Are You Perspiring From the Irony?

I was sitting in my room, just doing my homework, minding my own business and trying to concentrate on the Algebra homework in front of me instead of on the chicken cordon bleu my dad was cooking downstairs when Casey barged into my room. Not knocking or anything.

"Because of you, my only friend is mad at me!"

"How is it my fault?" I asked, bored. I put my books to the side, grateful for the distraction.

"If you hadn't kissed me then none of this would be happening!"

"Keep it down," I told her, "And I wouldn't have even been in your room if you hadn't taken the controller."

"Well I wouldn't have had to take it if you would study when you were supposed too."

I didn't answer. You can't argue with logic like that.

"You need to go over there and tell her what really happened: that you kissed me and not the other way around."

"No."

Casey froze, looking close to tears. I almost took a step back but I couldn't let her see my discomfort. I just gave her a pitying look. "Sorry Case, but do you know how that would make me look?" Yes, I do like Casey. But I can't just drop everything for her. Especially when I don't even know if she likes me back.

Her look turned from sad disbelief to anger in a second.

"I hate you!" And with that she stomped out of my room, slamming the door behind her.

Her words stung. She had said it before, but it was never said with that much venom in her voice. For once it actually did seem like she hated me and I felt hurt by it. Maybe I had really screwed up this time.

Oooooooooooooooo

Casey didn't talk to me at all the next day. English class was very awkward. I kept glancing at Casey, who wouldn't look at me. Then when I saw Sam or Emily watching me watch Casey I would quickly look away. I don't think Casey looked up from her paper at all.

We were supposed to be writing a short story. Ten pages long, typed. Ten pages typed doesn't seem much like a short story to me, but whatever. We had the day to write the rough draft, or at least part of it. Mr. Gordon said he didn't want us rushing it, so he gave us two seeks to write the story. Casey was on her second page, hand flying over the paper. I looked down at my own notebook. I hadn't written anything yet. There weren't any story lines coming to mind.

Emily was writing hers, occasionally tapping her pencil on her chin before writing again. Sam had half a page written, never pausing but writing kind of slowly.

I looked back at my paper again. We could write about anything.

Finally a story came to me and I started writing.

Ten minutes before class ended Mr. Gordon told us to switch with someone so they could make corrections on what we have so far. Emily looked at me and offered me her paper. I handed my notebook over.

Emily's story was about a girl whose boyfriend was on the hockey team and the girl got really into the sport. Emily was actually a really good writer and the story seemed interesting. There were minimal corrections needed—that I found—in her story. When I got mine back, the page wasn't covered in purple ink, but had several mistakes on it. Same was the last one still reading. Casey's story must have been at least halfway done.

When that class was finally over, I realized that it was still morning. That meant six more classes to go before I could go home.

The day dragged on forever, but gave me a lot of time to think.

There had been a few too many times that would suggest that I liked Casey. But when I thought about it, there were quiet a few times when it seemed like Casey liked me too. When she barged into my room right as I was changing, for example. Out of all that time I was going to be in my room and she came in when I was right in the middle of changing my shirt. And when I kissed her, she didn't pull away at first. And why had she fallen on me like that? That couldn't have been a coincidence either, right? A completely random fall gave me the perfect opportunity to kiss her. And I grabbed the opportunity quickly. As they said in Signs, there are no coincidences.

Finally, at the end of the day, I raced home, only to be disappointed that everyone had gotten home. I was hoping to talk to Casey without worrying about everyone else being around. No such luck. And Casey didn't even get home till about an hour after school ended. The second I heard her bedroom door close and her music start, I left my spot at my computer and went to talk to Casey.

"Get out," she said simply when she saw it was me. I know a lot of people would have taken that as the first hint that their theory was incorrect, but I'm not a lot of people.

I shook my head, "No."

She looked at me angrily and I closed the door.

"I don't think you really hate me. I think you really do like me but since I'm your step-brother you won't admit it."

"Why would you think that?" she asked, "There has been nothing to suggest that I like you at all."

"Because that's how it's supposed to work. When one person starts to like someone, then the other person likes them back at the same time."

Casey looked at me almost pityingly. "This isn't a fairy tale Derek."

I rolled my eyes. "Thanks, I had no idea." I took a few steps toward her so if I wanted to I could touch her. She started to take a step back but hit her desk. "I want you to look me in the eye and tell me you have no feelings for me."

She looked straight into my eyes and said without hesitation, "I don't have feelings for you."

At first her words felt like a knife until I realized how that blinking thing almost never works. I studied her face for a minute before deciding that I didn't believe her. There was just something about her that made me think she was lying.

So I kissed her. I grabbed her arms and pressed my lips hard to hers. I could feel her trying to back up, but the desk was still behind her. When she realized that I wasn't going to let her go she pushed on my chest and I took a step or two back.

"Why don't you get it?" Casey screamed at me, "I don't like you! I hate you!" And with that she pushed me. I tried to take a step back, but tripped over my feet and fell to the ground. Casey just stared at me with hate in her eyes and I stood up quickly. "Get out," she hissed at me. I opened my mouth, but decided I didn't want to say anything to her, so I slammed her door on the way out.

00CASEY00

I winced at the loud bang. The look Derek had given me before he left my room stunned me. It was a mixture of hurt and hate. It made me feel terrible about what I had said and I wanted to go apologize. But I knew I couldn't because what I said was the truth. Well, sort of. I didn't have feelings for him, but I didn't hate him either. I was just extremely upset at him. Unlike Derek I only had one good friend. And because of Derek she wasn't talking to me. And then he tries to tell me how I feel? I don't think so. And I know he usually gets what he wants, but this is real life, not some TV show. Things don't always work out for the main character. I'm not saying that Derek is the main character of this story I'm just trying to make a point.

God, why are you trying to twist my words so much?

Anyway, after Derek left I covered my mouth with my hand and slowly sat down on my chair. That was the second kiss I had with my step-brother. That can't be normal. It isn't normal, is it? Do you see step-siblings even on TV or movies that date?

…Don't answer that.

Something I thought never would had happen had happened. I was wishing things were back to normal. With Derek pulling pranks on me all the time and we would fight. That was preferable to Derek trying to tell me I liked him.

Maybe he just hasn't been going out with anybody lately. He's been bored and since I'm currently the girl his age he sees the most he thinks he likes me. But he doesn't. He just needs to date someone else. This will all blow over soon.

000000

I didn't see Emily in the cafeteria. I looked around, hoping to see someone I knew that I could sit with. The only person was Derek, and there was no way I was going to sit with him.

So I walked up to a table that was for the most part, empty. There was only one girl sitting there and when I got closer I instantly recognized her from my math class. She was a really smart girl. Her name was Miranda Thompson. She had blonde hair that was always up in a pony tail, tied back with a rubber band. She wore oval glasses and no make-up. I never saw her hanging out with anybody, but she always had a book with her.

"Can I sit with you?" I asked politely.

She looked up and I could see the shock on her face. "Uh… sure," she said. I smiled at her and sat down. She just stared at me for a few moments before asking, "Aren't you Derek Venturi's stepbrother?"

I tried not to grimace. "Yeah, I am."

She glanced behind me before quickly looking down at her food. I turned to see Derek staring at me from across the room. When our eyes met he smirked at me and turned to Sam. I rolled my eyes and turned to see Miranda staring at Derek the same way Emily stares at Derek.

At the thought of Emily I looked around for her again. I saw her sitting by the window with some friends. She looked over at me and frowned. That was just fine. I didn't need her. And I was going to prove that to Emily.

"Miranda would you like to come over after school today? We could do our homework."

She looked slightly excited about that. "Sure, I would love too. Is Derek going to be there?"

"Of course, he lives there."

I could see her trying to force herself not to smile.

000000

I hung my coat on the coat tree and Miranda was doing the same when Derek came barreling into the house. He bumped into Miranda—nearly knocking her down—and ran straight into me. I was thrown back against the wall with him inches away from me. I shoved him. "Watch where you're going," I snapped.

"I was," he answered with a smirk. I rolled my eyes as he ran up the stairs.

"Sorry about him," I said to Miranda, leading her upstairs.

"It's alright," she said instantly.

"You like Derek, don't you?" I asked when we were both my room.

Miranda turned red and looked down at her shoes. "Yeah," she admitted quietly.

"Don't stare at your shoes, Derek hates that," I said, suddenly getting an idea. She instantly looked up at me, a little confused. "And… do you mind if I play with your hair a little bit?"

She shook her head. "Not at all, but why."

I shrugged. "I was just thinking that maybe I could help you get Derek's attention." She smiled gratefully.

"Thank you."

"No, no, thank you," I said. Her brows furrowed, but I just said, "Sit here," and patted the seat in front of my vanity. She sat facing the mirror. I pulled at the rubber band. It got caught a couple times and I saw her wince in the mirror but she didn't make a sound. Finally her hair came loose, falling around her shoulders. I brushed it out for her, getting out the few knots. The only flaw in her hair was the crease where the elastic had been holding it up.

"I love your hair," Casey said as she plugged the curling iron into the wall.

000000

I knocked on Derek's door. He answered it, looking frustrated until he saw me. Then he seemed to perk up a bit. Ugh.

"Derek," I said, "I don't think you've met Miranda, have you?"

He looked slightly confused. "What?"

"She's in my math class," I explained, stepping back so he could see her. I had curled her hair slightly and put a thin layer of make-up on her. She looked really good. The little bit of green eye liner made her eyes stick out even though she still had to wear her glasses and the thin layer of foundation hid any blemishes, making her skin look damn close to perfect.

Miranda looked down at her feet for a second before looking up again and straight at Derek.

"Hey," he said, leaning up against the doorframe and giving Miranda one of his 'Derek' smirks. My plan was working out perfectly. There was just one flaw.

I could practically feel my eyes turning green.

00A/n00

Yes, I know it's been for ever since my last update. I just couldn't seem to write this chapter. I swear I started it and then started over about ten thousand times. I almost just abandoned it. But I thought about it after a while and decided that I still wanted to write this story.

Uh… Happy Late New Year.