《A Deal with the Daredevil (Completed) (Editing)》You're on the 'Slut of the Day' webpage
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[Copyright © 2013 The Daredevil]
All rights reserved.
Dedication @tatesrose for editing.
***
Casey's POV
My palms were sweating and my heart was thudding in my chest. My entire body stiff as a board. I felt like someone had knocked the breath out of me, making it difficult to breathe. I was having a panic attack and I didn't have my trusty paper bag with me.
I started feeling dizzy and my body became weightless. My breathing was beginning to come in ragged puffs, making me feel like I was drowning. My eyes watered as the feeling of helplessness settled in and my chest rose and fell with short, heavy breaths.
"Casey," I heard a voice in the distance. "Listen to me, sweetheart. I need you to count to ten with me, okay?"
I closed my eyes tightly.
"Can you do that, Casey?" the person asked. "Can you count to ten with me?"
I tried to nod.
"Okay, one, two..." he slowly started and I tried to open my mouth to speak, but nothing came out. "Concentrate on breathing, okay?"
I nodded and tried to slow down my pounding heart by breathing in a lungful of air. "One, two..."
"It's not the place that's scary, Casey, it's the thought. Focus on your breathing, block everything else," the voice said and I decided to focus on it. It was calm and secure. "That's it, sweetheart, breathe."
My breathing slowed down and I felt like I was finally capable of speaking as I slowly started to regain control of my body.
"You okay?" I heard Ryder ask next to me.
I turned to him and nodded. "How did you know what to do?'
He looked away. "Um, my uh, my mom had panic attacks all the time, eventually I learned to help her out of them."
"Oh," I mumbled, staring down at my nails. The embarrasment settling in like a deadly disease.
"Why does this place freak you out so much, Casey?" he asked curiously. I knew he was just being curious and wasn't trying to uncover all of my secrets, but his question triggered my natural defense and the walls came up.
"I don't want to talk about it," I said, looking out the window, dismissing the topic.
"Okay," he muttered as he started the car and backed out the parking space. I stared out the window at the passing stores and businesses. Resting my head on the window, I closed my eyes, reminding myself to breathe steadily.
I hated having panic attacks; especially in front of people. I'd been to a therapist to get treatment for it after Nissa, Bubba and Nadia had begged me to. It was embarrassing, but I'd done it for them. Going to therapy had helped for the first few days, but after a while going to see a therapist, who kept insisting that I talk to a shrink about my deeper issues that she believed caused my panic attacks, I stopped going to see her.
I peeled my eyes open when I felt the car slow down, then come to a complete stop in front of an unrecognizable building. Sitting up in my seat, I looked around, confused, my eyebrows lowering. We weren't at my house.
"Ryder, where are we?" I asked, looking around at the unfamiliar buildings.
"We're at Megan's dance studio," he informed as he turned towards me, resting an arm on the steering wheel and the other on the back of my seat. My eyes widened.
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"Why?" I asked slowly.
"You are going to enroll yourself," he answered matter-of-fact and I raised an eyebrow at his forwardness.
"No."
"Casey, come on, why the hell are you being so stubborn about this? I get you didn't want to have classes at your last dance studio, but why not this one?" he asked and I turned to glare at him.
"I just don't want to, Ryder, why is that so difficult to grasp?" I replied through gritted teeth.
"It's just dancing, be spontaneous and get your scrawny ass in there, you did it once, you can do it again," he answered and I turned to him.
"Take me home," I simply replied.
"No, you have real talent and I am not about to let you walk away from that," he answered forcefully and I turned to him in stunned silence. "You want to learn how to be spontaneous, Casey? Here's you first lesson—you have to get over your fears," he added.
"Just take me home! Why can't you get it through your thick skull that I don't want to do this?" I shouted, my temper getting the best of me. I needed him to understand that I couldn't do this. I knew it would be difficult to understand not knowing the reasons behind my decision, but I wasn't about to share my personal life with a guy I barely knew. I just wanted him to understand, no questions asked.
"Hey, I can hear you quite fine without you shouting," he replied, his tone turning cold. "I'm just trying to hold up my end of the deal. I found out you went to dance lessons once, and I thought you might like to get back to that."
I turned towards him angrily, gritting my teeth. "Who the hell gave you the right to go snooping around my business?"
"I was not snooping, I was gathering information," he answered. "And this is why I never hang around you fucking self-righteous bitches."
"The fuck did you just call me?" I asked, indignantly.
"You heard me, you women are all drama and you make a big fucking deal about nothing," he answered with a scowl on his face.
"Take me home," I demanded.
"No, thanks, you're not my type," he answered and I growled in frustration.
"Ryder, take me to my house, now."
"Gladly," he answered coldly, turning the car on, he pulled out the parking lot and sped off to my house.
I looked out the window, a pout grazing my face and my brow furrowed. Who the hell did he think he was? I was not a self-righteous bitch. He was just an asshole, simple as that.
I didn't even know why I'd made a deal with Ryder. I hated him and he didn't even know I existed before yesterday. We were like fire and ice; complete opposites. There was no way we could work together.
It had been foolish of me to think otherwise. I would get Drake back on my own. I could be spontaneous. I could teach my own self. For fucks sake, if I could figure out quantum mechanics, I could figure out how to win a boy back.
The car came to a screeching halt in front of our iron gates and I pressed the open button in the car. When the gates slowly opened, Ryder pressed down on the accelerator and sped into our long driveway.
I slammed the car door shut once we were parked in front of the steps to my house's front door. "The deal is off," I told him, stomping up the stairs to my house's entrance,
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"Wow, took you longer than I thought," he replied, his voice icy.
I stopped dead in my tracks and slowly turned around. "What the hell is that supposed to mean?"
"You know exactly what it means," he replied as he marched up the steps to stand directly in front of me, his face an inch away from mine.
"You know what, Ryder? You know nothing about me, so fuck you," I answered with a glare.
He scoffed. "Please, sweetheart, you're so predictable it's boring."
My eyes flashed with hurt and for a minute he seemed to regret his words, but his walls came up a minute later, his eyes turning an icy blue. "What the fuck gives you the right to judge me?"
"What's that supposed to mean?" he spat.
"Oh please, you think we don't know that you hide who you really are behind those stupid dares and that stupid attitude?" I dragged the word 'stupid' out, mockingly.
The vein in his forehead jumped angrily. "Well at least I know how to have a good time. Here's a little advice, sweetheart, get fucking laid! You're become a fucking drag." He turned around and stomped down the stairs. "Where in the hell is my bike? I need to make a dramatic exit."
I rolled my eyes. "Fucking asshole."
"I heard that," he shouted over his shoulder and I gave his back the middle finger. "I also saw that."
Fernando rode his bike up to the entrance and I turned around and marched up the rest of the stairs. I walked into the house, slamming the door behind me and throwing my keys down on the small table by the door. I stomped down the hallway and into the kitchen. Walking over to the refrigerator I forcefully pulled the door open and grabbed a bottle of water. I walked over to the kitchen island and slammed the bottle down on the counter-top.
"Who the fuck does he think he is?" I muttered angrily to myself. "Self-righteous bitch? Who the hell died and made him king of judge-town?"
"I take it the outing didn't go too well?" My head snapped to Nadia in surprise. I hadn't noticed her standing by the stove.
"He's an arrogant asshole. Why the hell do people hang out with him? You know, I always knew he was an insufferable son of a bitch, but I had to give him the benefit of the doubt. Classic Casey, right? I am so sick of people telling me that I am boring," I shouted angrily and stomped out of there before she got the chance to answer. I took the elevator to my room and flopped down on my bed when I finally reached it, immediately bolting right back up when water seeped in my shirt.
"Stupid Ryder!" I growled, glaring down at the wet spot on the bed. I walked over to my lounge area and flopped down on one of my bean bags, just as Nissa's ringtone blared from my phone. A smile made it's way onto my face. She'd chosen the song 'Baby Got Back' by Sir Mixalot. Sliding my thumb across the touch screen, I brought the device up to my ear.
"Casey Stratford, you have so much to explain!" she exclaimed over the phone.
"Hey, Nissa," I greeted, my mood lightening. Nissa had that power over people; it didn't matter what kind of mood you were in, she always had a way of making you feel better.
"Don't you 'hey, Nissa,' me. When the hell were you planning on telling me?" she asked, clearly put-out.
I sighed. "I guess you heard...Listen, Niece, I wanted to tell you myself and I was going to but I got...preoccupied."
"Are you kidding me? You got so busy, that you couldn't call and let me know that you hooked up with Ryder? What kind of best—"
"What?!" I interrupted. "What are you talking about?"
"Oh for heavens sake, Casey, it's all over town," she answered and I sprang up out of my bean bag. What?
"Nissa, what exactly is all over town?" I slowly asked, praying that I'd heard her wrong.
"Um, that you hooked up with Ryder Cavanaugh out by the lake? People saw the two of you walking hand in hand into the woods," she replied and I let out a stream of expletives.
How the hell did I not see that coming? This was a small little town snuggled in the nook of Pennsylvania. The closest thing to exciting happening here was a cow mooing. Ryder was this town's resident bad-boy and I was the town's goody-two-shoes. Of course people would juice everything out of Ryder and I walking into the woods, alone, late at night. "Oh my god."
"You're on the 'Slut of the Day' webpage," Nissa continued, not realizing that I was having a full-on meltdown.
My mind registered what she said and I raced to my laptop, flipping the lid up, I typed in 'Slut of the Day.' The webpage flashed on my computer and I almost had a heart attack. Right on the first page, was a picture of me at the school's winter dance, last year. Next to it was the following paragraph:
'Being the slut of the day, is not a tough feat with Ryder Cavanaugh, I mean, the guy sleeps with anything that has a vagina and boobs. But no one, and I mean, no one, saw this coming. Casey Stratford. You've probably never heard of her, if you haven't been to church, a charity event or the library. In other words, she's a goody-two-shoes. So imagine our shock when she was led by Ryder Cavanaugh through the back-woods of his house. Tsk-tsk, Casey, shame on you. Must suck getting those grass stains of your knees and back.'
I gasped.
"Case?" I heard Nissa's voice over the phone.
"Nissa, I never hooked up with him," I told her, backing away from the computer, my eyes still fixed on the colorful page, wishing it to disappear.
"Mm, okay? Then why were you in the woods with him?" she asked, doubt in her voice.
"We were getting drunk, well, I was trying to get drunk..." I trailed off, memories of Drake breaking up with me, surfacing.
"Case, you've never had a sip of alcohol in your life," she answered, still clearly not believing me.
"Drake broke up with me at the party," I replied, knowing that she would immediately understand.
"I'll be right over," she immediately answered, cutting the call. I flopped down on my abandoned bean bag and waited for her. A few minutes later I heard her footsteps coming down the hall. I stood up and walked towards the door, smiling when I spotted her, her arms full of ice cream, movies and a tissue box.
"You okay, babe?" she asked as she placed all the stuff in her arms on the table next to my room door and wrapped me in her arms. I nodded against her shoulder. "He's an asshole, I've never liked him."
"I know," I told her with a small laugh.
"What happened?" she asked, walking into my room, she flopped down on one of the bean bags. I grabbed one of the ice cream cartons and took the bean bag across from hers.
"He said he was bored with the relationship," I mumbled, I didn't want to share that with her, since I knew it would only give her another reason to hate him, but I couldn't hide anything from Nissa.
"He said what now?" she asked, sitting up, a glare on her face.
"Apparently he thinks I'm the dullest person he's met," I confessed. I knew how much chaos those words could potentially cause, but Nissa had a way of finding out things and she got in a pissy mood when she found out that I was keeping stuff. I didn't want that to happen.
"What?! Oh, shit's about to go down," she hissed through clenched teeth, standing up.
"Nissa, he's right," I told her, avoiding her eyes.
"What did you just say, Casey? You better have not agreed with that asshole," she slowly said, her voice calm. Too calm. I knew Nissa, and that was her 'calm before the storm,' voice.
I needed to diffuse the situation immediately. "Nissa, when was the last time I did anything fun?"
She opened her mouth to reply, but no sound came out, she closed it again and looked away in thought. She opened her mouth once again, but still no words came out.
"Exactly," I spoke for her. "Nissa, as much as it hurts to say this, he has a point. I am boring, dull, even."
"You are not boring, you're just sophisticated; you don't think being crazy and dumb, is fun," she replied, sitting back down.
"Yeah, but I wanna be crazy and dumb," I answered and she gave me a bewildered look. "Ryder and I weren't just drinking," she gave me a suggestive look and I rolled my eyes, "get you're mind out of the gutter. We were talking and I kind of, let it slip that Drake broke up with me. We made a deal, which I'm pretty sure is off now...anyways...the deal was that I tutor him in Spanish, and he would teach me how to be spontaneous."
She squinted her eyes in confusion, a habit that she'd picked up at a young age. "So you and Ryder made a deal?"
I nodded.
"Why do you think it's off now?" she asked.
"He came over today, we got in a huge fight and I told him the deal was off," I told her reluctantly, shying away from her angry glare.
"What?! You had an opportunity to hang out with Ryder Cavanaugh and you blew it? You moron!" she exclaimed.
I stifled a laugh.
"Do you know how much I hate you right now?" she asked and this time I laughed. Her eyes widened and I covered my laugh with a cough. "Get up, we're going over to his house."
I threw her a look and scoffed.
"Casey Stratford, get your scrawny little ass up, now! We are gonna go over there and you are going to beg him to take you back, I don't care what we have to do, if you have to pimp me out to him, then do so," she replied and I laughed, not bothering to cover it up when she glared. "I'm serious, if I have to fuck his brains out to get you an in with him, I'll do it."
"Wow, you are such a great friend," I muttered sarcastically.
She sniffed. "I know."
"Seriously, though, I can do this without him," I told her and she gave me a look. "Okay, fine, maybe I can't, but I will not be the one to apologize."
"Whatever, tell me what he smells like," she demanded, her eyes glazing over and I laughed. Nissa could easily be distracted when it came to boys. A trait she happily accepted.
"Dude, how the hell should I know? I spoke to him, not sniffed him like a poodle." I rolled my eyes.
"Seriously? Not even a small sniff?" she asked, her eyes squinted knowingly. The girl knew me well.
"Okay, fine...keep in mind that I was drunk..." I warned her, "he smells like chocolate, aftershave and manly musk."
"Chocolate? Why the heck would he smell like chocolate, Casey?" she answered with a laugh and I shrugged.
"Beats me, he just does," I replied, pulling the cover off the ice cream carton that I'd forgotten I had on the floor, next to me.
"Well I don't care what he smells like, I'd still lick his abs and face," she mumbled, her eyes staring off into the distance, a longing look on her face.
I laughed. "You know he's a jerk, right? He called me a self-righteous bitch."
"Well you kind of are." I threw her a stunned look. "Self-righteous, not the bitch part, just the self-righteous part," she fixed.
I rolled my eyes and dug into my ice cream, stuffing a spoonful into my mouth I glared. Could he be right?
Had I blown things out of proportion?
No.
No, I hadn't. He'd been snooping around. He'd crossed a line.
"Case, why exactly did you two have a fight?" Nissa asked as she stood up to grab a soda from my mini fridge.
"He took me to the dance studio," I told her and she flipped around so quickly, I was surprised she didn't get whip-lashed.
"Your mom's old studio?" she asked to clarify and I nodded. "Case, I am so sorry. I know how hard it is going there."
I gave her a sad smile. "That was the first time I've been there since her death."
She nodded understandingly, walking back to her bean bag. "Did you...?"
"Yeah...it was weird, he knew exactly what to do. Nissa, that was one of the shortest panic attacks I've ever had," I told her. Most of my panic attacks lasted a few long minutes; people didn't really know how to handle them. It had come as a shock that Ryder had.
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