Dear Paul Two,

I am utterly mortified. I can't even begin to tell you just how mortified I am—which only goes to sure that I am completely, horribly mortified. I supposed I'll start with dinner.

It was a simple dinner. Mom cooked, we ate, Derek annoyed. He recounted his tale of victory from lunch to Edwin, who only encouraged him despite George's disapproval. I tried to divert the table's attention.

"I made a new friend today. She'll be coming over soon to work on our project on Emily Barrett Browning."

Mom approved. "Oh, that's wonderful! You know, she always was my favorite poet."

"You read poetry?" George asked, and my mom rolled her eyes.

"And what exactly do you think those books on the bedside stand are?" she said back.

"That's where Casey and I got our love of reading from. Mom used to read to us every night, poetry and novels," Lizzie chipped in, and I nodded.

"I get a lot of my personality from mom," I said. "Isn't it obvious?"

Derek laughed. "That's so weird, because Nora is waaaay cooler than super-keener Space Case."

"Thank you," Mom said before thinking.

"Mo-om!"

"I mean, Der-ek! Your sister is not a super-keener!" she responded, nudging George.

He took the hint. "Derek, don't tease your sister. Just let her be a keener."

"I'm not a keener!" I snapped, standing up with my hands on the table. "I swear, you guys don't even know what I'm like. I'm going to be really cool really soon, so I guess you may as well get your cheap shots in now. I'll be too busy at parties later to listen to your insults then." I huffed and puffed and pouted, in what Emily would call my theatrical-mode. The family didn't take this seriously, though, with everyone snickering under their breath. "I'm going to go to my room and start studying for when Kendra gets here. Thanks for dinner, Mom." My voice was sour, but Mom didn't seem upset.

"So, her name is Kendra then? I'll be seeing you two later," Derek said with a smarmy grin.

I stomped my foot and started to storm off to my room, but not before the box on Lizzie's lap caught my eye—she always did put her fresh new animal friends in a shoebox, and she was oddly quiet at dinner. I made my way up the stairs huffily but I knew I had the biggest, stupidest grin on my face because I just found my mice, and that meant Derek wouldn't be smiling for long at all.

Kendra came over at 8, only an hour later than we were supposed to meet. It took a while to get her to stuff rambling about her life and focus on our project. By the time I thought we were about to get somewhere, Derek came to mess it all up. I was explaining to her my favorite sonnet when suddenly my computer screen went black and she said someone had pulling the plug with a hockey stick—I'll give you three guesses who that was, and the first two don't count.

When I went out into the hall to confront him, he was obviously in the other direction from which I walked. This means I missed the opportunity to rip into him about respecting personal property, but did get to hear him talk to Kendra for a minute as I walked back to my room. He stumbled over his words, and it sounded like he even stumbled over his own feet for a moment. It was like my so-called klutzilla syndrome was contagious. I daresay it was endearing, save for the part that he's a jerky, immature baby.

Of course, when I got the computer back on, all my work was gone. I was beyond frustrated, and it didn't help when Kendra asked if Derek was single. I didn't even dignify her question with a response—what do I look like, his keeper? It's one thing if she has the worst taste in guys, but a complete other thing if she thinks I'm going to help her. Besides, he's a total slacker, which is the exact opposite influence she needs to pass this English project. She went home just a little later, living me to work on the project alone, as I almost always do. At least Emily stays and chats about boys with me while I work.

After I finished a good deal of work, I went to have a chat with Lizzie.

"Couldn't help but notice your shoebox at the dinner table," I started, closing the door to her room quietly behind me. "Did you find some furry new friends?"

Her eyes widened. "You're not going to tell anyone, are you? Howie and Mavis just wanted to stay inside, away from the cold."

"No, I'm not going to tell," I replied, shaking my head. "I don't really think Mom would mind anyway. I was just hoping to borrow, ah, Howie and Mavis for a few minutes. I won't even let them out of the box if you don't want me to. They'll be safe and sound and I'll return them right away. Promise."

Lizzie nodded. "This is to get Derek back, isn't it?" It was my turn to nod. "As long as you promise you'll return them in perfect condition, you can borrow them real quickly. Just don't get them confiscated or anything. Deal?"

"Deal." I took the box and headed over to Derek's room. With impeccable timing, he exited the bathroom just as I was about to knock on his door.

"Can I help you?" he asked, standing with one hand holding up the towel wrapped around his waist. I looked up immediately to keep my gaze from taking in the few of his mostly naked body—how rude does he get? He knows that me or Lizzie or Marti or Mom could be in the halls anytime and he's still too lazy to carry his clothes into the bathroom pre-shower? It seriously takes like 2 more seconds. He snaps his fingers in front of my face and I look back down as he opens his bedroom door. "What are you doing outside my room?"

I gulp, watching the space between his shoulder blades as he steps into his room. I step in behind him and close the door almost all the way.

"What exactly are you trying to do?" he asks, clearly alarmed by my behavior but playing it cool. I hold up the closed shoe box in response.

"I wanted to show you something. Since you were so nice to me today," I answer with a sickeningly sweet smile. He glances down at it and then back to my eyes.

"I figure we're even now, right?"

"Derek, you erased my homework and put a gummy worm in my sandwich. We are nowhere near even. But we will be." I shake the box for a second before realizing there's living things instead and mentally apologizing to the poor mice. His eyes flick back down. He holds out his free hand in protest.

"Casey. Casey, what's in the box? It better not be what I think it is."

I tilt my head to the side. "Whatever do you mean?"

"Casey, seriously, whatever it is, don't. Just don't. I'm begging you. No, I'm telling you. I will get you back." He's circling around his bed to get away now, but I pursue him in just a few lengthy steps.

"Just wanted you to meet my friends Howie and Mavis," I say as open the box as quickly as possible, shoving it right under his nose. I get the response I expected—a high pitched screech as he flailed arms upwards and jumped onto the bed. What I didn't calculate into my plan was him dropping the towel that was keeping him at all modest. As he flipped out on his bed I was confronted, at direct face level, with my step-brothers… manhood. His member was literally right in my face. I dropped the box and threw my hands over my eyes.

"Did you just drop them?!" Derek shouted. "Why would you do that?!" I peeked through my fingers just in time to see him stop flailing and look down. He stood for a second, staring at himself. I followed the hair trailing down his belly until it connected with his pubic hair, which surrounded his flaccid penis. I've seen penises on the internet, I'll admit. I've watched porn. I'm sure all teenagers have at some point. But I've never seen a penis when it wasn't hard, and I've never seen a penis up close in real life. Until today. And of course, of course it would be Derek's. I lifted my eyes up to catch his.

"Get. Out," he hissed. I grabbed the box and ran towards the door. I heard him step off the bed, but then he squeaked loudly and I turned to see him lifting his feet. I ran back over, and luckily Howie and Mavis were still there as he hopped around them. I bent down and scooped them into the box as quickly as possible. I stood and confronted him face to face.

"I apologize for everything that just happened," I said, staring into his eyes. They burned with anger; I am familiar with the look. I reached over and grabbed the towel he had dropped. "I hope we can forget this, put the past behind us, and never speak about it again."

"Out!" he shouted again, and this time I obeyed immediately. I shut the door behind me and ran to Lizzie.

"Thank you for the use of your friends," I said, out of breath.

"How'd it go?" she asked. "I heard him screaming. Was he really scared?"

I nodded. "Yes. Now let's never talk about this again. Please."

With that, I was out of her room and back to mine. It's been a long night—a long day, really, and my mind is racing. I'm anything but tired. At the same time, I'm physically and mentally exhausted, just not in the needing-sleep way. It's more of a needing-the-world-to-stop-spinning-so-fast way.

I can't stop the world from spinning, though, and I can't stop thinking. I can't stop thinking of Kendra liking Derek, or Derek liking Kendra, or seeing Derek's junk, or going to college parties. I wonder if we'll really go to parties and if Derek is as smooth and soft as he looks. I wonder if he used lotion to jack off like Sam once admitted he does, and I wonder if Kendra will ever help with the project. Most of all, I wonder what I'm going to tell Emily tomorrow when I see her. She is definitely going to want to hear about my day.

Yours awkwardly,

Casey