Once Derek had managed to escape from Kendra's incessant chattering by lamely stating that "the grade-grubber needed to get to school early", he felt lethargic.
He didn't notice the way the comment made Casey's earlier warmth toward him disappear.
Perhaps because he spent most of the morning agonizing over what he'd say to Casey. And then Kendra came along, and his numerous internal pep talks and confidence builders had just crashed all around him.
What had he been thinking? Derek didn't do cutesy crap like buy coffee and have heart-to-hearts about his flaws.
That was what was driving him nuts, he decided, Casey's expectations for things to be like a real relationship when they obviously couldn't.
He did care about her, but not enough to prove it, not enough to do something to prove he wanted to keep her around. He was taking the easy way out, he knew. He always did.
"Are you going to start the car?" Casey muttered, jolting him out of his thoughts.
He cleared his throat, "Yeah. Don't worry, Case. You aren't going to have your virginal record ruined today."
"Unlike yours," Casey commented coolly. She took her compact mirror out, fixed her hair. Derek eyed her for a second, feeling almost sick, because she looked vaguely like Kendra then. Kendra had been a mistake. He wasn't sure yet if Casey was a mistake too.
He started the car, barely missing the Volkswagen that honked at him as he backed out.
"Derek! God, watch where you're going! I'd like both of us to get to school intact." She snapped, "Do I need to give you another driver's ed lesson?"
"So noble, Case. Tell me, do you offer these things to pretend you're a goody-goody, or do you really not see how much you love to pretend you're so much better than me?" Derek rallied back, anger growing, spreading, in the cramped space between them.
"Oh, forgive me Derek, for bruising that oversized ego of yours, I'd forgotten how much more dear it was to you than anything else," Casey all but snarled in return.
A car honked at them, pulling them out of their acerbic banter. Derek tossed her a glare and chose to drop whatever pointed comment he was going to give her in order to actually arrive to their next destination.
When they arrived to the parking lot, still nearly empty, the anger and words left unsaid hung in the air remained.
"Thanks for the coffee." Casey said, swallowing down whatever icy insult she had in reserve, "I'll catch the bus home."
She turned to leave, and Derek responded sarcastically, "What, no thank you kiss for me, on account of us getting here safely and all? If you're mad, Casey, don't hold back on my account. I don't have feelings like glass."
That riled her up. She turned to look at him, eyes flaring up again, cheeks reddening, "You know what, Derek? I was trying not to fight with you because that's all we seem to do lately. I'm sick of this. I'm sick of making up and hoping things will be better only to turn around and find us fighting again five minutes later over stupid, inconsequential shit. I have better things to do than fight with you like a five-year-old."
There was a brief pause, as Casey realized what she said. That wasn't fair, she told herself. She wanted to apologize, but predictably, Derek set her off before the rational idea came to fruition.
"What are you trying to say, Case?" he snarled, "I'm not good enough for you?"
She fiddled with her backpack. "I've got to go."
No answer was worse than any retort she could have given him as an answer. Derek grabbed her arm.
She pulled her arm back wordlessly and hurled the car door open, stomping off, Derek presumed, to a particular counselor who didn't get paid enough to deal with her crap.
He sighed, rested his head against the window. The ironic thing was that sometimes it seemed they'd gotten along more when they hadn't started their relationship.
The incompatibility of them was starting to take its toll, and Derek could feel the faint sense of a final blow-out, and an end to them. Completely.
He didn't know it, and it wouldn't have made him feel better, but he was right about where the dark-haired girl, boiling with anger, was headed.
When Casey opened his door viciously, Paul sighed, simply sipping his coffee. "Take a seat." She obeyed, finding comfort in the familiar ripped cushions and the faint smell of old, withered books.
Paul's desk was in complete disarray, and he forced a smile, looking exhausted.
Her relationship with Derek was like a plague, it made her more exhausting than usual, clearly she hadn't been paying attention. At that notion, she promptly burst into tears. How had everything turned into such a mess?
Casey did not consider that there were other explanations for Paul's reaction, like her interrupting his morning rendezvous with his coffee.
Paul cleared his throat. "So. I'm assuming it's Derek again?"
He knew her too well. It would be easier if she could tell him the truth, tell him why everything was so much worse than before, so much more destructive, but she couldn't. Paul knew that something was going on, that something out of the ordinary, but she hoped at least that he couldn't pinpoint the why.
The man handed her the box of tissues. She accepted them gratefully, taking a few minutes to calm herself.
"It's not like before. We're both having these screaming matches, trying to one-up each other, trying to win this game of…of something." Casey said aloud, and realized it didn't sound like anything particularly new. Paul regarded her silently, trying not to sigh.
"Of what, Casey?" The man asked, still wondering why he'd chosen to go to work early.
"I don't know what, Paul, but it's not just affecting us. George and my mother have officially stopped trying to ease the fights, and it's only a matter of time before it affects Lizzie and Edwin and Marti too." Paul watched her slump in her chair, tiredness and surrender in her eyes.
She was falling apart too, and finally, he could see that. She was the one suffering the brunt of it, overall. It was something more than just regular Casey-and-Derek fights.
"Casey," Paul said gently, "I think you're both stressed about something, and you're expressing it through anger. Have you tried to sit down and talk, actually talk, to Derek about this? About how hurtful and bad it is for not just you and him, but the rest of the family?"
"No," Casey muttered darkly, "It's Derek. He wouldn't listen to me, he'd just call me a freak and close the door on me."
"You need to try. Try to talk to him, because if you don't try, you won't know if Derek realizes this too. And maybe, for the sake of the family, you two could agree to ease up."
"But we don't know how to, Paul! That's the worst part of this whole thing!"
Paul sighed, knowing he was going to regret his next answer. "Talk to him. And if you can get through to him, then we can set up an appointment in my office. I can help you Casey, but you need to make sure you help him too."
If it got Casey to do what he asked, maybe he wouldn't have to be involved at all. Yeah, right, Paul thought to himself.
"Okay, Paul. I'll try." Casey said weakly, unable to think of any other excuse or concern. He was right. Something had to be done.
The bell rang shrilly, causing Casey to flinch, and she stood up. She forced a smile at him.
"Thanks, Paul. I know my stress is wearing on you too."
And before Paul could explain, she was out the door. Paul sighed. He really, really hoped that this would end soon.
When Casey shut the door behind her, Derek grabbed her before she could dart away from him, not knowing she was looking for him anyway.
"Derek," Casey said, before he could utter a word, "Tonight, midnight. We need to talk." She looked at him seriously.
"Why?" he said icily.
"Just be there," Casey snapped, and left before he could grab her.
He scoffed.
He knew exactly where this was going.
His question had been answered: Casey was officially the biggest mistake he had made.