Back To You ~ (Cazzie Fanfic)

It's Been a Year

Casey towel dries her hair as she walks from her bedroom to the kitchen of her small apartment. She slings the towel around her neck and proceeds to grab the eggs, oil, juice, bread... everything she needed to make breakfast. She could do it with her eyes closed at this point. Same routine every day and everything in the same place. Truly, she hates it. Making breakfast... making a healthy breakfast. Every day. But when she realized how much time it shaved off her speed to eat a healthy diet that included protein and complex carbs she begrudgingly admitted to herself that it was time to learn to cook. At least for some meals. And she can't afford to slack, not with senior year looming and the need to attract a top-tier, independent coach who can help her go pro. Sponsorship will be key to making all this doable and based on her last conversation with her UCLA coach there is some interest in her. But she has to keep her times tight... keep her speed up. And she has to keep her scholarship, which means she has to keep her grades up. Casey has never been the best at prioritization or organization. That had been Izzie's thing. She shakes her head to clear the thought, scrambling the eggs in the pan and beginning to clean up while they cook a little more.

She'd had a good run this morning. The temperature had been cool and there was a slight mist in the air as she ran past the immaculate landscaping and spanish inspired architecture of the UCLA campus. She lays out her bread on a piece of tinfoil and tosses the egg shells into the trash. She glances at the clock to see that she is right on schedule. She's worked hard to overcome her disorganized, casual, rule breaking nature. The trade off is worth it.

Enrique's door squeaks open and she pokes her head out of the kitchen to see if he wants some eggs. But instead of E there is a handsome, disheveled man who looks to be pushing 40 standing in the hall.

"Oh... hello," Casey says with amused interest.

The man smiles tightly.

"Hey," is all he says.

He fumbles, slips on his shoes and then is out the door. Through the kitchen window Casey smirks as she watches him almost run the whole way down the stairs to his car, dumping her scrambled eggs onto her toast and wrapping it up. She'll eat it on the way to class like she always does. The door opens again.

"Wow," she says with mock judgment, turning around.

Enrique is leaning bashfully in the doorway wearing his favorite floral bathrobe, a box of cigarettes in hand. His dark hair is artfully disheveled.

"Have fun last night?" Casey asks, laughing.

She pours her juice into a travel cup and puts the pan in the sink with some water in it. She'll wash it when she gets home.

"Don't start with me B," Enrique says, yawning, a twinkle in his eye.

This had been his nickname for Casey since they'd met waiting tables the summer after Freshman year. It was Casey's first time working as a server and it had taken every ounce of concentration and effort she had to get used to memorizing orders and seats and table sections. Even entering the orders into the computer system felt like computer science at first. She'd thought it would be easy and, if she was being honest, felt like it was beneath her. It was a shock when it turned out to be one of the hardest things she'd ever done and she'd felt totally insecure and overwhelmed.

One night, as all the servers were rolling silverware together and talking about their dating lives, Gavin, a dark-skinned gay guy with a big personality and a small build, had looked her up and down and said, "Let me guess... lesbian?"

Tanya, a kind girl with a blonde ponytail, had swatted him with a napkin and said, "You don't have to answer that."

"No... it's ok," Casey had smiled good naturedly. "I'm Bi."

"Ok, so... on your way to gay?" Gavin had joked, plunking another rolled up set of silverware in the bin.

"Nope," Casey had replied, with a touch of snark. "Just Bi. It's a real thing. It's actually the "B" in the "LGBTQIA."

"Well there you have it!" Enrique had replied, delightedly. "You almost done with that silverware B?" he'd asked. And her nickname had been born.

Enrique had been waiting tables for years, before college and as he worked his way through school. He took Casey under his wing and the two had hit it off immediately, becoming close friends. Now E was taking a semester off to figure things out and save up. He had moved on to bartending, and was making the best money he ever had, but it was hard to work such intense, late nights and then get up for class in the morning.

"He's a little young." Casey says, still smiling, and carrying her things to the door. "And staying over? This is unprecedented."

She grabs her jacket and begins patting down all her pockets.

"You're hilarious. He may be old but he's great in bed and he owns his own condo."

"And a BMW," Casey nods with feigned seriousness, glancing out the window as she yanks on her shoes and begins tying them. She scans the room again, searching for something. E smiles angelically and holds out the keys she'd been looking for. She reaches out to take them just as he closes his hand.

"Well at least I'm getting some."

Casey barks a short laugh and yanks the keys out of his hand.

"I'm not doing this," she says, opening the door and closing it behind her. As she jogs down the steps she hears the screen door slam.

"It's been a year Casey," E calls, pitching his voice to be easily heard from the street.

She flips him off without turning around. At the bottom of the steps she turns back to see him, settled on the rickety porch swing, lighting a cigarette.

"Hey, have more than cigarettes for breakfast ok?" She calls.

Enrique gives her the finger. Casey chuckles and turns to walk the ten minutes to campus.