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CHAPTER SIXTY NINE family line. a series of flashbacks.
NEW YORK, AUGUST 1990
DEREK SHEPHERD WOULD LIKE TO MAKE ONE THING VERY CLEAR; HE WAS NOT, UNDER ANY CIRCUMSTANCES, A LIAR. He actually prided himself on his ability to tell the truth, even when it was hard, and especially when it made him look like a total asshole. Sure, he cheated on a few tests in undergrad, and sure, it was only yesterday that he lied to his professor about being able to list the steps to an atherectomy, but still. Derek told the truth, at least, when he thought it mattered.
Which, although an admirable trait, led him to the predicament he was currently in; sitting next to his crying eight-year-old pseudo-sister, who may or may not have been crying because of him.
(In his defense, all he did was tell the truth.)
"Cass, I didn't mean that it was ugly," Derek halfheartedly corrected himself, a hand on the young girl's weeping shoulder. "I just meant that maybe you could get it tailored, or something, just so it fits better, you know?"
Cassie sat on her bed with her legs crossed, elbows on her knees as she cried into her hands. Deep down, she knew she was being dramatic, but when you're a kid, everything seems like the end of the goddamn world.
"I-I don't have any money," she stuttered out between sobs, the crack of her voice making Derek regret saying anything at all. "I only had ten dollars! Now I-I'm gonna look fuckingstupid at Nancy's wedding."
It was the cheapest nice dress in stock at Goodwill, so despite it being about three sizes too big, it was pretty much Cassie's only option.
It was knee-length and firetruck red, puffed out in all the wrong places, and practically swallowed her whole, but still, it was nice.
Cassie didn't own very many nice things, and she was excited to show it to Derek, until he mentioned the obvious; Cass, why'd you pick that one? It doesn't fit right.
She knew he was just being honest, but she sorta wished that he wouldn't be.
"Language," Derek scolded halfheartedly, knowing that with a mother like Bonnie Harper, there was only so much he could do to steer her away from the f-bombs. "And why didn't you just say so? I would have bought you a nicer one if you'd asked me—"
Cassie shook her head, dropping her hands into her lap as she looked up at him. "I'm not allowed to ask you for stuff anymore."
