, and I hate it because I was never like this before. I don't want to be like this, and I hate myself for it. I was never really jealous of her, of them, but now I am, and I'm drowning in it, choking on it. And he's so damn smug, and I know he's enjoying my discomfort.

And I can never, ever tell him because that'd just be the icing on the cake, and he'd like it way too damn much. He moves towards me and walks past me in slow motion, like something out of a movie, glossy and gloriously messed-up and perfect. And, suddenly, painfully, everything I want, and all I can think of, and utterly mesmerizing... And now I know how Emily feels. It sucks harder than Sam, not that I would know. And suddenly, my world's sorta turned upside-down, and nothing makes any sense anymore, and I don't understand myself, and I just want to find that one thing to ground me.

I glanced over to my side, feeling a presence there. Emily was standing next to me, and I was relieved to see her there. She smiled over at me. "He looks really good today... happy," She commented, staring at him with the trained eye of an expert. I nodded numbly and gazed at him in silence. She was right, too. I haven't seen him like that since before I broke up with him. Is Vicky the reason? I felt her eyes turn to me yet again, flicking between myself and Derek as if she was observing something. There was a question in her eyes, but I didn't know what it was.

I sighed instead, hoping the answer I was about to give was the right one. "Derek and Vicky are officially dating now. She's his girlfriend, meaning he's going to stop cheating on her. And he's fresh from having sex with her, by the looks of it," I informed Emily in a monotone. My voice was devoid of the disbelief I felt. The surprise showed on Emily's face; she hadn't known that. Emily pulled her notebook out of her backpack and started furiously writing, adding on to Derek's page. Well, I know at least one entry there that's not listed.

Moi. Emily looked somewhat scandalized at the way I spoke so frankly of his sex life, but it had all become so matter-of-fact to me, what with being a participant and having to hear and see him and put up with him having sex all over the place and catching Sam in the bathroom and the pregnancy tests... It wasn't such a big thing anymore, and I could talk about it bluntly. Emily glanced up from her notebook, frowning. "Hey, isn't that the girl Derek's in love with? You told me about her a long time ago," Emily asked, remembering. I could barely recall that conversation, only my rage at Derek and how he'd been so obvious.

Forcing a smile, I briefly debated what to say. There was no, which was technically the truth, and yes, which was a fabrication that made more sense. Emily couldn't know the truth, not that she'd understand it even if I told her, and I can't do that. I eventually gave in and nodded. "Well, my cousin Vicky is definitely his girlfriend now. You should've seen them in the hallway earlier. Their PDA was really disgusting," I continued, grimacing. Did she realize that I never actually answered the question?

Emily turned to me again, looking very surprised. "Public displays of affection? Derek?" She asked incredulously. No, I'm not mistaken. I know who I'm talking about. I nodded dully, and Emily continued to gape. He's never really been big on them. It's part of the reason why we worked out for a while there. I didn't pressure him or expect much of anything, and we were both perfectly fine with hiding the physical stuff. I didn't want anyone to see me like that, all discomposed and flushed with guilt.

"Oh, yep, they made kissy-face right in the middle of the hallway where anyone could see. You know, he even called her his girlfriend too. Said he really liked her and a whole bunch of other crap," I practically spat. A moment later, I realized how that came out and glanced over at Emily to see if she was suspicious. I sounded like a jealous girlfriend. And I am. That's the worst part. I'm his ex-girlfriend, and my cousin's the next one. I mean, really, who's next? Lizzie, my mom, Aunt Fiona? There aren't that many women in my family left. Ugh, it felt like I'd been replaced by my slutty cousin, and it made me feel dirty.

She was so stupid to believe him, though. Emily looked even more astonished. "Wow. What he feels for this girl... it must be real, then," She remarked, jotting down some more notes. I gaped at her. Hello, did you miss any of what I just said? Did you hear my tone? Do you know Derek? He is never sincere. He never does anything unless there's something in it for him. In this case, it's Vicky continuing to have sex with him. I shook my head, silly Emily, still believing in fairytales. A guy like Derek can't change... and I would know.

"Oh, no, it's refreshingly inauthentic," I interjected, even though my brain was still running over her words. In a way, they had been true... just never for Vicky. That's ridiculous, of course, though. Derek must be almost over it now if he isn't already. He's very resilient that way, and he's made it clear that the past is no more. So why am I obsessing over it? "He was probably saying it just to get laid." And maybe, just maybe, to piss me off. I turned up my nose, forcing myself to look away from him. "Ugh, I bet you could smell her on him." Thinking about Derek and Vicky made my stomach turn like a key in a lock, sharp and snappy.

When I looked over at Emily, she was staring at me with curiosity written all across her face. She couldn't comprehend my disgust or else the vehemence of it surprised her. It shouldn't have, of course. Not with everything I've had to put up with lately. "Casey, are you... feeling all right?" She asked, looking concerned. I thought about it for a minute. Right now I'm not acting like myself, clearly. I'm not the chipper, perky, bubbly, prim-and-proper, overdramatic keener Casey. I don't really care about school at the moment, and for once I'm not really complaining about how Derek's ruining my life. So of course she thinks this is weird, but in a lot of ways, I'm not that same girl I was, you know.

But am I feeling all right? I've been queasy since Derek's little performance with my dear cousin this morning, and seeing him even from afar after he's reeking of her and sex makes me even more nauseous. And I'm obviously not thinking straight because I can't really concentrate on anything, and my thoughts aren't making sense and... No, I'm not. I shook my head slowly. "I don't think so, Em... I feel funny," I told her simplistically. However, I couldn't quite articulate what it was that wasn't right about me, what was off, why I felt so different.

Emily put the back of her hand on my forehead, looking even more concerned. I licked my lips, which felt suddenly dry, and Emily pulled away from me frowning. "Well, you don't have a fever, but you're kinda flushed and..." She surveyed at me critically, almost skeptically, before nodding and agreeing with me. "But there's definitely something off about you. Maybe you should go see the nurse after all," She suggested. I shuddered reflexively, trying to suppress the downright awful memories I had of that woman. Trust me, I could be dying, and I wouldn't want to see that bitch.

I shook my head, swallowing hard. Just then, of course, Derek whooshed past us without even a wave. All that I got was a wave of cool air hitting me in the face. Oh, and I dropped my books, but thankfully he was too busy being in love with himself to notice, thank God. And my throat suddenly felt dry all over again, and I felt the need to compulsively straighten my clothes. Was it hot in here, or was that just me? And was there any particular reason why my heart was beating so damn fast I thought it was going to come out of my chest? Was there any reason why I felt so out of breath and so, so tired, like I'd just finished running a marathon? Why my knees had almost buckled, and I felt so unstable and unsteady on my feet when my legs were grounded like tree trunks?

Maybe I should see the nurse after all... Though, on second thought, maybe it was more of a mental thing. I had meant to pay Paul an urgent visit anyways, hadn't I? I bent down to pick up my books, already tired. It had been such a long day. "Um, I think maybe it's psychological? I'd just be more comfortable talking with Paul about this... I think I'm gonna go see him. I'll, uh, see you after school, okay, Emily? I think this could take a while, and I'm really not feeling too great..." I told Emily distractedly, smiling weakly and hoping she'd excuse me from class somehow. Emily nodded understandingly, though she did look a bit confused. Then I turned on my heel and walked towards Paul's office.

I knocked on the door hesitantly, and to be honest, I almost didn't want to go in there because I had this sinking feeling that I'd go in and wind up spilling everything I'd worked so hard to conceal. However, fate decided I was to talk to Paul, because he came over and opened the door. I usually just barge in, so Paul was a bit surprised to see me standing there waiting. "Hi, Casey. This is a wonderful surprise. We haven't talked in a while... Come on in and have a seat," He said warmly, opening the door and gesturing for me to come in. I bit my lip anxiously, seeing his lunch and half-graded papers on his desk.

Don't get me wrong, we still talk regularly... It's just, I've been keeping so much to myself lately that it's been mostly trivial stuff, which used to be what I always came to him about. I couldn't tell him about the whole mess with Derek, or too many of the details about my break-up with Sam (because saying them out loud made them true, and it hurt to be reminded of the betrayal), and the war I'd been waging... We talked a lot when I first got back together with Sam, about what I should do, if I should let him in again. We talked about Max and Truman and those kind of issues. We didn't talk much about Derek, haven't talked much about him for sometime now. It was long past time now, though, and I couldn't really put off the discussion any longer.

"Am I interrupting anything? Because if I am, I totally understand if you want your privacy... I can always just come back later... I mean, it's nothing that can't wait," I babbled idiotically, desperately wanting an excuse to get out of the room. I needed an excuse to get out of telling him absolutely everything, even if it was a lie.

Paul fixed me with a look that clearly said he knew me better than that. "You're not really interrupting anything. I was just grading some papers. I'm actually pretty glad you came when you did. You saved me from falling asleep at my desk again," He told me sincerely, flashing me a smile. He motioned for me to have a seat, and I did so, but only after bolting to the door. I shut it and locked it and faked a smile and then returned to sit before his desk. If Paul was surprised, he didn't show it. What I knew I was going to tell Paul, it had to stay in here. That's all I knew. "So, Casey, you've obviously got something weighing pretty heavily on your mind. Why don't you tell me what's bothering you?" Paul said soothingly, leaning forward a little, doing that engaged listener thing.

I sighed and leaned heavily into the chair, closing my eyes. Where do I even start? I just looked up at Paul then, speechless, and wondering what exactly I could tell him. I was so confused about everything, and where did this whole thing even begin? I don't know anymore. Paul cleared his throat, frowning a little. I'd never had any problems talking before. "I've heard some things lately, Casey... and you don't have to talk to me about them if you don't want to, of course, but feel free... From what I understand, some of the other teachers were talking about how a string of bad events happened to you, cruel pranks and rumors, that sort of thing. They seemed rather surprised I didn't know. Do you want to talk about that?" He asked calmly, hesitantly.

Well, might as well start there. I sighed and rubbed the back of my neck a bit sheepishly. Damn it, Derek does that! I dropped my hand immediately and straightened up a little. "I just didn't want to bother you with that because no one could really do anything about it. My parents, the teachers, probably not even the principal. I had Sam and Emily there to help me, and a lot of people didn't even believe the rumors. And all of that's over now, for the most part..." I explained awkwardly, timidly. Paul looked at me knowingly because maybe it was a little too clear that I knew who was behind all of it. Thankfully, he didn't ask me about that and let that description suffice.

He nodded and leaned back in his chair. "How 'bout Derek?" He asked brightly. "You never have any trouble talking about him, and I've noticed that you haven't really mentioned him a lot in our recent sessions. Is there any reason for that? Are you two getting along now?" Paul wondered aloud. I gulped hard. We were getting along. Then wasn't the right moment to tell him, so I decided to switch the subject. Of course I knew he'd be smart enough to see through that, but we'd come back around to Derek when it was time for that.

I cleared my throat. "So I ran into Truman in the hall today. He wanted to get back together or something, I think," I told Paul instead. The rage was refreshing; it made my thoughts so much clearer and more focused once again. Paul raised his eyebrows and look interested, but I could tell he hadn't forgotten about how I'd avoided the subject of my stepbrother.

"Oh... So I bet that must've been somewhat awkward. What did you tell him?" Paul questioned interestedly.

I shrugged. "I told him that he was out of his mind and that it was never going to happen. All he's interested in is the chase, you know? Once we got together, he just... didn't care as much. I've played enough games to last me a lifetime, and I'm sick of them. I don't like the person he made me, either. I was like his puppet or something, like a robot... And I don't really understand why I'm that way around guys. It's straight out of a chick flick, but I kind of... change... depending on who I'm with, and I'm better than that, stronger than that, I know... Can you tell me why I do that?" I wound up telling him a lot more than I'd meant to. It was a question that had been eating me up for a while. Every time I'm with a guy, I become who he wants to be, and I lose myself in the process. And it shouldn't be like that.

Paul looked really intrigued by what I'd just told him, so he steepled his hands and thought it over for a long moment. Then he looked up and met my eyes, offering me a little smile. "Well, obviously, Casey, you're a very independent, stubborn young woman, so I have to say it confuses me almost as much as it confuses you... Maybe it has to do with your relationship with your father?" Paul proposed. He gave me this look saying that I was free to tell him all about that relationship. I thought it over for a long, hard minute.

I've never liked talking about my dad. It hurts too much. Mom, Lizzie, Uncle Dennis, and the policemen are the only people who know, and Lizzie doesn't even know half the details. We don't talk about it much. In the spirit of full disclosure and because I thought he could help me if he knew, I decided to tell Paul. So I took a deep breath, greedily inhaling air. I'd never told anyone else, but maybe I didn't have to tell him everything. "My dad died when I was ten. He loved me a lot," I told Paul succinctly, trying not to think of it too much.

Naturally, Paul's face fell as they all did, and this look of profound sympathy crossed his face. I didn't want to see it, though, because that pity wasn't going to bring my dad back. "I'm so sorry, Casey... I had no idea," Paul murmured as a way of an apology. He might've hugged me or something if he wasn't a teacher and that wouldn't be really weird.

"Why be sorry? It's not your fault some crazy guy shot and killed him. How were you supposed to know?" I told him rather brusquely, feeling that old resentment bubble up in me. Uncle Dennis had asked his friend the D.A. to go extra hard on the guy for our sake. It wasn't what Dad would've wanted, but it was what I wanted, what I needed. He was put away for a long time, but I'll never forget his face or what I saw that day. You know, I don't even care if he had family because he broke mine, and I'm never going to forgive him for that. The expression on Paul's face changed dramatically.

He paled slightly, staring at me in disbelief. "Your father was killed, then?" I nodded, eyes quickly turning dull. I didn't trust myself to say the words and keep it together. You don't even know the worst part. Paul's eyes were full of sympathy for me. "That must've been really hard on you, losing your father at such a young age..." I nodded, sucking in a breath and trying not to cry. Harder than you could ever imagine, I wanted to say. Paul frowned then. "So, then, who... I'm not saying that anyone could take your father's place because no one else can... but you had to have some father figure, didn't you?" Paul said, very careful because he knew he was treading upon a sensitive subject.

A part of me bristled at that, but I couldn't be mad at Paul. He was only trying to help me, and he didn't mean any harm by it. "Uncle Dennis, mostly. He's my dad's brother, and he and my mom kinda had this thing, I guess. He's... a lot like my dad. There were a couple others... Mom's boyfriends, teachers, Uncle Donny... But none of them were my dad," I replied vaguely. None of them could ever replace my father, though. Paul perked up at this.

"Your Uncle Dennis... he's the one who came to visit you, right?" I nodded, dreading that question, and Paul gazed at me curiously. "You're not too close to him, are you, Casey? But you want to be closer, right?" He inquired, lowering his voice a little. We never get to see him, and he's always so busy that we don't hear from him too much. I nodded, impressed he'd been able to read me so well when I wasn't saying anything. It was a painful thing for me, so I was focusing mostly on not crying. "Because he's all you have left of your father, isn't he?" He whispered, and there he'd hit upon it, and suddenly I was sobbing.

I hadn't ever really cried like this in front of Paul, nothing this serious, and suddenly everything I was feeling was coming out. Paul hastened to place the box of tissues in front of me, and I helped myself. "I... My dad's dead, my granny's dead... he's all the family I've got on my dad's side. And it gets harder and harder to remember him every year, and Uncle Dennis... He was there for a while, but then he left us for bigger and better things. And now we never see him, and I know he's not my dad, but he's all I've got, and I miss him," I sobbed, choking out the words between cries. I didn't say how I felt like Mom kept him from us sometimes, or how George, as nice as he is, would never be a father to me.

Sniffling, I continued, wrapping my arms around myself. "They always leave, they all do... because I'm not good enough. Daddy left, Uncle Dennis left, all of my mom's stupid boyfriends except George... They ran the minute they saw me. They don't like me. I'm not enough to make them stay. I'm not perfect enough," I cried, feeling the pain of abandonment. At that moment, I knew Paul had pinpointed it, so I blinked through the haze of tears and tried to focus on him.

My vision was blurry, but his voice was soothing. "Casey, maybe the reason you change for all the guys you date is because you want them to like you. You want them to stay, so you become who you think they want you to be. Because you've been hurt too many times before when one of them left you. You need the approval you never got from your uncle, and so you seek it out from other sources," Paul explained patiently. He was right, of course. That was why I'd tried so hard to make everything perfect for Uncle Dennis' visit. I wanted his approval because he was always such a tough judge and whatever I did wasn't enough. Still, I hated Paul's description, even if I knew it was true, because I didn't want to be that weak.

Paul patted my hand lightly. "It's not healthy, but it's natural, Casey. Your father and your Uncle Dennis both loved you very much, and they both want you to be happy. Your father would want you to be happy. Just remember, you want a guy to like you for yourself... and if he can't do that, then he's not worth it. Okay?" Paul advised. I realized suddenly just how much I appreciated his advice, and I cleared my throat, wiping my eyes. I hadn't meant to get emotional or to talk about any of that. I'd come here to talk about Derek.

And, now, I knew, it was time to have the conversation I'd been dreading. I smiled weakly and sat up a lot straighter in my chair, biting down hard on my bottom lip. "So, there's something I haven't told you... and it's pretty big, like size of Jupiter big," I confessed, feeling the weight on my chest start to ease a little. It felt easier to breathe. I sucked in a deep breath, but I couldn't bring myself to look at him. I fumbled over the words, not knowing quite what to say or how much to reveal, but only knowing that I couldn't say too much. Erring on the side of caution, I was terribly vague.

My throat was as dry as a desert, and I was fiddling with my hands. My eyes scanned the room for an appropriate distraction, but I'd long ago memorized all the pictures and self-help posters. The sight of them only made me all the more nervous. "I didn't tell you when it hap-pened because it was all t-too much, and I was so confused... I didn't want to have to figure out what it meant. It was a relief not to be constantly overanalyzing what was going on... A-and, afterwards, I didn't want to even think about it and risk... finding something I didn't want to know or feel..." I continued anxiously, wringing my hands. I was finding it hard to swallow. I was so sick of my feelings that I wanted to bury them all. I couldn't even look at Paul.

I played with my hands, snapping the knuckles so hard it felt like I was breaking my fingers. Just thinking of what I was going to say next was enough to make me cringe and almost vomit up my breakfast. I hadn't eaten lunch, and, to be honest, I hadn't felt like it. I'd still been nauseous and terribly fixated on his stupid whereabouts and imagining what he was doing. I forced myself to take a calm breath. "I thought I'd put it behind me for good, that it was all over. I thought I was okay, that I was fine with that, but it's become so clear to me today that I'm not. I'm the opposite of okay. And I know now that this isn't just gonna go away like I want it to," I told him levelly, finally looking up to meet his eyes.

Paul's stare was intent and questioning. He blinked, seeming to absorb my words and attempting to decipher them. Then he nodded slowly and looked me over quietly, taking in the fidgeting hands, the bitten lip, the tangled hair, the clothes that had been pulled straight and smoothed one too many times. "You seem upset, Casey." I rolled my eyes at him. Thanks for stating the obvious when I really want advice and psychoanalysis. I almost snapped at him but held it in at the last moment, and the smile faded from Paul's face. "What happened, Casey? Did someone hurt you?" He asked softly. There was a worried, almost desperate gleam in his eyes.

I shook my head no vigorously, but in reality, I had to think it over. Yes, Sam had hurt me by betraying me. And yes, Derek had hurt me in almost every way imaginable. Yet here I was, alive and stronger for it. Yes, someone hurt me. I didn't voice the thought aloud though. Instead, my eyes took on a dreamy cast as I fixed them on a point beyond Paul, so I could properly explain. I felt a dull prick as I started talking. "I told you Sam and me broke up... but I never told you why. We broke up because I caught him cheating on me at a party. And after that, I was heartbroken and so mixed up, and I wasn't really thinking clearly. I... didn't want to be alone," I explained slowly, trying to make it as clear as possible.

At that moment, I chanced a glance back up at Paul, who nodded reassuringly, encouraging me to go on. His eyes were sympathetic. He made some meager statement when I told him about Sam, but I didn't hear it. I saw no judgment in his face, but I still couldn't look at him as I said it. "I've never told anyone this... And what I am about to say cannot leave this room," I informed Paul slowly, watching and waiting for him to agree with me. He nodded sincerely, and I continued nervously. "...But I was with someone then. Before I got back together with Sam. For about three weeks," I blurted, looking up at Paul at the end with shame in my eyes.

He rarely showed surprise (after everything that had happened, there wasn't much left that could surprise him anymore), but he raised his eyebrows nonetheless. He hadn't really been expecting to hear that. I can't blame him. No one expects goodie-two-shoes Casey McDonald to have a rebound relationship. Nevertheless, Paul recovered soon enough. "And you broke up with him because you were still in love with Sam, right?" He questioned knowingly. I shook my head, and his eyes went wider still.

I licked my lips, wondering how to explain it just right. "I... Was still in love with Sam, that much was true... But I didn't want to be with him again. He, the guy, he broke up with me because he thought I was going to get back with Sam again. He'd heard that Sam and I were going out. I tried to explain but he didn't listen... Sam had begged me to go out with him, and I couldn't really say no... I didn't want anything to happen," I stuttered, hoping I made some sense. Apparently I'd lost the ability to speak in complete sentences.

Paul nodded, contemplating this, going over my words in his head. The majority of our sessions, he was quiet like this, listening, taking it all in. At first, I thought he wasn't listening to me, but he made it pretty clear he was soon enough. Paul placed a finger on his lips, almost as if he was pausing to figure out what to say next. "And the other guy... how did you feel about him?"

To say I stiffened when he asked that question, the ONE question I wasn't prepared to answer, is a vast understatement. I became starch. I counted my breaths, fighting the urge to hyperventilate. I could feel the hiccups, the gasping for breath bubbling up in me, and I sought to inhale and exhale slowly. My heartrate spiked, and I was doing everything I could to not think of the answer to that question. I floundered for a long time, stammering, half-mute, unable to think of anything to say. Then I found a word. "Grateful."

My voice came out clear and strong, but my breath was shaky. I was beginning to feel unwell again, and I'd become a nervous wreck all over again. Maybe Derek was right to call me a basketcase. Paul raised an eyebrow at the statement, staring at me in utter belief. I knew what he meant. That answer wasn't good enough, and I wasn't saying everything. I wasn't saying what I was really feeling at all; that was just the tip of the iceberg. Paul knew, though, when not to press me. "We'll get back to that," He said with a terse little smile. My stomach dropped, and I silently prayed he'd forget it. "So why don't you tell me what the problem is, Casey? Why are you telling me about this now?" His voice was firm, urging me.

I exhaled deeply, running my fingers over my eyes. I'm telling you now, Paul, because I think I'm going to have a nervous breakdown if I don't tell someone. I let out a strangled scream into my hands, closing my eyes. When I opened them again, trying to collect myself, Paul looked supremely taken aback. "I don't know what's happening to me," I told him weakly, lowering my hands from my face. My hands were trembling. "I feel funny... Like I want to throw up, and my heart's beating all fast, and I can't breathe properly, and I can't concentrate at all or control my thoughts... and it all comes back to him. I think it's psychological," I told him quite gravely.

Paul snickered a little, and I pouted, glowering at him, offended by his laughter. This is a serious conversation we're having here! I'm baring my soul to this man, and he has the nerve to laugh at me?! Fine, just laugh at Casey the Drama Queen, why don't you? It's not like I'm falling apart all over your office here. It's not like I feel like I'm going to break, or at all like I'm completely losing my mind. I don't know what's wrong with me, but it's something, all right, and Derek's at the bottom of it, I just know it! He always is.

A sober, slightly apologetic look crossed Paul's face, but the ghost of a smile remained on his lips. "I'm sorry, Casey. I didn't mean to laugh." I don't see what he found so funny about that. It's actually a very serious matter. He paused for a moment, opening his mouth like he wanted to tell me something but ultimately decided better of it. "I think you're right, Casey," He told me indulgently. I felt somewhat vindicated and allowed myself to smile thinly. Now, come on, Paul, tell me how I can fix it. There was a twinkle in his eyes I didn't quite comprehend. "How long have you been feeling this way?" He leaned forward a little, looking me in the eyes, as if he knew something I didn't.

I frowned at him, leaning back in my chair and sighing heavily. It really was a very big deal to me. "Since this morning," I told him, running a hand through my hair. I looked over at him expectantly, waiting for him to tell me something.

My therapist, however, was a little too silent for my liking. He shifted in his chair a little, and I knew he was going to play some of his stupid counselor mindtricks with me. Great, more mind games! As if seeing Truman wasn't enough! Paul just nodded, almost to himself, staring out into space somewhat distractedly. "I assume you see him a lot, right?" Upon my nod, Paul continued, eyes sliding over to lock with mine at the very last minute. "So what made today any different than all those other times?"

Now that was something to consider. I paused for a moment to run it over in my mind. Vicky was definitely a catalyst, but she was nothing new... He'd been ignoring me for weeks. Maybe it was a combination of the two. Oh, I don't know for sure! I shrugged helplessly, biting my lip. "Well, he has been ignoring me for weeks now, and today I tried to talk to him about something important... And he just blew me off." I felt the rage I'd felt flooding back in under my skin. My cheeks got hot just thinking about it. "And, he basically paraded his slutty little girlfriend around me today, and that was just so completely phony and disgusting..."

A light flickered on in his eyes. He steepled his fingers, placing them under his chin. "So would you say you're feeling neglected, like you've maybe been replaced with this new girlfriend of his?" He asked casually. I knew it was a trap, but, as a matter of fact, I did! I nodded vigorously despite my better judgment.

Naturally, I was off talking before I could even think of shutting my mouth. My mouth really does run away from me sometimes. "There's no maybe about it! He has replaced me! She looks just like me, you know, only she's easier and meaner than I am!" I countered loudly, leaping up out of my seat. Paul raised his eyebrows at the vehemence of my emotion, at the force behind my words. I was gasping for breath. At that moment, I realized I was probably seeming a little instable and somewhat insane, so I sat down. Calm yourself, Casey. Paul opened his mouth to probably ask me some asinine question about how could I be sure of that or something to that effect. I had a rejoinder ready before he got even a single word out.

"Trust me, I know. She's my cousin, for god's sake! My cousin!" I shouted half in disbelief because that really was a low thing to do, but it was such a Derek thing to do. Paul's jaw actually dropped at that, and I suppose it should've because you can never really expect something like that, regardless of the circumstances.

For a good while, my old friend was utterly speechless. I have rarely if ever seen Paul completely rendered speechless. It took him a solid five minutes to find words again. He cleared his throat heavily. "Well, that does seem to be a reasonable conclusion... But could it be that you're really upset because it seems like he's moving on and he's completely forgotten about you?" Paul hinted, and damn if he wasn't right. That was what I was mostly mad about (the fact that it was with my cousin and that he was flaunting her in front of my face didn't make me too damn happy either), and I hated myself a little because I had no right to be. What was he to me anymore?

My brother?

Had he ever been a brother to me? Ever?

So I just nodded, somewhat dumbfounded. "Yeah, I... I think that's it. It's just, I didn't think he would. I didn't think it would happen so soon. I mean, it's weird, this whole situation, and I don't like him ignoring me. I don't like him treating me like anyone else. I don't like him thinking he can just blow me off... and I know things can't be the same, and maybe they won't go back to normal... maybe they'll never be normal again... But I was expecting something more than this," I murmured half to myself. There was more anger in my voice than I realized, and Paul picked up on it. I sighed. "I'm not used to this. I guess I'm not used to not having him in my life at all, and it feels like that's what's happening," I told Paul surprisingly frankly.

He grinned broadly, and I realized I'd just had a bit of an epiphany. But when had I ever wanted Derek in my life? When had I ever thought I'd suffer from a lack of him? When had I ever needed the bizarre dynamic that was our relationship to feel normal? Why did I miss it? Oh, god, I miss it. What the hell is wrong with me? I... I even miss his stupid pranks and his insults and his lecherous looks because... because at least then he was paying attention. At least he cared then. Now he's just... thrown it all away. And I don't want him to? I thought I'd be happy... I've been wanting him to leave me alone since Day One, but...

Now I don't even know what I want at all. I sucked in a deep breath.

Paul asked me another question then, one that came completely out of left field. He sensed my mental state, sensed I was almost there, almost to the point of having my questions answered, on the brink of self-knowledge. His eyes narrowed a little, and he leaned on his desk, body half turned away from me. "Earlier, you said you were still in love with Sam then, past tense... Are you still in love with Sam?" He inquired so stealthily I never even saw it coming.

That question took my breath away for a moment, but the answer came to me quick, unbidden. "I..." But, really, I was just stalling. Deep down, I already knew the answer. I'd known it for a while now. I sighed and gazed down, picking at my nails. "A part of me will always love Sam, and I'm never going to forget about him... He's my first love, my first boyfriend, and he's really a good person, despite everything... But it hasn't been the same as it was before..." I told him anxiously, sensing the way the conversation was heading. Paul watched my intently, fascinated and silent.

My eyes burned a little, and I felt the tears boiling there. I didn't want to do this, any of this, admit it, but I'd been in denial about it long enough. I sighed heavily, biting down hard on my bottom lip, and then I admitted the hard, cold truth. "I don't think it's working out," I said, and it hung in the air for some time afterward. I glanced back up at Paul for a moment before the words started flowing out of me on their own accord. "It hasn't been working out for a long time, I think, and there's really no point in it anymore... We've both changed so much, too much to salvage it. We're such different people than we were when we got together the first time, as much as I hate to admit it. We don't know each other anymore, if we ever did... And I can't trust him or get past what happened, and I haven't been able to look at him the same since..." I admitted mostly to myself, feeling the tears trickle down my face slowly.

They were a release. By that point, I'd almost entirely forgotten Paul was still in the room, and I said it, that fatal sentence. "I just don't feel the same way I used to. I can't feel that way about him anymore," I mumbled numbly. I'd wanted it to work out so badly, but it just seemed doomed for failure. Because neither of us are the same as we once were, and he's not the Sam I thought he was. I snapped back to look up at Paul, who was smiling faintly, sadly.

"It sounds like you want to break up with him. Are you going to?" He asked me tranquilly. If he'd asked me just this morning, I would've laughed at him for saying something so absurd... but now it had merit. I'd just been playing a role and pretending with Sam lately. That was why it was so hard, that was why I didn't care if I saw him all the time. I answered more easily than I thought I could.

My voice was distant and far away. "Yeah, I guess so. I'll, uh, do it after school..." I replied softly, nodding almost imperceptibly, still surprised at the turns this day had taken. I thought I'd feel something when I said it, when the idea of breaking up with Sam for good this time had implanted itself in my brain once and for all, something like remorse or regret. But I didn't feel anything like that. All I felt was a lightness and this incredible relief that went straight to my head and almost made me dizzy-drunk with its intensity. It was a sweet relief, and I didn't feel one ounce of regret or guilt for my decision.

Deep down, I knew I should've done this a long time ago.

Since I was off in a dreamland of my own creation, imagining how the break-up would go, the last thing I expected from Paul was another question. I thought I'd already come to discover all I had to know, but that was only the beginning. "If he hadn't broken up with you first, the other guy... would you have stayed with him, or would you have gone back to Sam?" Paul pondered, raising his voice. My eyes widened a little; it was wholly unexpected and hypothetical. It didn't matter, whatever the answer, I told myself, but that wasn't completely true, was it?

I just shrugged at first, trying to play it off. "Who's to say?" But that answer didn't suffice, and the real answer came to the surface, bouncing off my lips almost immediately afterward. "Probably." Paul looked very intrigued, and upon seeing his look, what I'd said registered. I winced, instantaneously knowing the truth behind the word. Hadn't I always known that, though? It wasn't really a revelation. Even Derek knew that. "Yes, I probably would have stayed with him," I forced myself to repeat because I needed to hear it.

The thought was equally sobering and frightful. Paul nodded encouragingly, and as usual I felt that pull, like he was directing me, pushing me into territory I didn't necessarily want to enter into, into things I didn't want to understand or think about... but it was all for my own good, of course. He hardly gets enough credit for what he does. "So I guess that just leaves one question, then," He stated, giving me a knowing look. I knew exactly which question he meant, damn it. I swallowed hard and nodded, trying to convince myself I was ready for it, ready to hear what he had to say and answer him.

Paul is the most patient man I have ever known, and he deserves a Nobel Peace Prize just for putting up with me all the time. I know it's not easy. His voice was measured, trying to assuage my reluctance to answer. "I want you to think long and hard about this, Casey. You're obviously fixating on this guy, meaning that you two have unresolved issues. I think what he does, what he thinks, and what he feels matters to you a lot more than you're willing to acknowledge. And, clearly, he's disrupting your life a great deal at the present moment. Are you sure you're over him?"

He was as serious as a heart-attack, so I tried to stop the instinctive reaction that burst out of me. Of course, it didn't work. But, really, I've always fixated on Derek. It's a natural reaction when someone's goal in life is to make your life hell, and some people may think that's weird, but for me, it's perfectly normal. "I was never under him! I mean... I never had feelings for him. I'm the one who wanted to move past it," I retorted immediately, defensively, stubbornly, hotheadedly, realizing all too soon that I sounded like an idiot. And, wow, I went to that sexual place right away. Derek would totally be smirking and making fun of me right now. Even Paul was smirking a little, and I glowered at him.

As usual, Paul remained calm under pressure, and he knew when to call me on something I'd said. He gave me a skeptical look, gesturing towards me. "I've never seen you like this, Casey, in all my years of knowing you," He told me, being sure to emphasize it. Paul has seen me in many stages of distress, frustration, depression, rage, happiness, stress, annoyance, embarrassment, and pretty much every other emotion you can imagine... so him saying that is actually a pretty big deal. "I've never seen you so... un-done," He elaborated, and of course he was right, because that's exactly what I was.

I'd been running around like a chicken with her head cut off all day since I'd spoken to Derek. My heart was skipping beats like Marti decided to play hopscotch on it. My breath was irregular, and it kept speeding up or I kept forgetting to do the all-important thing and just... breathe. Or the breath would get caught up in my throat and stuck there, and then I'd kind of almost asphyxiate myself on it. The whole day I'd felt like I was going to throw up, and my stupid stomach kept doing flips and cartwheels like I had one of those bitchy cheerleaders trapped inside, trying to get out. I kept running into things (especially people) and knocking things over and tripping on air and dropping things and generally making a fool of myself. And I was thinking of him nonstop, like I couldn't get enough, wasting my time thinking about someone who obviously wasn't thinking about me.

Not to mention the dreams I'd been having! All these horrible sexual dreams about Derek, of course, and most of them actually happened in reality, which makes it worse! They're so awful I can't even write them in my Dream Journal, lest someone like Edwin or Lizzie stumble upon it and be scarred for the rest of their young lives.

And, oh, I hadn't felt this completely awful, run-down, and sick since I had my appendix out. I waited for Paul to go on and say something else. "Clearly you haven't moved past it yet. Casey, don't you think the way you're reacting to this means something? Maybe your body's trying to tell you something?" Paul suggested, hinting at a possibility I didn't even want to entertain. I shook my head stubbornly, but I felt the truth in my bones. I've never been one to give in easily, though. Paul looked a little frustrated for once. And just when I thought he couldn't blindsight me with one more unexpected question, he did. "Is this about Truman? Is he the guy?"

My jaw dropped, and my tongue just about fell out of my mouth. I stared at him for a solid minute, eyes wide and gaping, in sheer disbelief. Truman? He thought I was this worked up over Truman French?! Admittedly, I have gotten pretty damn worked up over Truman French, but heart palpitations were never part of the equation. My hands shaking, yes, me sobbing like a melting snowman, yes, but he never made me this big of a mess. He could never get under my skin like this. So imagine Paul's surprise when I start laughing hysterically and slapping my knee. "Tr-u-u-u-u-mah-ha-an? That's gotta be the most ridiculous thing I've ever heard. No, this has nothing whatsoever to do with him," I gasped out between giggles.

There were tears of mirth in my eyes. Paul was less amused but rather surprised. His brow furrowed up in confusion. "Really? But Truman always..." I continued to shake my head. I get it. It's similar to how I acted back then in a lot of ways. Believe me, you don't feel like this because of Truman. God knows the boy drove me crazy, but he didn't drive me off of the damn bridge, you know? Finally, the laughter died, and I wiped away some of the tears, still amused he thought Truman had me in such a pathetic state. I assured Paul I had no lingering feelings for Truman except a profound disgust and dislike.

He nodded slowly, quirking a smile. "Okay, so we've talked a lot about your current situation, but I haven't heard anything about what it was like with this guy before. You haven't talked very much about the actual relationship, but you've made it pretty clear that you don't want to be with this guy, right?" Once again Paul was toeing around the question he really wanted to ask me, not that I really minded. I did know, however, that he would come out with it again and surprise me when I least expected it. I nodded though. Of course not, that would be ridiculous! The last thing I need to do is jump into another relationship.

I shrugged, adjusting my sleeves. "What do you want me to tell you? It was... intense," I said a bit defensively, although I drew out that last word like a last breath, and I hated how it left me breathless. Because intense didn't even come close to describing it, all of it, the glorious life-altering mess that it was, destined from the start to crash and burn in a prettily dramatic fashion. "It was kind of like trying to turn a game into a relationship." The way he'd gotten me to talk made me uncomfortable, and I smoothed out the nonexistent wrinkles in my skirt for the millionth time. "I needed someone, and he was there. I... It was a m-mistake, though. I wasn't thinking straight, and I had no right to be in a relationship when I was still hung up on Sam. I can't take it back, but I would if I could, and I'm sorry about how it all turned out," I spat the words more furiously than I intended to, bitterness coating them heavily like cough syrup.

Paul gave me a curious look. "Did it hurt, Casey?" He asked slowly. I shook my head, shrugged, looked away. Did it matter? It didn't hurt much, if it did at all. The break-up was hell, though, by which I mean that awful aftermath that led to war and bloodshed. How couldn't I feel guilty about that? About Marti getting hurt because of me? About Sam and Derek fighting because of me? Paul's stare was penetrating, and something in his eyes changed. "Did you hurt... him?"

All I could do was nod and say yes. I don't think that even begins to cover it. He lashed out at everything and went into a self-destructive cycle because of me. I know it hurt him, and I've always known that. He told me as much, didn't he? And I was just a bitch to him. He said he loved me. "I did wrong by him," I replied in a steely tone. I sank into the chair. "It's not what I wanted... I-I didn't m-mean to," I stammered, rubbing my temples, wishing anything I said would make sense. Paul didn't ask that to make me feel guilty or anything. He was just curious about what the situation was like. There was something else I wanted to say, to explain it better, but after grasping for the words for some five minutes, I gave up, slumping into my seat.

So what do I do about all of this, I wanted to ask him. I pinched the bridge of my nose, suddenly beset by a gigantic headache. Then Paul did exactly what I'm dreading. "There's only one question you need to ask yourself, Casey. Either way, you obviously have unresolved issues with this person. How do you feel about this boy? Do you have feelings for him, and if so, what kind of feelings are they? I can't tell you what you feel, but it seems to me that there's definitely something here you're overlooking," Paul advised me. He was probably right, but can't he see I'm doing it for self-preservational reasons?

Nevertheless, Paul was giving me that look, so I had to do what he said, no matter how much I didn't want to. All I can say is that I am not going to like this. I tried to think hard as Paul sipped his coffee. Well, obviously I care about him a lot more than I want to. He's family, too, of course; can't forget that. I don't like that I care what he does or who he does or what he thinks of me. It bothers me that that's such an issue because this is Derek Venturi, who is the Antichrist, of course. I hate his smirk, his attitude, his orders, his ego, how freaking smug he is. I hate that he's a womanizer and that he's dating my cousin... I don't want him to be happy with her. I hate that this is making me sound like a jealous ex-girlfriend.

And I hate that I feel like he's ruined it all for me. I hate that I can't be Sam's girlfriend any longer. I hate that Derek doesn't even know what he's doing to me. I hate that I think about him so much. I hate that I even have to have this conversation. I hate that he drives me absolutely crazy. I hate that I dream about him even though I tell my subconscious it's ridiculous and disgusting and I should know better. And I hate that I care about him and his stupid well-being and feel responsible for it.

And I hate that I broke his heart.

I hate that a lot.

All of a sudden, some idiot is knocking on the door, interrupting my important and pivotal train of thought, and I'm murderous all of a sudden (ew, do I like thinking about him or something?). So I get up and stomp over to the door, surprising Paul once again, and throw it open. I'm about to ask what the hell the person wants, and what problem they've gotten that could possibly be more important than mine, but I look up, and there's Derek. And pretty much every word dies on my lips. I blink at him in disbelief, and he's smiling, crossing his arms over his chest in a way that, believe me, I can appreciate, like nothing's happened. "What can you possibly want here?" I say to him, finally finding my voice, though it lacks the venom I'm accustomed to using. And just like that, I fall apart, and he's not even looking at me.

I swear that boy looks past me like I'm not even there. He's practically glowing like a sunbeam, not even smug, and his stupid red-brown hair looks perfect, falling into his eyes a little in that way I like. He's wearing the damn sexy jacket too and holding some papers? "Believe me, Marcia, the last thing I want to do is interrupt your little psycho session with our very esteemed guidance counselor slash computer teacher, but I do kind of need to turn in my recommendations and the like," He said, barely sparing a look at me. I roll my eyes at him, gesturing to the door.

"Ever think about putting them in the thing on the door used for this express purpose, D-Vent?" I manage a little shakily, not quite as sarcastic as I intend to be. Derek just rolls his eyes at me and tosses his hair like a damn model. He's like the sun, I swear. Burns to look at him.

"Even you can't ruin my day, Sister Dearest," He quipped brightly, thrusting the papers into my hand. My whole body goes cold at the word and how sincere he sounds when he says it, like he's Beaver Cleaver or a damn member of the Brady Bunch. I have to suppress a full-body shudder at the word. It feels like a dirty, sinful word. Sister. I can feel the indigestion coming back up again, the acrid bittersweet taste of bile at the back of my throat. The gold glimmer in his caramel eyes is the worst of all, though. What's got him in such a good mood? Did Vicky put that smile on his face? Ugh, I think I'm going to be sick.

Derek smirks, and my insides do this weird sort of wobbling dance like eggs or something. "Normally I might threaten to pay ol' Paul a visit digging for some of your deepest dark secrets... but I don't want to give the poor guy a heart attack, especially since he has to listen to you bitch all the time, and I already know more than enough about you to humiliate you for life... and maybe I'm feeling a little generous," He continued, leaning forward a bit to stress his point, smug as hell. I drop the papers, and Derek shakes his head at me. "Didn't think you were a ButterFingers too." He picks up the papers anyways and hands them to me yet again.

Our fingers brush, and I almost fall over. I feel like I just stuck a fork in an electrical outlet. Worse still, I can't think of a single rejoinder to his semi-insult. He's not even trying. But I just can't think when he's this close to me! "Oh, so now you're talking to me?" I snipe instead. I come off sounding half-hearted and petty and offended, like I care. But at least I don't sound jealous. Derek just rolls his eyes at me again.

"How I haven't missed the sound of your voice, Basketcase. What'd you expect, a monogrammed apology? I'm sorry, but I'm a busy guy, and I already see you more than enough as it is. Now, just give those papers to Paul for me, and I'll be gone," Derek practically chirps, although his voice has a bit of a sarcastic edge. He's not sorry. The edge revives me a little, even if his words deflate me. He doesn't even care enough to pull out the big guns. I almost don't want to give the papers to Paul just to see what he'd do, just to make him stay, and, WOW, is there something seriously wrong with that.

So I turn around and walk over to Paul, placing the papers on his desk. I trip on my way there three times and almost die crashing into Paul's desk. Derek doesn't say a word. I give Derek plenty of chances to annoy me, but he doesn't take even one, and I'm strangely disappointed that he doesn't even care enough to mess with me. That he's playing it so freaking cool. When I finally go back to the door to close it, he's not there, and I feel cheated out of something as I shut it and lock it again. I hiss a little and slip halfway down the door before I remember Paul, who hasn't even batted an eyelash.

I sighed and pulled myself off of the wall, walking over to the chair. Paul doesn't ask too many questions he knows I don't want to answer, but he has this look on his face like he's waiting for an answer to the question he asked me earlier. I know I owe him an answer, but I can barely breathe, and my stupid face feels all hot, and since when do I become tongue-tied around Derek?

And, oh my God, that's when it hits me like a brick in the face. My jaw drops, and I can't fight it, not now. Because everything that's happened today has finally amalgamated into a picture in my head, and it's Derek's stupid godforsaken face, and I know what that means. All the damn puzzle pieces have clicked into place, oh snap, and there it is in living color. I want to scream. I want to cry. I want to vomit. I want to throw myself off a tall building.

I'm sure I've got some bizarre look on my face because Paul looks really concerned. He's still drinking his tea or coffee or whatever, and he knows I'm troubled, but he has no idea, really. And then I just say it out loud, the sudden realization that was supposed to come out all calm, only I'm not freaking calm about this because my world has just flipped upside down, and the bottom has dropped out from under me! I figure saying it out loud can't be too bad, but I'm wrong because the instant I do, I regret it, and not even because Paul now knows my deepest, darkest secret. I regret it because saying it out loud makes it true, and I can't ignore it or deny it or try to forget about it anymore.

"OH MY GOD! I'm in love with Der-ek!" The horror in my voice is unfathomable and terribly genuine, and I'm hoarse and half-screaming and suddenly standing up and pacing, wringing my hands. Paul spits out his coffee everywhere and just about chokes in sheer incredulity. He looks like he's about to have a stroke, and I feel like I'm having an aneurysm. But, really, if I'm in love with Derek, then what the hell is the world coming to? It makes too much sense for me to deny it now. I start hyperventilating like a maniac until I swear I'm going to turn blue in the face and I find it very fitting because I always knew that Derek freaking Venturi was going to kill me one day, one way or another... or at the very least cause my death.

It would've almost been funny if it wasn't such a traumatic moment. Paul recovers far sooner than I expected, trying his best to mop up the coffee and console me at the same time. I'm truly impressed by the effort but too busy freaking out to listen to him properly because it feels like I'm dying. "Whoa, whoa, whoa... Slow it down, Casey, just... cool it. I can't have you dying in my office. Now, take a deep breath. Breathe in... breathe out..." He instructed me, mimicking what he wanted me to do. I closed my eyes slowly and let his soothing voice wash over me and stopped hyperventilating. Just barely because the whole OMG-I'M-IN-LOVE-WITH-DEREK-VENTURI-sensation was still running around in my veins.

And I was pretty damn certain it wasn't ever going to come out. When I opened my eyes, Paul was still dabbing at spilled coffee awkwardly. He had a hesitant, half-frightened look on his face. "Excuse me, Casey... You're... what? Did I hear you correctly?" He asked. It looked kinda almost like he didn't want to know. I don't want to know either, Paul. See, this is why I put off going to you. I just knew something horrible like this was going to happen. Nevertheless, I nodded, unable to utter a single word. Paul blinked. "You just said you're in love with Derek, right? Now, do I know this Derek or what?"

You can imagine how I started laughing hysterically at that. Hyperventilating all over again and kind of crying, too. It was real attractive. I didn't like hearing Paul say it aloud. I fixed Paul with a rather severe look. Don't make me say it again. Just the one time was hard enough. I cleared my throat and tried (and failed) desperately to regain my composure. "Well, he goes here, and I'd say you know of him," I attempted to say somewhat calmly, in a level voice.

Paul was still gaping, of course, but he actually sounded shocked when he spoke. Like we were in some melodramatic old movie. "You don't mean... As in Derek Venturi?" He practically gaped. Well, Paul, what other Derek do you know of? There's only one Derek with me. And this whole time I've been kind of forgetting the stepbrother thing, which is of course why his eyes are wide. Oh, right. He's not going to tell anyone, is he? Because that could get real bad and real ugly real fast. And there's the added complication of Derek not knowing this, and me not wanting him to know this. Hell, I don't even want to know this!

I cleared my throat awkwardly yet again, nodding my head just barely. "Yeah, that's the one. That's what I said," I clarified even more awkwardly. My eyes were firmly fixed on the ground, so I didn't see Paul's face. I sucked in a shallow breath. "So, Paul, are you going to tell me what to do or not?" I asked a moment later, feeling terribly drained and petrified.

He sighed like I wanted to, as tired as I was. He seemed to think deeply for a moment before answering. When he spoke, his voice was a bit edgy. "Okay, first off, never do that again because I think I just had a heart attack," He ordered rather urgently. I snorted loudly. You? I almost turned blue! Paul sighed again, rubbing his temples like he had a headache. "Secondly, dear God." My thoughts involve more swearing than invocations of God, but sure, whatever. He paused for a moment there and looked back up at me, being sure to look me in the eyes. He smiled faintly. "Thirdly, let me just say I always secretly thought there was something more going on there. You always did seem to fixate on him and hate him just a little too much," Paul told me frankly, stunning the hell out of me.

Of course my jaw dropped. He's been doing that a lot today, surprising me. But even Paul never thought that the dynamic was that of a sibling relationship. Paul shrugged at my reaction. "Plus, Derek was obviously repressing his feelings for you by employing reaction formation. He's like a first grader, you know, who pulls the pigtails of the girl he likes to get her attention. He was overcompensating by bothering you so you wouldn't suspect he actually liked you," Paul explained quite rationally.

I shook my head at him. He had it mostly wrong. "Wow, Paul, you really do know a thing or two about psychoanalysis." He frowned at the remark, and I sought to explain. "Derek pisses me off because he likes bothering me, not because he feels the need to pretend he doesn't like me when he really does. It's more like the hate and the... not-hate... aren't mutually exclusive. Trust me, he had no problem telling me how he felt," I muttered half to myself. No problem at all for a guy who likes to pretend he doesn't have feelings.

My dear counselor looked somewhat disappointed by this, so he just nodded and stayed silent for a moment. "So when you avoided talking about him... it wasn't because you were getting along? And when you said you were tired of playing games... you really meant with Derek, right?" Paul asked me, tying it back to my earlier comments. His memory impressed me, and... well, what could I really do other than nod? He still wasn't telling me what I was supposed to do, not that Paul ever does that outright. He leaves it for me to figure out.

"Okay... so now that we've got that over with, the last thing I want to do is go into the details of my former... re-relationship with Derek. Being in love with him is kind of a lot to deal with, let alone rehashing everything. So why don't you just tell me what I should do about it? I'm guessing not being in love with him is going to be pretty hard, and telling him's not an option, so is there an imminent solution you can offer me? Or even anything I can do?" I demanded somewhat frantically. I stuttered the word relationship because, despite the fact that I was Derek's girlfriend, I can still not fully grasp that concept. It feels like a lifetime ago. And I'm still not exactly sure what that whole thing was because you don't have relationships like that. Well, I don't, at least. It was so much more and so much less than a relationship is supposed to be.

Living with this is not really an option, you see. Because if I do, then I'll obsess, and I'll be a wreck like this all the time. You think I don't know that a man like Derek Venturi drives girls crazy for fun? I can't live my life like that.

Obviously judging by his look, Paul thinks this is a pretty strange reaction too, and I know it is. But, really, what would you do if you just realized you were in love with your asshole stepbrother? And you're in a relationship with his best friend, and he's sleeping with your cousin. You don't run up to him and tell him and hope he feels the same because who's to say he does? Clearly this is not an optimal situation, and I'm not going to be overflowing with happiness and a love-like glow because it only makes my life more awkward. This does not make me happy. I don't want to be in this position. This is not something you rejoice about. Like, I don't know, people like Derek can accept this sort of thing because they're already deviants, but that's just not possible for me because I know it's wrong and yet I feel this way.

And, for crying out loud, it's Derek! Just because I'm in love with him doesn't mean I'm going to overlook his faults. They're still there, and they still piss me off, but I've got all of these unexpected feelings for him... and no idea what to do with them, but I know I shouldn't be feeling them. Yet I can't expunge them or erase them because it doesn't work like that. That's something Derek taught me, all right. I can accept that I have these feelings, but I can't embrace them. I can't give in.

I mean, this whole situation is so messed up, you know? I love Derek, but I don't want to be with him. Not even a little. I don't want to tell him, and I kind of want to bury this whole situation like some horrid mistake, but I know better than that. Because I tried that, and it worked about as well as Edwin spraying Axe on himself instead of showering. Derek, like B.O., doesn't go away when you try and mask or cover him up with something else. He can't even be scrubbed off of your skin, no matter how hard you try.

Being in love with Derek is going to be a bitch. Because he's great when he wants to be, but also a total asshole when he wants to be. He tends to be some variation of asshole most of the time, but I still have all these good memories of him floating around in my head, so I can't hate him completely. I finally get what Derek meant about loving me and hating me at the same time, but it's still such a strange concept. All of it. Derek... loving... me. Me... loving... Derek. It's all a little much. And no matter how many times I say it, I realize that it still doesn't sound like I'm in love with Derek, but in my bones I know I am, trust me, because there's this horrible feeling of inevitability.

I'm not going to pretend like I don't remember the good things about Derek. It's just that I don't get to see them as much. Anyways, so I was kind of off in this la-la-land wondering what the hell I was going to do about the whole Derek Venturi loving situation while Paul was actually explaining things, so I missed most of what he was telling me.

Not that he was probably telling me anything helpful or anything I could use, because, really, what can you do in a situation like this? Pretty much all I can do is, like, wait it out... or avoid him or something. Clearly the whole-avoiding thing doesn't really work out for us. And just stopping, if I could really will myself to do that (and, let's face it, if I could, it would be an ideal situation), is even more out of the question. I mean, gee, want a testimonial? Just ask Derek. Proof it doesn't work. I decided it might be wise to tune in to Paul, though.

"...Casey, you can't just... It doesn't work that way. Now, from what you've told me, I'm assuming you don't want to be with Derek, right?" I nodded vigorously, and Paul still looked surprised. We bring out the worst in each other, even if he was interested. Or maybe he just brings out the worst in me. I don't know... I mean, would Derek have done what he did to me to just any other ex, any other girl? No, probably not, and I guess that makes me special. Because just like he was my first, I'm his. Two entirely different firsts, mind you, but there's the same sentiment there. You change afterwards. Either way, I'm not sure it could ever work. Too much has happened between us, maybe.

I don't know. I don't really know anything anymore. I thought I did.

Paul nodded and shrugged, throwing up his hands. "Well, I'm afraid there's not much more I can tell you. All you can do is live with these feelings and try your best to ignore them, I guess, but I don't really think that's very healthy," Paul recommended, looking a bit concerned. Well, telling Derek isn't really an option. And it'd serve no purpose other than to humiliate myself. So the minute I tell him is the minute I lose my effing mind. Blah, blah, blah, I'd better bottle these up. So I smiled at Paul and slowly got up.

"Well, thanks a lot, Paul. It really helped to talk about what I was feeling," I told him. But my smile was fake, and I was completely lying through my teeth, and Paul probably knew that. Because when I came in here, I was not in love with Derek. I mean, sure, I might've been in denial, maybe, but I was really fine with that. And so I come out in love with Derek and having decided to dump my boyfriend. Paul always puts things into perspective. I'd almost think he's manipulating me, but I really don't think he's that good. Paul told me I could talk to him about this any time... but you know, he was pretty cool about the whole thing. Gotta say I appreciate that. I smiled genuinely and waved goodbye. "Bye, Paul! Have a nice day!"

Then I was walking down the hallway when I remembered Sam. I'd agreed to meet him after school, and school wasn't technically out, but if there ever was a day I needed to skip class, today was it. I think Paul would agree with me. It'd been a pretty dramatic, traumatizing day for me, and I had a lot of stuff on my plate. So I went into the bathroom and looked at myself in the mirror. It was like I was looking at someone completely different, looking at myself through entirely new eyes. I sighed and started to fix my make-up.

You know, I really think the thing I hate the most about all of this is the fact that Derek was unequivocally right. He was right when he said there was something there, something more, something not quite normal. He was right when he said I would never really see him as a brother. He was right when he said I was attracted to him. He was right when he said I couldn't resist. He was right when he said he always gets what he wants (but, then again, am I with Derek now? So maybe he's not always right). He was right when he said it meant something. He was even right when he insisted I was in love with him, not that I was at that time, but just look at me now! I always hate it when he's right, and maybe that's one of the reasons I denied it for so long. But, really, can you expect me to just fall easily into loving the bane of my existence?

Or maybe I just finally had the time and the space to think about everything. Without Derek there, consuming my life, a sort of clarity settled in my mind. There was finally room to think, to wonder, to analyze. There were no distractions to stop me from figuring it out, nothing to stand in my way anymore. It's ironic that all it took was Derek not bothering me, not trying to take over my life, to achieve this. So I guess I've got my answer, then. I've got all the answers now.

What did it mean? Why did I choose Derek? Why did I have sex with Derek?

It meant... everything. That I'm in love with him, that it was special. He was good to me while it lasted. Stop me before I gag on the utter sentimentality and nostalgia of it all. I'm in love against my will, and it's exactly as horrible as you'd think it is.

It doesn't feel yet as if I've been torn in two, but just wait because I'm terribly conflicted, and I have a feeling that this is bound to get painful sooner or later. I just know it. Clearly it can't be pleasant to be in love with Derek, and hell, I know from experience that Derek being in love with me wasn't pleasant. It's just something that will have to pass... and it's not like I have this burning desire to tell him because I don't. I'd rather lick sand.

I sighed and left the bathroom, waiting anxiously for Sam. I peered down the hallway, trying hard not to think of Derek. It wasn't really working. Finally, after what seemed an eternity, I spotted Sam. His face promptly broke out into a smile, and he raced over to me like a dog happy to see its master. Damn, this was going to be harder than I thought. I swallowed hard and laced my fingers with his for what could be the last time. "Look, Sam, we need to talk..." I glanced around the hall, adding a moment later, "In private."

Sam nodded and looked a bit gleeful, probably thinking that we'd be doing a lot less talking and a lot more making-out. He was very much mistaken. Anyway, he led me outside to his car. The both of us climbed in and sat there in silence for a moment. Wow, this was going to be awkward. I turned to him, smiling faintly, although I felt more nauseous than happy. I took a deep breath, taking in a last look at him, his face all aglow with an almost childlike enthusiasm. I hated to crush him like this, but I had to. So I steeled myself and said those fateful words. "I think it'd be best for the both of us if we... broke up. For good this time."

My voice was quiet and even but so uncomfortable. I couldn't look at him, and Sam reached out for me. I flinched away from his touch, and saw his face fall out of the corner of my eye. Obviously I was acting so dodgy that he wasn't going to take me at my word. He leaned back against the seat, exhaling heavily. Then he said something that gave me the shock of a lifetime. "Is this because of Derek?" He asked bluntly. How long had I wondered if he knew and just never said anything? The whole time and still no answer.

By that point, I hadn't been expecting any further surprises, so I just about had a heart attack. My head snapped to the side, looking at him with wide eyes. "What?" I just about barked in incredulity, crossing my fingers behind my back that he didn't, couldn't know. But it sounded so much like he did! And him knowing would be such a relief... Seeing the weird look on his face, I backpedaled swiftly, biting my lip. "Um, no..."

Even I knew that didn't sound convincing, but what could I really say. After I said it and tried to look away, Sam grabbed my hands. I was compelled to look at him. He was frowning a little bit and sought to explain. "Because I know he's been giving the both of us a lot of trouble, and he's made it pretty clear he doesn't approve of me dating you, but I don't care what Derek thinks. I love you, Casey, and we can make this work if you're willing to try," He told me somewhat beautifully. I would've been touched by his professions if the situation was different, if so much hadn't happened. If I wasn't in love with freaking Derek Venturi.

Honestly, I have the worst timing. I forced an awkward smile and slipped my hands out of his grip. Relief crashed over me in waves. He had no freaking idea. Bless him. I patted him on the hand awkwardly. "Oh, Sam, I'm sorry... It's not Derek, really," I assured him, all sincerity. Even though everything in me was screaming LIAR, LIAR, LIAR-LIAR, PANTS ON FIRE! Because I'm in love with Derek, and not you, Sam. Just like damn near everything else in my life, this comes back to Derek.

But it wasn't all him, since I'd decided to break up with Sam before I'd even figured out how I felt about Derek. I sighed, frowning a little. I had to do this, but I didn't have to like it. "It's me. I need to do this because it's not fair to either of us," I told him firmly. The break-up really wasn't about Derek; it was about me, and it always had been. I swallowed hard. The next part would be hard to get out, especially with his eyes so soft and trusting like that. "And I don't... I don't feel the way I used to feel about you. I wish I did, but I don't, and I'm sorry for wasting your time. It'd really be better off if we just cut our losses and end this now before one of us gets hurt," I stumbled over the words a little bit. My voice caught a few times, but it rang out clear enough to get my point across.

Sam just looked confused, and I felt genuinely bad for him. "What do you mean, Casey?" He asked, sounding so lost. A part of me felt guilty; the rest of me wanted to roll my eyes at him. After all, I'd been perfectly clear. I hadn't wanted to hurt him...

I tried to smile. "What I mean, Sam, is that we've both changed a lot... We're different people now, and my feelings have changed. I'm sorry, Sam, really... but I'm not in love with you anymore. I can't be your girlfriend anymore," I told him slowly, so he'd catch everywhere. I glanced up at him nervously. Was that enough? Had I said the right thing? Sam's face fell completely as understanding washed over his face. The poor boy looked like he'd been blindsighted. I was surprised at the sadness so blatantly displayed on his face. Really, when had he started caring about me so much?

And I couldn't take looking at him anymore because he did look truly miserable. Apparently he had really loved me... and, honestly, I'd never really been able to believe his feelings were genuine when his every action seemed to point to the opposite. "And, frankly, we both deserve better," I told him candidly, patting his shoulder. I didn't really wait for him to say anything because I didn't really want to hear it. I haven't been a very good girlfriend lately... and he wasn't a good boyfriend to me before this. So why bother deluding ourselves, thinking it could work? I smiled faintly. "Sam, find some other girl and treat her right, okay? You'll be better to her than you were to me, won't you?" I asked hesitantly, feeling my eyes water dangerously.

Seriously, am I going to start crying over this? I mean, I realize he was my first boyfriend, and it's all coming to an end for good... but now is really not the time to be sentimental. I'm doing the both of us a favor by cutting him loose. Sam looked almost like he was going to cry, and I averted my eyes because looking at him was breaking my heart just a little bit, and I really didn't want to start crying. He nodded, though, and I smiled mistily. A part of me will always love him because he was my first love... and you never forget your first love... but I'm not in love with him anymore. Then again, though, you never forget your first either.

"Well, I'd better get going," I said. Derek had probably left without me, assuming he hadn't skipped out to have some more fun (sex) with his new girlfriend. Gag me. I sniffled and waved at him, turning on my heel to go. Maybe I could find Emily? Then again, there was always the bus... Or I could walk home, I guess, but it's a pretty long walk. I didn't expect Sam to say anything more than goodbye, but today's been all about the unexpected, so I really should've expected it.

"Is there someone else?" He blurted, raising his voice a little so I'd hear him. I'd already started walking away by that point, and I froze in my tracks, petrified, and turned around slowly. The guilt was probably written on my face, but I tried to lie anyway.

I shook my head, not trusting my voice for a minute. "No. There's no one else." I said it calmly, smoothly, in a clear tone of voice that didn't even waver. Guess I wasn't convincing enough, though, because he shook his head, clearly not buying it for a second. To be fair, though, his question had essentially come out of nowhere, and I was in no way prepared for such entreaties from my ex-boyfriend. Most of me was concentrated on holding it together and not doing something really stupid like telling anyone other than Paul about the whole Derek fiasco, let alone my newfound feelings for him (because a small, incredibly stupid part of me did sort of want to blurt them out and scream them to the whole world. Being in love is, after all, supposed to be a good, happy thing).

Sam just tilted his head and gave me this look. It reminded me a lot of the skeptical looks Derek had given me. Derek knew me better than that; Sam didn't. True, I am a bad liar in a lot of respects, but I've got to be pretty good if I was sleeping with my stepbrother and no one noticed. Paul's the only one who found out about Derek and me, and that's because I told him. He only knows what I told him, not all the gory details. "You're a terrible liar, Casey." He smiled wryly and continued. "I knew there was someone else. You've been so different lately. The whole time, ever since we got back together, your mind's been elsewhere. I always knew. I knew by the way you never touched me, the way you seemed so scared and distracted. And I..." Here he paused, looking conflicted.

He sighed, smiling weakly. But, Sam, didn't you notice that I only touched you when Derek was around? Oh, God, was I trying to make Derek jealous? But I'd known that even then. I waited with baited breath for what he was going to say. Did he know? "I can't blame you for it, Casey. For a lot of our relationship, I was a terrible boyfriend to you, and I'm so sorry for that. I didn't want to hurt you, and I had no right to treat you that way... I know I don't deserve your forgiveness, but it means a lot to me that someone like you could ever forgive me for what I did. You're too good for me, and you deserve so much better than what I have to offer," Sam told me in a voice that was both resigned and immensely respectful. I hadn't noticed it, but he'd slowly moved close to me, and he was holding both of my hands. I didn't mind, caught up in the sweetness of the gesture.

I'd forgotten that he could be like this, sweet and kind and understanding. For a second, it made me reconsider my decision. Here he was, saying all the things I'd wanted to hear, but it was too late. I smiled at him faintly, and Sam continued, looking shamed for his conduct. "I was an idiot, and I'm sorry for not appreciating you until it was too late. I didn't realize what I had until you were gone... Anyway, I won't be so stupid again. If I ever meet another girl like you, I'll never let her go," He swore to me. I was a little surprised at his earnestness and just barely managed to bite down a question about his sexuality and whether or not he could just as easily meet a boy he'd never want to let go. Considering the circumstances, it seemed somewhat inappropriate.

Sam smiled at me gently then, squeezing my hands affectionately. "I just hope he loves you half as much as I do," He said, blessing me. I beamed back and hugged him hard, taking him off guard. It made me so happy to know that he understood. It was one of few conversations I'd had that day that had actually made me feel good about myself, and the whole break-up had gone so much more smoothly than I'd expected. I appreciated him immensely in that moment. I pressed a kiss to his cheek, thanking him.

And, of course, that's when Derek freaking Venturi had to once again intrude on my life. I wasn't looking at him, but I think he was angry. Next thing I know, I'm hearing his voice, snapping at me. "Hey, Princess, I know it's hard to tear yourself away from your little Sammy-Whammy, but if you keep it up, I'm gonna puke from the sappiness of it all. I, on the other hand, have better things to do than wait for you two to stop playing kissy-face, so why don't you just cut it out or I'll just leave your ass here?" Derek practically growled. I couldn't tell if he was really just pissed at me or if he was actually jealous.

It wasn't like I was really doing anything with Sam. But is it completely awful that the possibility that he wasn't as indifferent as he pretended made my stupid little heart flutter? Yes, yes it is. I can't allow myself to feel the slightest bit of warmth for him. Or, at least, to show it. I knew I'd probably falter if I so much as looked at Derek, because I'd been doing that all day, and I completely wasn't used to feeling this way and had to get used to it. So I did pull away from Sam, shooting him an embarrassed smile, but I didn't look at Derek. After all, that seemed to work SO well for him. "Yeah, like what? What do you have to do that's so much better? Screw my slutty cousin? Because last time I checked, you did that on your lunch break. I would think you'd be sick of it by now," I retorted icily.

Trust me, I didn't have to look to know he was smirking. "She wouldn't be my girlfriend if I was sick of it." I couldn't quite decide whether that was a compliment or an insult to myself. Anyway, a moment later, Derek repeated his threat. "Now, seriously, Sis, stop staring dreamily into Sam's eyes, or I'm going to ditch you," He persisted irritably. I stiffened but didn't really move or look at him.

Why is he suddenly everywhere I am today? Especially when he's been avoiding me for weeks! "That shouldn't be a problem for you, Derek. God knows you've had enough practice stranding me places. And that's not even bringing into account all those girls you've just left high and dry, now is it?" I rejoined rather irritably. Because he really didn't give a crap about driving me anymore. He'd stopped for the most part when we'd "gone to war", and since he'd been avoiding me for the past weeks, we hadn't had any alone time in ages. Am I bitter about that? I sound bitter. Ugh.

I could sense him rolling his eyes at me. "Chillax, Drama Queen. And, seriously, stop standing in the hallway like that. You look like a freaking idiot, which, of course, you already were, but people are going to think you're Special Ed if you stay there much longer." I rolled my eyes, crossing my arms over my chest. Sam looked confused and mildly amused. He was, predictably, no help. Derek can say many things about me, but I am not the stupid one. And, besides, I didn't see him storming over here to do anything about it. So why bother, even if he is my ride home?

"Oh, bite me, Derek!" I muttered off-handedly, directing the remark over my shoulder. I shouldn't have said it because I knew he'd make some dirty comment. But that comment was apparently his trigger, because suddenly I could feel him behind me, standing too close, and I thought I was going to overheat and die from his mere proximity.

He swept my hair aside easily, holding it back and leaning in close to my ear. His breath was hot on my neck; I could almost feel his lips on my ear. And the whole thing was, of course, driving me completely insane. Because I just about wanted to turn around and jump him right there, despite my brain knowing it to be an impossibility. "Oh, Sister Dear, but I already have," He whispered huskily, lips forming into the smirk I knew so well. I swear, I thought I was going to melt into a puddle on the floor. I shuddered involuntarily, and then Derek tugged on my ear.

Naturally, I was pissed and, strangely, disappointed, so I whirled around right away and lunged after him. Of course, he ducked, and I crashed to the floor. Guess where I landed? Just guess... Right at the feet of Truman French. Was that better or worse than landing at Derek's feet, I wonder? He smiled, or, rather, smirked, and leaned down to offer me a hand. "Falling for me again, Case?" I scowled at him and slapped his hand away, pushing myself up. "Twice in one day... When did I get so lucky?" You're not gonna get lucky, which is kinda why we broke up, in a roundabout way, isn't it? As I recall, my slutty cousin pretty much orchestrated that break-up too. And I thought she'd ruined my life then. Ha!

"When I became unlucky," I replied stoically, trying to move past him. What a douchebag.

He smiled again. Smarmy bastard. "Well, it isn't every day that a girl like you falls at my feet."

I rolled my eyes at him. "Apparently you seem to think so." Player. I glowered at him and once again tried to pass him. Just let me pass. I mean, really, what are the odds? Stalk me much?

He shook his head and got in my way, and opened his mouth, no doubt to spout some more crap. At that very moment, fortunately for me, Sam came up and took my hand, pulling me away from Truman. I was beyond grateful. I could've kissed him, but that would've been misleading. Though it probably would've pissed Derek off. I smiled at Sam and thanked him warmly. He had a look in his eyes that reminded me of our previous conversation. As he said goodbye, I thought of the words I was going to say, finally glancing over at Derek, who looked just about ready to carry me off like a caveman. Only not to have sex with me, duh. He did, that's what I was going to say. I looked at Derek rather sadly and waved to Sam again before walking back over to Derek.

He did, once.

But does he anymore?

See, told you! This whole... wanting Derek thing... it really sucks.

Loren ;*

Love you guys! Review please!