Unplanned Dasey drabble. 500ish words. Review, review, lovely readers. And no, I'm not forgetting my other story, just experimenting!

Hello Trouble!

Casey's concentrating on what Mr Torrance is saying about inorganic chemicals. But she can still feel Derek's eyes on her.

She's pretending to eat her lunch. He's eating his lunch. Less than ten feet away, in a diagonal line, he's sitting opposite Sam and watching her. All she has to do it swivel to her left and look and she'll meet his eyes. But she doesn't.

She's standing at her locker, talking to Emily about this romantic film she wants to see. And she knows he's a few feet away, talking to someone about something but looking at her. She doesn't turn.

Gym class was tough. She's exhausted now, from getting up too early to study, and staying awake too late thinking about him. She's about to pull her sweatshirt over her head. Her arms are entangled; her face is hidden in its soft folds. And she hears his voice, silky smooth, mirthful, caressing.

'Want a lift home?'

Maybe he means someone else. Sally, Kendra, Sarah, Ann. Maybe he's looking at someone else. Georgia, Stephanie, Alice, Gina. Maybe he didn't mean it. Maybe she mistook the voice and it isn't him.

How long can she stand like this in this near-empty corridor, with her arms over her head, half in and half out of a piece of clothing? Maybe he'll have walked away by the time she emerges from its folds.

Warm hands grasp her shoulders, swing her round. Her sweatshirt is off and on the floor beside her, next to her bag and her pile of books and her dance cds.

'You were expecting someone else, Space Case?' He questions, distressed, because her eyes have filled with frightening tears.

'No.' Casey's concentrating on her breathing, on the buttons of his shirt, on the lengthening shadows in the corridor, on her accelerating heartbeat, on her unshed tears, on the held back better left unsaid words she's always saying to him inside her head.

'You knew it was me? Or you don't want a lift?' He's not joking now, his hands still on her shoulders, his brown eyes darker than usual, poised for flight if she snubs him.


'Casey, for God's sake, look at me. It's just a lift! What have I done recently to make you hate me?'

She looks up at Derek and into his eyes, through strands of his gorgeous messy brown hair. Now she can't look away. Nothing else exists. And if he looks away then she thinks she's going to wither like a wretched sunflower. Now he knows. Oh yes! Now that she's actually looking, he can read her feelings like a book.

'Hello Trouble', Derek whispers, as he pulls her closer and brushes his soft lips against her waiting mouth. Sunlight kissing an adoring flower.