Hey everyone! Here is a sequel of sorts to Hockey Girls. It's basically key scenes from Derek's POV.
This fic has a little more language than Hockey Girls did, but I feel like Derek is that kind of guy, especially when it's his own thoughts.
Disclaimer: I don't own Life with Derek.
Chapter 1: First Day of Classes
You can save it, you know. I can already tell you're on Sam's side. He wants me to tell Casey how I feel about her.
But I'm not listening to him. Or you.
Try to see it from my point of view. Here's this completely amazing girl who's been making my life insane for the last three years, and I have to live with her. Not only that, we're family.
Can you see how fucked up it all is? I hated her for a good month after the McDonalds moved in. But slowly, somehow, I realized how ridiculously perfect for me she is. It's like that lame-ass Tom Cruise movie. She "completes" me.
Kill me. Kill me now.
I don't want to feel this way. It's like a dull throbbing ache in the back of my head that won't go away no matter how many remedies I've tried. Believe me, I've tried my best to forget about her. I even got a few serious crushes. I really, really liked Sally. A lot. But would I really have run off to Vancouver to be with her? Probably not.
Casey, on the other hand? She could have gotten into the University of Siberia and I'd have been the first one in the admissions line.
I don't know when it happened, or how, but I fell in l…l…love with Casey McDonald. And my life has been one ridiculous predicament after another ever since.
You see, I do really dumb things sometimes. It's like, I don't really know how it is to be successful, and well-mannered, and behave like, um, Casey. So I don't bother to try. Why should I? I've gotten by pretty darn well following the laws of Derocrates.
Okay, so I almost failed out of high school and barely got into university. But here I am, at insanely prestigious Queen's, and actually enjoying classes.
And hockey's a blast. It's amazing to play on a team with such great players, and even though it's exhausting, I love it.
You see, I am capable of being passionate about other things besides television. And food. (And Casey. Yeah, I said it.)
Even though Casey's constantly on my mind, I always liked to go out and enjoy myself with other girls. Why shouldn't I? Casey would never give me the time of day as a boyfriend, and she would never do half the stuff on the first date that some of my dates would. So what's the harm in having a little fun?
That's why it's so weird that I don't really miss my "skirt-chasing cad" lifestyle here at Queen's. It was all too easy to tell the guys that Casey is my long-term girlfriend, and as awkward as it is between the two of us now, I kind of like it. I get to "try her on," so to speak, and it's as great as I thought it would be.
But not. Because it's so fucking uncomfortable. Casey seems to think I'm playing this big prank on her, and she's determined to beat me at my own game. She doesn't understand that it's not a game. It's my own sick, pathetic attempt to have her as my girlfriend, because she'd never have me for real. And I can't say a word to her about it, because what the hell could I say without coming off as a creepy (incestuous) stalker. So I let her think it's a prank. So what?
Though to be fair, I never would have told people she was my girlfriend if the guys hadn't made the wrong assumption. That was pure dumb luck. And it may have been a bonehead move to let them think we're together, but I'm glad I did.
Sam wonders why I'm so sure Casey would never go for me. It's not that I think she's so out of my league (which she is), it's just that there's too much history between us now. I've been a jerk to her too many times. She likes her boys compliant and dim-witted. (Don't even get me started on that train wreck of a relationship she had with Truman. I didn't need to do much sabotaging in that department. He showed his true colors soon enough.) Oh, and I'm not knocking Sam. That was the old Casey, the girl who dated him. Being with Max changed her. She became concerned with popularity, and status, and got all giggly and stupid. It was repulsive to witness. It's like, she isn't happy unless she's with a guy who can validate her worthiness as a girlfriend. Or something.
Do I understand any of this? Absolutely not. But I do understand Casey. I know her better than she knows herself. And she may have made some bad relationship choices, but she will never lower herself to dating a "cretin" like me. It just wouldn't work. We'd kill each other. Sam says we deserve each other. That Casey needs someone to call her on her bullshit, and so do I. He may be right, but we kind of do that anyway, don't we?
I go back and forth. Some days I feel like I'd wait forever for her, if only she'd give me some sign she's interested. Others, I want to scoop my brain out of my skull with a spoon just to erase all my thoughts of her.
Being in love blows.
Brooke's a film studies major too. I found this out when she showed up to Film, Culture, and Communication on the first day and sat right next to me.
"Hey Venturi," she said with a bright smile, shiny red hair bouncing all over the place. Two days ago, I would have turned on the charm. She's definitely my type. But two days ago, I wasn't dating Casey.
I nodded vaguely in her direction and she misinterpreted it as lack of recognition.
"I'm Brooke, one of the Hockey Girls, remember?" She put a hand on my arm, and I tried not to grimace. She's the kind of girl who plays my game. She knows how the rules work. So I couldn't really ignore her.
"Right, right. Sorry."
She shrugged. "S'okay. You must be meeting so many new people, huh?"
"Yeah." I didn't offer any more information, but that didn't stop Brooke from launching into a monologue about how good the hockey team was this year.
This. Sucks. I'm at a university with thousands of hot girls, and I can't even have a casual hookup. And it sucks even more that I don't really even want to. Stupid fucking Casey.
I hate Casey for doing this to me. Why the hell didn't she laugh in the HGs' faces when they thought we were together?
Except, as you know, I absolutely don't hate Casey. I want Casey to be with me. And now I'm a gushy little girl. Ugh.
Don't judge me. Unless you happen to have an incredibly hot, and kind, and funny, and aggravating stepsister living across the hall from you. Then you can judge all you want.
Back to Brooke. She finished talking about hockey. I had been nodding in all the right places.
"So, you want to grab lunch after this class?"
Something occurred to me. "Hey, don't you have a boyfriend? You're with Mark, right?"
Brooke fluttered her eyelashes. (Yeah, she definitely did, I swear I didn't make it up.) "I am. But what's a little lunch between friends?" There was her hand on my arm again. This girl would have been Ms. Friday Night back at Thompson.
I removed her hand from my arm and said with confidence, "Brooke, come on. You're gorgeous, don't get me wrong. But I'm completely in love with Casey."
That was the first time I'd said it out loud. (Sam knew without me actually having to say the words.) It felt…so good. I got all warm and fuzzy. I know, I know. Maybe deep down, I really am a sap. But then I remembered that Casey definitely didn't love me, and my stomach did a somersault. I think that may have been a twinge of guilt. I'm not sure. I've never really felt guilt before. Is it supposed to hurt?
Brooke stared at me. "Okay," she finally said. "But if you ever want to have a little fun…" She winked.
Just so I could stop feeling like the world's biggest wimp, I winked back. "I'll keep that in mind." I'll never take her up on her offer, of course. I do have some morals. Even if she was willing to cheat on Mark, I wouldn't do that to a teammate.
Besides, he's huge. He'd kill me with one punch.