Following what Derek privately considered one of the most crushing failures of his life to date, a few additional incidents served to salt the wound.
No matter how hard he tried, anything other than fighting with Casey was difficult. Their ability to get along had completely been destroyed. Every moment that wasn't filled with an insult was filled with an impulse that refused to let up.
She felt him watch her; he felt her eyes follow him. But they never met, ever.
If that didn't serve to effectively solidify a few months' worth of rumination material for sleepless nights, the next incident surely did.
"Casey and Max are back together again?" Sam asked, watching as she took his hand and accepted a kiss.
Derek wanted to vomit whenever he saw them. He wanted to hate Casey for giving in to him, but he couldn't. She was taking comfort where she could find it; he did the same with the girls he met, each never lasting much longer than the one prior.
"I guess." He muttered darkly.
It wasn't the romance she dreamed of, Casey was sure. When she kissed him, she pictured Derek. When he touched her, she pictured Derek.
Derek, Derek, Derek.
It was ruining everything.
A month later, Max told her he couldn't be with her. He didn't feel she felt the same way. He hoped she would say she was just busy, that she'd try to be more attentive.
"I'm sorry, Max. It was…it's not someone I met recently. I thought I was ready."
The last bit was a lie, but he believed her.
Casey sighed. There was only one other option. She wasn't sure she really liked the idea herself, but she needed to do something.
"Mom," she said, poking her head into the bedroom where Nora was reading, "Can I talk to you?"
The smile her mother gave her made her feel worse, but she entered the room and sat beside her mother on the end of the bed.
"There's a school," she started, "in New York, it has a program where I can finish high school early and start college as soon as senior year starts here. It also has a really, really good financial aid program and—"
"You want to move in with your father?" her mother interjected.
Casey sighed. "I know he's not home a lot, and that's okay, I'll be busy too and I'm old enough now, to manage things on my own. It would really help with money, and there's a good drama program that would be really fun, but it would better than having to fill up my last year with a ton of electives."
Her mother looked at her with what seemed to be pride, but sadness as well. "I'd need to read about this myself and talk with the school before I even thought about allowing it. Have you talked to your father?"
"Not yet. I wanted to ask you first." She said, putting her hand on her mother's.
"Seems like yesterday you were just asking me to tie your shoes, and now you want to go to New York," Nora replied, forcing a smile, "Give me the information you have and I'll look into it this week, okay?"
Her daughter nodded and gave her a hug. "I love you, mom."
"I love you too, Casey."
o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o
While the break up with Max secretly helped bring Derek's spirits up slightly, Casey made it clear nothing had changed between them as a result. They couldn't be civil with one another to begin with, but she was hiding something.
He could tell because she was distant from everyone in the house, everyone at school. Emily had to ask him what was wrong with her.
Despite how he asked, though, she wouldn't tell him what it was.
"Go away, Derek," she would icily respond, crossing her arms, "It's none of your business."
"Please, Case?" he said softly, "It's not…nothing bad?"
He chose to sacrifice any opportunity for fun for the next few weeks and skipped the last half of his day to find out. The places she hid things hadn't changed, so he figured it would be easy.
Except he couldn't find anything. Nothing in her diary (though she did mention she found his smirk sexy and that the body wash he had to use instead of his usual was, in her words, 'something only Derek could make appealing') indicated anything amiss, except for something about feeling impatient.
He searched the room twice. Whatever it was that was making her wait, he wasn't finding it in a tangible form. Derek's eyes flickered to her computer.
Guessing her password was tricky. She would purposefully pick something Derek wouldn't immediately think of, possibly something neutral. He tried the name of her favorite class with her graduating year, the name of Smarti's new stuffed elephant, and, out of vanity, 'CaseyVenturi'.
No dice.
He heard the phone ring, the machine picked up. He rushed down the stairs to listen to the disembodied voice in the air.
"Hello Mrs. Venturi, this is Anya Harris, calling about your inquiries regarding the advanced program at Lincoln Central. I've reviewed your daughter's transcripts that you've faxed over and I believe she could be a good fit for the program and could start as soon as next semester, so please give me a call back—"
Derek ignored the rest of the message, dashing up to his computer. Lincoln Central. Where the fuck was that and why where they calling?
According to the school's website, it was a program that combined high school and college education provided the student was a junior or senior and met the qualifications. It was unique from many other options because not only did it expose students to postsecondary academia earlier, it prepared them for the elite.
It was in New York.
Casey could wax poetic about school all she wanted, he knew she was doing it because of them. Because of him.
Deleting the message was something he couldn't resist. He knew Casey would never forgive him if he concealed that from her, and no matter how much he wanted her to stay, he couldn't do that to her. So he wrote down the details of the message, including the number, and put it in his desk drawer.
o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o
Casey dragged herself home, rolling her eyes at the sight of the Prince in the driveway. "Figures," she muttered to herself, letting herself into the house and heading upstairs. She had more than enough work to keep her busy, getting Derek to leave her alone was a nuisance she didn't look forward to.
He was leaning against the doorway of her bedroom, a slow smirk tilting his lips, making her stomach stir.
Narrowing her eyes, she said, "I don't have time for whatever it is you're up to."
The boy shrugged casually, raising her suspicion further. "I just have a question."
"For the last time, I'm not hiding anything. Not that it would be any of your business, whatever it is you think I'm doing," Casey responded sharply, slipping past him to put her things on her bed. She noted he had used his usual body wash this time. The impulse she was busy stifling grew.
"So the woman that called about, whasssitcalled, the program at Lincoln Center just happens to have the wrong house? How unfortunate, someone should inform her that she has the wrong grade-grubber."
Ice began to run through her veins, causing a pit of panic to fester. She turned, the panic evident on her face.
"You're planning on moving to New York, then? What, just going to slip off in the middle of the night? Play pretend?" He continued, his tone growing cooler, anger seeping into his eyes.
Casey sighed, sinking down to the floor. "Do you hate me?"
The question took him by surprise. "No, I mean, I'm mad, McDonald, trust me, but…" he trailed off when he realized she was crying.
He let out a groan. "Case, come on, it's awkward when you don't yell at me."
A brief pause passed. He silently told himself he wouldn't do anything stupid and sat beside her. "Come on, call me a jerk or something for deleting the message, at least. Use a big word. That'll make you feel better."
"It's for the best, you know. And I do want to go." She murmured, wiping her eyes.
"Right," Derek muttered, "Keep telling that to yourself, spaz."
"How do you know what I want and don't want?" he heard her snap indignantly, "You think you know everything about me because you read my diary?"
Finally. Derek thought, something to work with. "If you really wanted to go, you wouldn't be crying on your floor, and you wouldn't be hiding it from anyone, and you'd be talking about it nonstop. Trust me, I've had to listen to you go on forever about whatever project you're on, it's really lame."
He paused, considering his next statement. "You'd still miss me, you'd think of me whenever you tricked yourself into liking the next convenient guy. That isn't going anywhere." His hands found hers, their fingers interlacing.
"How would you know?" Casey said softly, intending it to come out harshly, but couldn't muster it.
"Because, Casey, I miss you even when you're in the room next to mine." Derek said, "When I saw you with Max, I wanted to rip his head off. I said I needed you, and it was the truth, but it's more than that. As much as you irritate the hell out of me and as much as I just don't get you, I still want to kiss you right now. I don't even care that it doesn't really make sense to me."
She didn't respond, hiding the smile behind her hair.
"I'm asking for you to, just once, stop overthinking every little detail. You're better at making the rules than I am, because you're weird like that, but we already broke this one. You can make your lame rules and your stupid lists and figure how all this fits in your calendar later. Christ, Casey, your rambling is contag—."
"Shut up," she said, pulling him in for a kiss. In the corner of his eyes, he saw the door remained open, and moved to lock it.
Turning to find her having moved to sit on her bed, he smirked. "You've got new secrets to keep, Venturi," Casey said, just before his lips found hers again.
Sometime after, when the telltale sounds of the rest of the McDonald-Venturi clan arrived, they parted ways, opening textbooks and finding pencils.
Derek unlocked the door, just before Edwin knocked. "Yo, Ed, what are you doing?"
"Why are you in Casey's room?" he asked.
"She's helping me with history."
"But she's holding a math book." Edwin pointed out.
"It's a trade. He helps with math, I help with history." Casey supplied quickly.
"Right, about that, I lied," Derek responded smoothly, "I can't help you with math. Thanks for the answers to the homework you already had in your notebook, though."
"De-rek!" cried the girl, right on cue.
"Okay, well, I'm just going to go somewhere where the next world war isn't happening." Edwin muttered, walking away wishing he hadn't said anything.
"Actually, I was serious about the homework, you left your notebook here when you left for school." Derek said after he was gone, holding a notebook up with a smirk.
"You—"
"Have fun with your lists!" He said in lieu of a farewell.
That night, as they were doing the dishes, Nora was told her daughter wanted to continue attending school there, because she had decided leaving wasn't what she really wanted to do yet. Secretly she was relieved, but found herself wondering what changed.
Casey seemed happy, and she supposed that was all that mattered. "I'm glad. I would have missed you."
"Yeah, me too," Derek said sarcastically, depositing the last of the dirty dishes on the counter and evidently eavesdropping on the conversation.
"You'd miss getting free homework to steal," Casey pointed out, raising an eyebrow. The euphemism was clear to him.
"Yeah, maybe a little," he responded nonchalantly before leaving the room.
She ducked her head to hide the smile growing on her face from her mother, who was busy packaging up the leftovers.
Casey had to admit Derek had a point. Breaking the rules could be fun.
But sometimes they came with consequences.