It was September fourteenth—Derek had barely made a dent into the school year. That alone was enough to make him scowl. Kendra's appearance beside him—while not entirely detested, they were friends after all—didn't help matters.

"Derek," Kendra began, and her voice made him pay attention to her.

The blonde stopped, and he stopped with her, cringing at her deep-set frown and blazing eyes. He knew that look. That was Jealous Kendra. And Jealous Kendra was not one to be taken lightly.

"You need to flirt with the new girl. And you need to make sure she stays away from Trevor."

Derek rolled his eyes and sighed. "I'm sure you're overreacting. And I don't date freaks."

"Overreacting?" said Kendra viciously; the apple in her hand leaking as she held it in a death grip, "Overreacting would be taking that fake-pale head of hers and ripping it off!"

The apple squirted all over her shirt and she huffed, throwing it on the ground.

Derek wisely chose not to comment.

"Get rid of her, Derek. You're the only one who can do this."

And before he could say a word, she tilted her lips into a cheery smile, giving him a sideways hug before skipping away.

Derek shuddered. Kendra needed medication.

As Derek trudged to History class (he was debating on whether to skip class or not) the new girl was headed in his direction.

She didn't even look at him as she tinkered with her locker. He stopped, turned around. Put a charming smile on.

"Hey," Derek began.

She looked at him, one eyebrow raised. Her lips tilted into a smirk and she put one hand on her hip.

"Yeah?" she asked, looking positively tickled at his segue into a conversation.

"I think we should go out." He said, just as confidently.

Cue eyebrow raise. She pursed her lips, drawing attention to the two piercings on her lower lip. She had jet black hair, golden eyes and a figure somewhere underneath the baggy jeans and unbuttoned boy's polo. Her tank top underneath the white polo revealed a small waist, and a petite frame.

"How about—" she began, and was cut off by a shrill voice.

"De-rek Venturi!" cried Casey, who was on her way from the bathroom, "Go to class, you idiot!"

Casey stopped at his side and shot him a glare, whilst lecturing him on the value of education. Derek shoved her away—he ignored her huff—and returned his attention onto the girl in front of him.

She raised her left brow, and it glinted in the light—what was up with all the piercings?

"Who was that?" she asked, a glint in her eyes.

"My loser stepsister." Derek said offhandedly.

"I think I'll accept your proposition for a date, Mr. Venturi."

They traded house and phone info, and she left, hiding a smirk.

o-o-o-o-o

Paulie Landar was a very odd girl, decided Derek. She'd accepted his date, but she had one condition—to have it at his place.

Derek readily agreed, realizing he wouldn't have to fake interest in her as much if she was distracted by the other members of their family.

Nora grumbled at the thought of a stranger at dinner—she'd had her share of bimbos—but couldn't say no, and set an extra plate.

When the clock struck five, Paulie rand the doorbell seconds after.

"Hey, dude." stated Paulie, when Derek answered the door.

Dude? What was she, a guy? Girls were supposed to giggle and become all airheaded around him, not brush past him to get into the house and call him dude.

His date settled in very nicely at dinner, he noted. As the bread rolls were being passed around, Casey came down the stairs, hair up, makeup off.

"Hey, guys."

"Hey, freak." mumbled Derek.

"Don't call her that!"

Everyone stared at their houseguest in surprise.

"It's not nice," the dark-haired girl finished lamely.

There was a silence after that.

So, of course, Nora had to comment on her facial jewelry.

"How old are you?" asked George, sizing her up on the delinquent scale.

"Seventeen," answered Paulie, after slurping a particularly long noodle.

"Do you like the color purple?" asked Marti loudly.

Paulie smiled. "Of course I like the color purple. Who doesn't like purple?"

"Smerek says it's girly."

Paulie smirked, raising a brow. She shot him a glance. "Well, if a guy who insists on being called Smerek doesn't like purple, than he has some issues, don't you think?"

"Major ones," added Casey dryly.

"Since when was it Beat-on-Derek Day?" Derek grumbled.

"Did we get the day wrong? Sorry, let's reschedule. It's not painful enough for him, guys."

"I only asked you out because of Kendra, you know." Said Derek snidely.

"Figures. That is one high-strung girl." Paulie murmured coolly.

Casey smirked, and it wasn't unnoticed by Paulie.

"So, Casey," She began, "Word is that you're a reader. What do you like to read?"

How did she know Casey's name? She wasn't supposed to know Casey's name! Hell, Casey was supposed to be glaring at his date right now, not falling hook, line, and sinker for some lame segue like "What kind books do you read?"; he could have done better than that!

Then it hit him. Paulie wasn't on a date with him.

Paulie was on a date with Casey.

He suddenly wasn't very hungry anymore, and simply glared at the girl next to him as she began to talk about Catcher in the Rye.

o-o-o-oo-o-o-o—oo-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-oo-oo-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o

"…Nobody ever gets the symbolism, Casey. Most kids our age are stupid and undernourished." Paulie sighed, leaning against the mattress, Casey sitting crosslegged parallel to her.

Casey stayed silent for a moment, and the other girl took the chance to drink her in—the blue eyes, the toned stomach, the amazing legs. Well, she was guessing, mostly—Casey was wearing jeans and a tanktop. Butdamn, what she wouldn't do to see that girl in a bikini.

"I didn't think you'd be into books like me," Casey murmured, and a small smile tilted her lips, "I'm glad one of Derek's dates finally has a brain,"

Paulie laughed. "I'm not on a date with him. Do you see him anywhere? I'm with you right now."

Casey wasn't sure what to make of that comment, and the confusion was evident in her eyes. So Paulie hastily changed the subject. "What's the story with him, anyway?"

Casey's eyes lit up at that—any chance to vent about Derek would never slip away—and she began her rant.

o-o-o-oo-o-o-o—oo-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-oo-oo-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o

"Why would he dye your hair blue? That's so mean," Paulie muttered.

"That's Derek for you."

"He'll get a reality check, Case. Don't worry."

Case. She had called her Case. Derek, only a room away, growled at this and began pacing the floor again, not entirely sure why he was so angry, but either way, he did not like this Paulie chick at all. What kind of a name was Paulie, anyway?

He burst out of his room and stood in Casey's door way, eyes alight. Paulie stared him down, a familiar little mischievous twinkle in her eyes, smirk on her lips.

"Don't you have to go home or something?" Derek asked roughly, making his dislike for her apparent.

"Well, what fun is that?" Paulie asked with a little pout, "Our date isn't over yet."

Casey laughed at this. Paulie smirked at him again, and he swore he could see the ha-ha, sucks for you! in her eyes.

Paulie stretched her arms, and took a look at her watch. "Though, in all honesty," she said, "I probably should head out."

"Okay, well," Casey stoop up with her, "I'll walk you to the door."

That girl had Casey walking her to the door?

"Don't," Derek said sharply, "She's my date."

"And I like Casey better." Said Paulie frankly, taking Casey's hand and shuffling down the stairs. Their hands stayed intertwined.

"Yeah, I know." Derek muttered darkly, to Paulie's comment.

He watched the two girls hug and make plans for lunch. Casey was having lunch with this freak? What was wrong with her?

Derek entered his bedroom and slammed the door.

o-o-o-oo-o-o-o—oo-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-oo-oo-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o

"Having lunch in the library is awesome," Paulie commented, chewing a piece of her apple thoughtfully, "Too bad we got a detention for it."

Casey frowned, twirling one strand of hair around her index finger. "I'm so grounded now."

They were both sitting outside on the concrete, enjoying the breeze and silence.

Paulie shrugged. "Just tell them you stayed late tutoring me." She was wearing a black polo today, with a white tanktop and gray jeans.

"After our chat about books, I don't think my parents will buy that."

"I can come with you." Paulie offered, "and lie for you." Casey bit her lip, still twirling a strand of her hair. Lie?

But she really wanted to go to that party this weekend, too…

"Okay…" she sighed, and Paulie bumped her with her shoulder. "Don't worry, I'll make it good."

"Want to stay for dinner again?" Casey offered. Paulie pictured Derek's darkening face and smirked.

"I'd love to. Somehow I doubt Derek will love it, though."

"And that's what makes it so much sweeter." Casey supplied wickedly.

o-o-o-oo-o-o-o—oo-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-oo-oo-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o

"Um," Emily began, facing Casey timidly, "Casey, everyone's saying they saw you at lunch with the new girl."

Casey shrugged, pulling off her undershirt and heading to one of the showers, "So? She's nice."

"Casey," Emily whispered, "She's a player."

Casey snorted. "Paulie? A player? Please. She barely looked at Derek all night last night."

"Wait, you had her for dinner? Well, anyway, who do you think she was looking at, Casey?" Emily sighed.

A few moments later Casey grasped the hint. Her nose wrinkled with annoyance. "She's not going to hit on every female on the planet just 'cause she's gay."

"Whatever, Casey. Don't say I didn't warn you." Emily said, shrugging and walking away.

o-o-o-oo-o-o-o—oo-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-oo-oo-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o

Casey was still in a bad mood when Paulie's face greeted her at the Prince after school. Casey propped herself up on the hood, and Paulie did the same.

"Bad day?" Paulie asked, swinging her feet.

"You were right. Most people our age are stupid." Casey grunted.

"Ah. The player rumor, right?"

Casey turned to her, wide-eyed. Paulie shrugged. "So I made out with a few girls at a party. Big deal."

Casey turned away, not wanting the girl to see the judgment in her eyes. "No girlfriend?" Casey asked.

"Nope. Haven't found the right one yet."

"What's the right one like?"

Paulie dragged her eyes up Casey's body and sighed. "I don't know yet."

"You'll find her eventually," Casey consoled.

"I think I already have." Paulie murmured quietly, but Casey didn't hear.

"You," Derek said, with a twisted sneer, carrying his hockey stuff over one arm.

"Derek," Casey warned, and the two girls hopped off the hood, getting into the backseat of the car.

Derek glared at the unwanted visitor—and the golden eyes glared right back.

o-o-o-oo-o-o-o—oo-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-oo-oo-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o

"Are you really a player?" Casey asked quietly, when the two of them were alone in her room. They were lying on the floor, side-by-side, staring at the ceiling and letting the fan blow on them.

"Depends on your definition. I've dated a few girls, but it's never been serious."

"That's it?" Asked Casey.

"Okay, and I had a few friends-with-benefits. What's with the interrogation?"

Casey shrugged. "Sorry…"

"Don't feel bad," Paulie murmured, "it's okay if you're curious."

Somehow Casey felt like Paulie wanted her to be a bit more curious...

Casey noted the black long-sleeved polo shirt. "Taking that off might make you more comfortable." Casey pointed out.

"I'm more comfortable with it on," said Paulie, and she left it at that.

Nora knocked on the doorframe, holding a plate of cookies. "Figured you two would want some before the boys ate them all," she said.

"Yeah," Paulie smiled, "Thanks."

After Nora left, Casey asked no more questions and Paulie offered no more information. Her leaving was less dramatic as the night before, but Derek still tossed her a glare as she went through the door.

"Can you be any ruder?" hissed Casey, as she stomped up the stairs.

o-o-o-oo-o-o-o—oo-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-oo-oo-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o

"Eating outside isn't so bad," Casey said.

"Sure, if you like the smell of exhaust." Mumbled Paulie. She had…recoiled into herself since last night, and getting a word out of her was hard.

The lunch bell rang, and Paulie didn't get up with her. "Are you coming? I thought you had English next," Casey said.

"I do." Paulie tossed back lazily.

"Well…" Casey trailed off. "Don't be late, 'kay? I gotta go. See you."

"See you."

o-o-o-oo-o-o-o—oo-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-oo-oo-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o

Paulie didn't meet her after school. Derek looked pleased, and whistled the whole way home.

After dinner, Casey barged into Derek's room. "What's Paulie's number?"

Derek snorted, not taking his eyes off his computer screen for a moment, "Like I'd give it to you. What, you want to call your little girlfriend and end up tying the line for hours?"

"She's not my girlfriend. And just give me the damn number!"

"Sorry, Princess. You don't always get what you want."

Casey scoffed bitterly. "And you always do."

"Now you're getting it!" Derek said cheerfully, as she stormed out of his room.

o-o-o-oo-o-o-o—oo-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-oo-oo-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o

Paulie didn't come back for four days; it was a Monday when she showed up again, and Casey's heart skipped a beat in relief as her familiar black hair came into view.

"Gotta go, Em, bye." Casey murmured to her friend, and hurried up to catch Paulie.

"Hey," Casey said breathlessly, leaning against the lockers as Paulie fiddled with hers.

Paulie didn't say anything.

"Pauls?" Casey asked slowly, "Are you sick or something?"

Paulie cleared her throat. "No," she grabbed some books, "But I am jacked up on painkillers." The girl turned to look at her, and Casey stifled a gasp.

There was a large stitched-up wound on her forehead and a black eye. "Jesus, Paulie. What happened?"

She shrugged and smiled sardonically. "Bar fight. They were kind enough to avoid my lips," she fiddled with one of her piercings, "otherwise one of these babies would've had to be taken out. They did chip one of my teeth, though!"

"Cut the crap, Paulie. What the hell happened?"

"Football team didn't like how I was flirting with some of their girls, that's all. They didn't hit me hard or anything; I mean, if they had they could have killed me, so…"

"They didn't hit you hard? Paulie, you have a black eye!"

"Case," Paulie whined, "You're ruining my painkiller high, okay? Now, I'm not going to be at school again for the next few days. Don't say anything, okay? Promise?"

Casey sighed, and Paulie ruffled her hair. "It'll be okay, Case. I promise."

"Why are you reassuring me when you're the one who got brutally maimed?!"

Paulie snorted. "I forgot how much I missed your exaggerations." She grabbed a pen and took Casey's hand, writing down a few numbers.

"Call me, 'kay?"

"Okay," Casey sighed.

Paulie pressed her lips against her cheek, but before Casey could even react, she was walking down the hall (somewhat dazedly).

o-o-o-oo-o-o-o—oo-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-oo-oo-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o

The phone rang at three, and Paulie ran to pick it up. Her mother gazed at her curiously, and upon her daughter's chirpy greeting ("Casey!") she sighed and returned to her soaps.

Paulie ran up the stairs to her bed, plopping down with a delusion grin on her face. She'd chalk it up to the meds if anyone asked, but Paulie knew the real reason.

"So, how are you?" Casey's tone was light. Careful.

"Better. What about you?"

"Can't complain."

The rest of the phone call was awkward (mostly on Casey's part) and ended after ten minutes. Paulie sighed, then groaned into her pillow.

o-o-o-oo-o-o-o—oo-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-oo-oo-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o

"Hey," Paulie said, on Friday, startling Casey from her book at lunch. "Shouldn't you be with Emily or something?"

Casey wrinkled her nose. "And watch her trade goo-goo eyes with Sheldon? No thanks. Aren't you supposed to be at home?"

Paulie shrugged. "I snuck out." She sat down next to Casey, pushing aside the rolled up paper bag.

Casey dog-eared her page and set the book down, hugging herself.

"So. You haven't called me." Paulie began, with her brow raised. Casey looked at her face; the eye looked less bruised and the cut wasn't as swollen.

"Yeah…" Casey trailed off, not sure what to say; she couldn't think of a good excuse.

"The kiss, right?" Paulie asked bluntly.

"Yeah, well…" Casey grew silent.

Paulie just grabbed a stick and dragged it across the concrete in front of her, distracting herself from the girl next to her.

"Do you…like me? Like that?" Casey finally asked tentatively.

Paulie released a breath. "Depends. You want the truth or a lie?"

"The truth."

"Okay," Paulie said, tossing the stick down and looking her straight in the eyes, "Yeah, yeah, I do like you like that. I think you're fucking gorgeous and brilliant and special."

"Oh, Paulie…" Casey whispered.

Paulie stood up, brushing off nonexistent remnants of the stick off her shirt. "I gotta go. My mom's going to wonder where I am eventually."

"Paulie…" Casey said.

"You're beginning to sound like a broken record, Case." Paulie muttered.

She stuck her hands in her pockets and strolled away.

o-o-o-oo-o-o-o—oo-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-oo-oo-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o

"You're looking worse than usual," Derek said, plopping down next to her on the couch.

Casey sighed. "What would you do if a person liked you and you didn't share the same feelings…and that person told you he liked you?"

"If it was a guy, I'd tell him I didn't swing that way and bolt the hell out of there. If it was a girl, and she was reasonably hot, I'd lie and make out with her."

"You're no help," Casey said disgustedly.

Derek smirked. "Let me guess—Paulie."

Casey just glared at the carpet.

"Sometimes you should just ignore the freaks, Casey."

"Because she's gay, she's a freak?" Casey spat out.

"No, because she insists on going after every straight girl, she's a freak."

"Well, maybe I'm not straight, Derek! Did you ever think of that?! Maybe I like Paulie too!"

Derek looked shocked, but recovered and smirked again. "No, you don't."

Casey ignored him and murmured to herself, "Maybe I like her too."

o-o-o-oo-o-o-o—oo-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-oo-oo-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o

Paulie avoided her for a week. On Friday, one week after Paulie had blurted out her feelings to Casey, she found the darker-haired girl hiding in a corner in the library.

"You can't hide for the rest of the year, you know." Casey said softly, sitting next to her.

"Yes, I can." Paulie said stubbornly. There were only fading bruises around her eye and the stitches had been removed.

"Paulie, can you come to my house after school? Please?"

"Why?" she asked quietly.

"Because I miss you, you idiot."

Paulie shrugged, and kept her eyes downcast.

"Please?"

Paulie sighed. "I can't be alone with you, you know…"

"Is that a yes?"

Paulie groaned. "It's a yes."

Casey wanted to hug her, but refrained. Instead, she just smiled and said, "Good."

o-o-o-oo-o-o-o—oo-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-oo-oo-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o

"Long time no see," Nora said cheerfully, when Paulie came through the door. She dropped her messenger bag and rubbed her neck.

"Eh, yeah. Casey said she'd help me with homework."

"Well, I don't want to bother you! Go on up, girls. I'll let you know when dinner is ready."

Paulie sat on Casey's bed awkwardly, pulling books out of her bag and the worksheets she needed to finish. She spread all of her stuff out on the floor. The farther Casey was, the better.

Casey kept quiet, but it didn't stop Paulie from glancing at her and listening to her breaths.

Why had she said yes?

"The freak's here again?" muttered Derek, rolling his eyes, "Casey doesn't like you! Go away!"

"She doesn't like you either, so I don't see what you're so high-and-mighty about."

"I'm her stepbrother. She's required to like me a little."

"No she isn't." Paulie argued.

"Door's that way," Derek pointed down the stairs.

A pink blur intercepted both of them, and Derek was shoved into the hallway, door slammed into his face.

He blinked at her ballet poster for a moment, dazed.

Had he…lost?

o-o-o-oo-o-o-o—oo-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-oo-oo-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o

"I'm sorry," Casey babbled, chest heaving, "I told you he can be an asshole."

"You told him?" Paulie whispered.

"No, no! He just figured it out..."

She was close, too close, and Paulie could see the thin outline of her bra, the amazing legs hidden beneath the tight jeans, the soft skin at the center of her collarbone…

Slipping two slender hands against either side of the dancer's face, she pulled her close. "I told you being alone was a bad idea."

And their lips met.

At first, she was going to pull away. But Paulie held her close, and she found herself doing the opposite of pulling.

It should be illegal for someone to be able to kiss this well, thought Casey, it doesn't help when you're supposedly straight and trying to figure out—

"I'm not gay," Casey murmured softly, eyes wide, as they pulled away.

"You're not gay." Paulie echoed, pushing the books off the bed with one sweep of her arm.

Paulie came close again and Casey stopped her. "Wait," she said.

"Think of it as…" Paulie trailed off, a slow smirk growing on her face, "experimenting."

Casey looked unsure.

"It's like renting a car," Paulie explained; she walked over the books to the doorknob, where she turned the lock.

"Just try me out." Paulie whispered in her ear, running a finger down her neck.

And Casey turned around, looking at her for a moment.

She let Paulie kiss her.

Pressing her to the bed, she kissed a trail down her neck, then put her fingers underneath the hem, looking Casey in the eyes.

She didn't say no.

When the final article of clothing—a pair of astonishly sexy lace underwear—came off, she didn't say no.

When she put her fingers between her soft, wet folds, and pressed her mouth against hers to stifle the cries, she didn't protest.

Only when she had climaxed did Casey finally say something, sticky with sweat.

"How the hell did rental cars become so damn amazing?"

Paulie laughed. "You're such a nerd."

Casey slipped on her underwear and bra, then deemed her other clothes too far out of reach.

Casey let Paulie hold her—it was the thing to do after an amazing orgasm, to cuddle—and she didn't say anything.

"How do you feel?" Paulie murmured.

"A little worried," Casey admitted.

"Why?" Paulie asked, petting her hair gently.

"You don't do commitment."

Paulie's stomach flipped. "Babe," she whispered, kissing her fingers, "I'd do commitment for you."

"But what if…what if we go out and I'm…too straight?" Casey fretted.

"We'll take it as slow as you want." Paulie whispered.

"I don't know if…I like you like that." Casey finally admitted.

"So, let's find out."

"It's not that easy."

"Sure it is. On the plus side…" Paulie grinned devilishly, "slumber parties would be a-ok."

Casey sighed. "I don't want to hurt you."

"You can't hurt me. The only way you can hurt me is if you don't try." She kissed her, hard, and ran her fingers up alongside her stomach. "You have the softest skin, you know that?"

To prove she was trying, Casey gave her a kiss.

o-o-o-oo-o-o-o—oo-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-oo-oo-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o

Paulie skipped out of the room, a smile on her face (she had to focus on not making it the I just got the girl of my dreams smile, and that was very, very hard).

Derek bumped into her. "Sorry," Derek growled.

Paulie simply patted his head, pinching his cheek, and giggling.

As the dark-haired girl bounded down the stairs, Derek eyed Casey. She looked unravished, but Casey could have easily fixed herself up.

"She just giggled." Derek pointed out, disbelief etched across his features.

"I know," Casey said cryptically, and walked down the stairs.

"…still have lots of homework to do, and that's why I have to stay the night," Paulie was saying very seriously on the phone. She smirked at Casey and then nodded thoughtfully at whatever the person on the other end was saying.

"You two were locked up there for a while. Are you hungry?" Casey ducked beneath her long hair, trying to hide the blush seeping into her cheeks and just nodded yes.

"Famished," Paulie said perkily, skipping to Casey's side.

Case was drinking from a water bottle as her mother called from the kitchen, "We had fish tacos."

She spat out her water, causing the contents to spray against the dinner table.

Paulie sank to her knees and laughed hysterically.

Derek, listening to the boisterous conversation from upstairs, banged his head against the wall furiously.