My Casey

Hating and loving were all part of the job.

“You okay?” Rusty asked, coming to the door.

Casey didn’t even realize she had tears in her eyes. “No, I’m not okay.” she sniffled. “I’m really not okay.” Putting the pen down, she noticed her hands were shaking.

In the next second, he was there. His arms wrapped around her, and she held onto him, not wanting to let him go.

“I’ve got you.”

“I don’t think I can do this,” she said.

“Do what?”

“This. What am I, crazy? There’s no way I can do this. I’m so stupid to think I can even give this a chance.” She put a hand to her chest, and she felt herself starting to panic.

“Hey, hey, it’s fine. Come on. You’re fine. There is nothing for you to worry about.” He ran his fingers down her back, tracing over her spine.

She really liked his touch.

“No, it’s not fine. There is nothing fine about this. I feel like I’m having a panic attack.”

He cupped her face and forced her to look at him. “What are you so afraid of?”

“Nothing.” The lie fell easily off her lips.

“You’re lying to me, and you don’t need to lie to me, baby. Just look at me, talk to me. Tell me what is going on.”

“I don’t know. I feel like I’m a total failure. I can’t seem to shake this feeling that I’m wasting my time.”

“Then stop trying to write to impress others. Don’t write for anyone else but yourself.”

“What?”

“Each story is different, right? Don’t try to be the next big thing. When was the last time you wrote something for you?”

“High school.”

“Then maybe what you need to do is start remembering who you are and what it is you like. Everything else will fall into place.”

****

Rusty didn’t kiss her last night.

He should have kissed her.

There was an opportunity missed, and the moment he watched her go indoors, he’d known he’d made a mistake.

Nothing he could do about it.

He’d fucked up, no one else.

Now, he was going to have to pay the price.

Glancing into his office, he saw she was still staring at the blank notebook.

“Hey, you,” Buster said, coming back into his garage.

“Hey,” he said.

“I bought you a burger.” Buster shoved a wrapped, brown package at his chest. “Is it true about her being all vegetarian?”

“Yes, and don’t say anything and don’t even go in there to distract her.”

“Why?”

“She’s writing.”

Buster glanced through the window. “Dude, she’s staring at a blank notebook. Last time I checked, that shit ain’t writing.”

“Shut up. She’s trying, okay? You try and write something.”

“Why the fuck would I want to do that? I’m awesome either way.” Buster winked. “Besides, the ladies wouldn’t be able to handle the kind of shit I’d have to say.”

“Oh, please, you think you could write romance?” Rusty asked.

“Hell, no, I’d be about the sex. You know that. Cold, hard fucking. It would turn everyone on. Believe me, there wouldn’t be much in the way of work getting done because of all the horniness.”

“Yeah, I do doubt that.”

“Doubt all you want, it’s not going to change anything,” Buster said. “How did the date go? From the lack of writing, I’d say uninspiring.”

Rusty glared at him. “You weren’t there.”

“No one said anything about a kiss.”

“You mean people are talking about us already?”

“Duh, yeah, why not? Of course people are going to talk. Get a grip, Rusty. This is Casey Jones, and for a long time, you’ve been one of the eligible bachelors.”

“I work for my dad.”

“You’re still hot stuff. You know that.”

“It scares me some of the stuff that comes out of your mouth.”

“It’s all in here. I tell you. The woman who finally lands me will be on cloud nine.”

“More like cloud hell. You’ll never settle for anyone less than yourself.”

Buster was known for being incredibly selfish person. He was always looking for a party or an excuse to party, rarely taking any responsibility himself.

His father used to get angry with him for hanging out with Buster, but he never showed any signs of his friend’s bad ways rubbing off on him. For all of his selfishness, Buster was a good friend, or at least tried to be.

Sometimes, his heart was in the right place.

Sometimes.

“Kiss her. Take her out. Show her a bit of adventure. Don’t be the good guy here, Rusty. You think she’d settle for a good guy? She’s a city girl.”

“That doesn’t mean anything.”

“I bet she has been surrounded by good guys. Suit-wearing men, and you’re not a suit guy.”

“I don’t like where this is going.”

“Look, I’m your best friend. I know you’ve had a thing for this girl for as long as I can remember, but you were too much of a pussy to do anything about it. Now you can do something about it. A lot of somethings, if you catch my drift. Inspiration comes from anywhere, and being the writer that she is—is she romance?”